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It’s been three months since Eddie and Chris returned from El Paso and settled into 4995 South Bedford St, and finally gave Buck his family back. He missed them like a missing limb each day, hindering his entire routine. He couldn’t turn around and crack a funny joke that he remembered to Chris; he couldn’t sink onto Eddie’s couch and share a beer with the man after a long shift; he couldn’t have impromptu days at the zoo that Chris still loved going to.
He couldn’t do any of those things with his family—the one that folded him into their lives without blinking, just looked at Buck and said yeah, you’re our family now—and Buck felt the loss immensely. Still, he gritted his teeth and carried on. It wasn’t the first time he lost a family—was born into one that he lost before he could even have them—and it wouldn’t be the last.
But they came back.
Chris is taller, with curls looking just like Buck’s, and a smile that is a mesh of Eddie’s and Shannon’s. Eddie seemed more settled, all that lingering tension left back in Texas as he ambles around their house—their house, because it is; it’s not Eddie’s house, or Buck’s house anymore, it’s theirs. There’s no adjustment period, just a puzzle piece flipped over and slipped back into its rightful spot, having been torn up and moved elsewhere before.
Of course, nothing is quite the same as before; not that it’s a bad thing. Instead of the we’re totally platonic best friends, nothing more schtick they had adopted for the past seven years, they’re together. Eddie made a promise that night, under the dim lightbulb of their bathroom, cradling Buck and his baby bump close to him like they’d disappear if he didn’t.
“I'm choosing you—right now, right here… I'm choosing you, us.”
The words still bring him comfort, draping over his shoulders like a warm blanket that Buck never wants to shrug off. Eddie chose them, him—nobody really does that, but Eddie did. He shouldn’t be surprised that Eddie chose Buck, because Eddie has been choosing Buck for years; it’s what made him love the man in the beginning, although he hadn’t realized it was love in the beginning. The pure, steady love between him and Eddie was still a foreign concept to him, something he’d only ever see in movies, exaggerated for the big screen. He’d chase it in people who he thought could love him—Abby, Ali, Taylor Kelly, Natalia, and Tommy—but didn’t realize he had it in his favorite person all along: Eddie.
Loving Eddie is like breathing, taking in crisp, cool air, and letting it fill his lungs.
Loving Eddie and getting to show that love—and be shown it in return—for these past three months has been better than ever. He’s satisfied, his heart never aching for more, and a happiness Buck cannot honestly describe settling into his bones. Thinking and talking about the future with Eddie is easier than he’s realized—the excitement for it always rushes through Buck, making him feel light. He’s carrying the future addition to their little family, a very anticipated addition that every member of the house is excited to meet. Chris has been gushing about being a big brother, and Eddie cried when he showed him the sonogram photos from a more recent appointment. Watching Eddie glow with happiness, cradling Buck’s baby bump, and whispering to their baby satisfied and settled Buck more than he has ever felt in his entire life.
He’s satisfied, yes, so much so, except for one aspect: sexually.
They’ve been together three months, and they’ve only fucked once, which was during the creating of baby Diaz. Pregnancy hormones feel worse than puberty, or Buck’s slut phase in college and around the country. The low simmering arousal in his gut makes Buck feel insatiable all day, every day. He’d rather have overwhelming bouts of arousal where he could fingerfuck himself to completion and go on with his day, but this simmering around does not want to quit. He’s so fucking horny he has to finger himself twice in the shower before he feels like he can function through the haze of low-simmering arousal churning in his gut.
It also doesn’t help that he’s nine months pregnant—just a handful of weeks from his due date—and it’s getting harder to finger himself when he can’t actually see anything past his bump. Of course, Buck knows his body in and out, so that’s not the hard part, but the angle? How often his wrist cramps before he can cum because he has to compensate because he currently looks like a damn whale?
Yeah, Buck is frustrated, very frustrated.
What’s worse is Eddie doesn’t seem at all affected by the lack of sex. Sure, they’ve frotted against each other, and had makeouts that’d make Buck 1.0 blush, but there’s nothing that screams I need to fuck you, or I won’t be able to fuction about Eddie. It’s even more frustrating than his lack of orgasms that Eddie is calm, collected, and not so horny he cannot fuction.
It pisses Buck off to no end, but he can’t really be angry with Eddie, especially when Eddie runs to the store whenever he has a craving—and always brings them back with him if he’s at work—or dotes on him hand and foot, even if he’s exhausted after a shift, he’ll still take time to massage Buck’s aching hips, or help him into a bath after drawing one for him.
He loves Eddie, and if he could hold out a little more till this damn baby is out to have this annoying arousal fade into the background, he would; however, Buck cannot.
So, he does something about it.
He pushes Eddie’s hand.
-
Eddie’s forty-eight off starting the next day works perfectly in Buck’s favor. They’re both working as much as they can to stockpile their money for when they both take leave for a couple of months. Buck works from home for the fire marshal's office; his day primarily consists of reviewing and editing reports, then sending them on their way. It’s tedious work, but it pays well enough, considering Buck is currently off-duty with the 118 because he can’t work as a firefighter nine months pregnant. That’d be on hell of an OSHA violation waiting to happen.
Buck waddles into their bedroom, the house quiet past the shuffling of his feet. Chris is at school for another four hours or so, it only being thirty minutes past noon, so they have the house to themselves. Eddie is using it to do a bit of reading, sprawled out in the middle of their bed, and hogging one of Buck’s pregnancy pillow. He swears Eddie uses the damn thing more than him.
Said man is currently peering at him over the top of his book, a curious eyebrow raised as chocolate brown eyes track every movement Buck makes. He can see Eddie’s eyes sweeping up and down his body where he’s clad in an oversized shirt and boxers—it’s what he wears when Chris is at school, and dressing takes more energy than he currently has.
The brunet is watching him quietly, face half-hidden by his book, as Buck heaves a knee up and plants it on the bed, placing both hands on the mattress as he crawls his way toward Eddie. It takes a bit more energy and finesse, but he manages, watching as Eddie smiles softly, crinkles forming around his eyes.
Finally, after a bit more shifting, he makes it to where he’s crouched right next to Eddie, placing a hand on his clothed abdomen—Eddie’s wearing a loose tank and basketball shorts—before heaving himself up, swinging a knee to the right, and straddling Eddie. The action is smoother than he gives himself credit for, drawing a soft huff from his boyfriend as Eddie dog-ears his place in the book and tosses it to the side. “Well, hi,” he says, a bit mirthful and cheeky as big, warm hands grab his hips, steadying Buck.
The warmth Eddie is staring at him with makes him feel gooey inside, cunt already leaking in his boxers. His failed attempts at finger-fucking himself in the shower this morning left him high-strung and dripping, a wiggling mess lacking concentration and barely managing to speed through all the reports due today so he could have some downtime. His boss doesn’t care when he finishes the reports, as long as they’re done by end-of-day, which is a score for whenever insomnia hits and Buck is up reading reports at three AM till Eddie drags him back to bed and snuggles him to sleep.
“Hi,” Buck says, a bit breathless. Eddie’s thumbs are drawing smooth shapes in his skin, having slipped under his oversized shirt to plant warm hands against his skin. “Eddie,” Buck whines, planting his hands on Eddie’s abdomen to start rolling his hips down against Eddie’s soft cock. The roll of his hips as the fabric of his boxers pressing into his cunt, the soft, soaked fabric rubbing against his clit—the sensations alone around almost enough to make him cum right there. His desperation gets the reaction he wants out of Eddie: those chocolate brown eyes widen before darkening with hunger, and he can feel Eddie’s cock coming to life against his cunt, twitching and hardening.
“Please,” he practically cries, tears filling his eyes, overwraught and horny—a terrible combination in Buck’s opinion. “Please, pl-please, Eddie. ‘M so horny, please just fuck me already.”
Eddie’s hands grip his hips harshly, a rough groan leaving his lips as he begins to rut against Buck’s cunt, aborted motions following Buck’s desperate ones. Eddie’s hard and warm against his cunt, pressing into his sopping folds through his shorts and Buck’s ruined boxers. “Dios,” Eddie rasps, a hand leaving Buck’s hip to grab the back of his neck and drag him down as best he can with Buck’s belly in the way, capturing his lips in a bruising kiss. Buck mewls into it, the press and slip of their lips lighting him ablaze. It makes the arousal simmering in his blood boil over, a rough, weak sound spilling against Eddie’s lips as he cums just from a bit of rutting and a kiss.
He’s not surprised, he’s been pent up for weeks, and hasn’t had an orgasm in nearly the same time, so it’s not a shock to him that he soaks his boxers with cum within minutes of rutting frantically in Eddie’s lap. It does have Eddie pulling away, eyes wide with shock as Buck sobs and gasps, clenching his fingers in Eddie’s tank top as his orgasm consumes him. “Holy shit,” he hears Eddie murmur through the cotton growing in his ears, all sounds muffled and far-away as he rides through his orgasm shakily, hips moving in choppy motions.
Even though the orgasm quells the flames in him slightly, it fades within seconds of crashing into Buck, and he’s left feeling shaky and still so high-strung; it’s as if he’s an over-tightened guitar string. It draws a rough, truly pathetic sound from him as he tilts forward, stopped from resting his head on Eddie’s shoulder by his gigantic baby bump. “That bad, huh?” Eddie coos, running a hand through his hair. “So pent up, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Buck cracks out, voice wobbling in his throat. “Gnnh, please, E-Eddie, please,” He knows Eddie knows what he’s begging for, and he needs it like he needs air at this point, or like a plant needs water desperately. If he doesn’t get Eddie’s cock inside of him, he’ll shrivel up and die a terrible, unsatisfied death that will be all Eddie’s fault. “Just fuck me already.” There’s undeniable frustration in his voice, snappish and slurred from the remnants of his orgasm, making him feel droopy. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind or care about the tone of his voice, eyes crinkling with a slow-growing smile on his face.
“Okay,” he says, hard and throbbing against his sopping cunt. If he couldn’t feel how hard Eddie is, he’d think the guy is completely unaffected. “Hips up, cariño.” The pet name makes him hot all over, shakily pushing himself to his knees like Eddie asked him to. The motion has Eddie humming softly, hands crawling around his back to grab at his ass, patting the jiggly flesh for a minute and groping it. Buck moans softly, clenching around nothing as Eddie’s fingers sink into his asscheeks before snagging the fabric of his boxers and tearing them open. The loud RRIIPP of his boxers becoming open-assed boxers has him going fuzzy all over.
A whimpered o-oh, my god leaves his throat, but Eddie isn’t done. He takes hold of the waistband and, with a little more finagling and a very arousing flex of his biceps, it’s torn in two. By now, his boxers are limp, assless shreds, still attached around his thighs, but not for long.
It takes two practiced tears for Eddie to get his thighs free from the fabric, with it only remaining on his body from how fucking wet he is; the fabric clings to him, peeled off slowly and dragged into the air by Eddie. The brunet has a cheeky smile on his lips, bordering on shark-toothed grin as he tosses his thoroughly ripped boxers elsewhere, leaving Buck only in his oversized t-shirt riding up around his baby bump.
Buck hiccups a sound that has Eddie full-blown grinning, staring at his exposed lower half with greed in his chocolate eyes. He tries to sit down, thighs shaking from exertion, but Eddie catches him by the waist and keeps him there. “Ath, not yet, mi amor—just one more second,” Eddie coos, soothing his stifled whimper. Eddie shimmies his basketball shorts down just enough till his half-hard cock springs free, nestled against his inner thigh, thick and throbbing.
The sight of it almost has Buck crying in relief, a tear slipping down his cheek as he moans. Eddie gives himself a few scarce jerks, wrist working in slow, relaxed motions. The sight is hot; watching Eddie slowly jerk himself up while gazing at him with half-lidded, lustful eyes makes him quiver.
“C’mon then, cowboy, have at it,” Eddie says, guiding him closer so he can nudge his cockhead against Buck’s cunt. He doesn’t even think he’ll need prep from how wet and loose he feels, a rough sound slipping from his mouth as he shimmies a bit and sits down. Eddie’s cock breaching his hole has him shuddering, the vivid memories of their heated night together nine months ago flooding his brain. It’s been the thing he’s gotten off to the most, even though the memories used to make him panic and feel guilty in the beginning. However, even the shameful orgasms he got from remembering how Eddie fucked him so hard he saw stars can’t compare to this.
Eddie’s thicker than he remembered, a wrecked moan slipping from his mouth as he works his way down, hilting Eddie deeper inside of him with each roll and grind of his hips. Eddie groans softly, gripping his hips and licking over his sharp canines. “So fucking beautiful,” Eddie whispers, making Buck whimper as he slides down the last few inches, seated in Eddie’s lap, cunt stretched around his cock. “Needed this, didn’t you?”
Buck nods empathically, a wrecked uh huh falling from his mouth. He’s needed this for longer than he’ll admit, but he’s needed Eddie longer. “A-An’ you didn’t?” He can’t help but ask, with a hand remaining scrunched up in Eddie’s tank top while the other comes to rest behind him, planted on Eddie’s thigh as he pulls himself up, and falls back down. “Didn’ wanna fuck me? Put another baby in me?” It’s a bit mean—a bit dirty—but his brain is mush, and he’s barely conscious about the words falling from his lips.
“Mierda,” Eddie groans, hips rocking up to meet Buck on a down-thrust, guiding Buck through his slow riding motions. “Fucken’... course I did. Wanted to fuck you the second I realized I put a baby in you, cariño,” the man hisses out, making Buck huff out a soft moan, rising and falling in a steady, jarring rhythm. It shakes the bed a bit, and has Eddie’s abandoned book shifting closer to the edge with each rock and ride. “I didn’t wanna—fuuuck—pressure you, though.”
It’s so sweet that it has Buck hiccuping a whimpering sob, suddenly feeling very selfish and bad for being upset at Eddie looking as if the lack of sex didn’t phase him. He should have realized that Eddie didn’t want to pressure him. How stupid could he be and not look past his own selfishness?
“Woah!” Eddie yelps as Buck belts out another sob, seated on Eddie’s lap fully. His hands come up to press into his cheeks, the jarring shift of emotions leaving even him reeling. “What’s wrong, mi amor? Did I say something wrong?” God, how did he land this man?
“N-No!” Buck sobs out, shaking his head vigorously behind his hands. “I-, Eddie, I was so selfish, thinking a-about myself! I’m sorry!” Eddie’s done so much for him; he’s tied his shoes; he’s given Buck massages; he’s held Buck as he cried over kitten videos and his aching hips; he’s even spoonfed Buck when he got a cold that knocked him flat on his ass for a week. He’s done everything for Buck, and Buck hasn’t even been looking for what Eddie needs, too.
God. He’s terrible. He’s selfish.
“Aye, mi amor,” Eddie sighs softly, prying Buck’s hands away from his face, showing his blotchy face to the man, who gazes at him with such love and concern it almost makes Buck sick with love. “You aren’t selfish, not even close. Don’t even say that about yourself, okay? Who cooks the food for us when I get home late? You. Who brings me snacks and cheers me up after a bad shift? You. Who makes me happy every day? You. There are so many other things I could list to show you that you are not selfish, and even if you were, I don’t mind. You deserve to be a little selfish for once in your life, my love; you’ve been so selfless for years, it makes me happy that you finally prioritize yourself.” Eddie tangles their hands together, drawing Buck close so he can stare into his eyes. “You deserve to be a bit selfish; plus, I don’t mind waiting on you, hand and foot, mi amor—it makes me feel good that I can do that for you.”
The words Eddie says to him draw a raw, rough sound from him, sniffling and nodding softly at the man. “O-Okay, m’still s-sorry, though,” Buck murmurs, unable to get over the gripping urge to apologize; to roll over onto his belly and show it to Eddie and hope the man doesn’t get mad at him, even though Eddie just said he doesn’t mind Buck being selfish. Selfish isn’t in his nature, it’s not something coded into his genetically modified DNA—it’s a trait he never got to learn; instead, he knew how to offer up every part of himself, whether it be a limb, blood, parts of his heart and soul, or parts of himself.
“Don’t gotta be,” Eddie soothes, pressing kisses into his knuckles. “We don’t have to continue either, you know; whatever you want, my love.” It throws Buck for a loop for a second before remembering that oh, yeah, I’m essentially cockwarming Eddie right now.
Buck swallows slowly, the momentarily surging wave of sadness fading, replaced with the arousal sitting at the base of his spine. Instead of answering, he slowly swivels his hips, gazing down at Eddie through his tear-clumped lashes, a whimper on the tip of his tongue when Eddie’s shaft—so big that he doesn’t need angles—presses against his g-spot, a constant, dizzying pressure. “Dun’ wanna stop,” Buck whines, a pout on his lips, “denined me so long, don’t make me stop.”
“Then I won’t,” Eddie soothes, letting go of his hands so he can return them to their previous position: one behind him on Eddie’s thigh as an anchor, and the other on Eddie’s abdomen. “Go on, cowboy, take what you need.” The smirk playing on Eddie’s lips makes him feel hot all over, giving him the fuel he needs to rise slowly, the added weight of his baby bump making it slightly different than he remembers—he used to ride his small collection of dildos till he came so hard he saw stars, but he’s getting the hang of it.
Soft moans crawl up his throat, head resting against his shoulder as he works up and down. “Dios, baby, you have no idea how fucking hot you are. Look so fucking beautiful on my lap, taking what you want.”
“E-Eddie,” Buck keens, feeling like a broken record. He can’t stop saying Eddie’s name, creating the sounds in his mouth between hitched moans and soft mewls as he rides the man slowly. Even with the added weight to his midsection, his thighs power through—just because he’s pregnant, doesn’t mean he still hasn’t been working out. Sure, it’s driven Eddie up the wall with stress, but Buck has researched extensively about this whole thing—he even created a presentation for Eddie to show that working out while pregnant isn’t bad; it’s actually recommended—and he’d be driven up the walls with nothing to fulfill his exercise needs.
“Fuck, s-so deep,” he moans, a wanton sound breaking halfway through as he swivels his hips. His thighs are burning, only adding to the mounting pleasure. It tingles through every nerve in his body, making him one big ball of pleasure ready to release. Since getting pregnant, he’s been even more sensitive, and pair that with the low-simmering arousal that he’s been unable to shake for weeks?
It’s a beautiful cocktail of messy, insatiable pleasure that Buck drowns in.
A wrecked, ruined sound drips from his mouth as his rise and falls get choppier, twisting and shoving himself down in a hurried race to finish. Eddie groans and helps him along, rolling his hips with his big hands, controlling each swivel of his hips, and helping him through the rise and falls. His eyes have drifted to look at Eddie’s heaving chest, but he slowly drags them up, reaching Eddie’s lust-filled eyes. The man has a sharp grin on his face that wobbles with each fall, a furrow between his brows, and lust swirling in his chocolate-brown eyes. His hair is tousled, with a few strands falling onto his forehead, making him even more attractive. He’s still not sure how he managed to have Eddie Diaz as his life partner, but he’s learning not to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Perfecto, mi amor—just… beautiful,” Eddie murmurs, a rough groan leaving his mouth as Buck bounces on his lap with fervor, chasing his pleasure like a hungry dog chasing a steak on a stick. “Y’gonna cum, mi sol, hm?”
Buck nods bashfully, whimpering as he rides Eddie in quick, desperate motions. He’s so close, but his orgasm isn’t hitting; there’s something—an angle, a swivel of his hips, something—not working right. It almost makes him cry—again—as a whimper slips from his mouth again, desperate and begging Eddie wordlessly for something he cannot put into words; not that he thinks he can even speak right now. Eddie hums, thumbs rubbing gently against his waist.
“Oh, I know what you need. I always do,” Eddie coos, all false—and true—softness in his voice as one hand leaves his waist before the other follows. They slip a long, heated line down Buck’s waist and down between his legs, one hand attacking his clit. Eddie’s warm, war-worn fingers slip around the engorged gland, grasping it and rolling it between two fingers.
His clit is big enough to grasp, to roll between Eddie’s fingers and make him see stars—however, it’s still not enough. It pulls a raw sound from his mouth, a heated groan slipping through his parted lips. However, it seems that Eddie isn’t done yet.
With easy, drool-wroth confidence, Eddie slips two fingers into Buck’s cunt on a down-stroke, making him fuller than before. Eddie’s fingers crook, pressed against his cock, and presses right into his g-spot. The confidence Eddie exudes as he navigates Buck’s body will never not make him drool. Even though they’ve only had sex once before this, and did nothing more than make out and a couple bouts of heated, lust-driven frottage, Eddie seems to know his body like the back of his hand.
Maybe he does remember their drunken night after Buck told him about the night; perhaps it jogged his memory and reminded Eddie of the hours he spent taking Buck apart, exploring what made him tick, and cum.
The orgasm washes over him, eyes rolling up and movements grinding to a startling halt. His fingers sink into Eddie’s thigh, no doubt leaving little half-moon shapes where his nails dig in as his orgasm envelops him. The rush of pleasure almost knocks Buck off-kilter, squeezing around Eddie in a harsh, unforgiving vice that has the man bucking up into his pussy, aborted motions spinning Buck around, disorienting him through the waves of pleasure.
Eddie’s fingers never stop moving and working his clit as Buck sobs, squirting around Eddie’s cock. He soaks the brunet’s lap in his arousal, shaking and mewling into the humid, sex-scented air, weak gurgles of pure, unadulterated pleasure slipping from his mouth.
He can’t move, can only hang on for dear life as Eddie ruts into his pussy, withdrawing his fingers from his cunt to grip Buck’s hip with one hand while the other continue to work his clit, restless and efficent. He’s jostled around on Eddie’s lap, rutting down against Eddie’s choppy thrusts without conscious effort. All he knows, and all he wants is Eddie filling him up with cum, plugging him full of it with his cock, and leaving him dripping with it.
As if reading his mind, Eddie tosses his head back, a throaty fuck barked out as the man molds Buck to his lap, abdomen pressed into Buck’s body, clinging to Buck as the force of his orgasm knocks the breath out of the both of them. The rush of heat nearly has Buck cumming again, oozing slick and squirt like a leaky pipe system, moans soft and stifled in his throat. “T-That’s it,” Eddie rasps, throat clicking with the force of his swallow. “You just want to be stuffed and fucked full, huh, mi amor?”
It’s shameful of Buck to want it, but yes. Yes, he does; he wants it so badly sometimes he can barely breathe through the constricting arousal. Eddie grins at him, staring at him from where his head is still tossed back. “You’re perfect for it, too: just a warm, tight hole for me to fuck and fill. You’d get off to it—you are right now.” Buck flushes with shame, hands quivering where they hold purchase in Eddie’s shirt and on his thigh because, yeah, he is. He’s rolling his hips down into Eddie’s lap, insatiable and greedy.
Sue him, it’s been weeks without a proper orgasm, and Eddie Diaz spewing delicious filth? Buck is living it large, or something.
Carefully, Eddie grabs the front of his shirt, tugging him down, and you bet your ass Buck goes. It draws a soft moan out of him when the angle changes slightly, groaning into Eddie’s lips when the man captures his. Eddie is still pumping him full of cum, small, jerky motions with his hips ensuring it gets as deep as possible. Although it’s not needed, seeing as Buck is nine months pregnant with their baby at this very moment. Eddie hums against his lips, licking at the seam of his mouth, and Buck lets him in with a raw, cracked sound. Eddie huffs into the kiss, kissing Buck with sound, sure motions that make Buck goop in his lap.
Pulling away from the kiss for air, Buck lets out a soft, breath nnh that has Eddie smiling. It’s his favorite look on Eddie—bunched cheeks, crinkled eyes, and that soft gaze directed at him. There’s a soft, rosy flush to the highs of his cheeks that Buck wants to kiss, so he does. He sinks into Eddie’s awaiting arms, feeling them wrap around him gently, and peppers little kisses on Eddie’s cheeks. It draws soft, amused huffs and soft hums from Eddie, and it makes Buck grin. No matter how loopy he feels, he can’t resist kissing Eddie.
“Love you,” Buck murmurs, nuzzling into Eddie’s cheek, peppering kisses there. “So much.” It’s true—Buck loves Eddie with his whole heart and soul; he truly couldn’t have asked for a better life partner. He should send Bobby an army of fruit and cheese baskets as a thank you for poaching Eddie from station six. They’re almost eight years overdue.
“Mm, I love you too, sweetheart,” Eddie hums, rubbing up and down his flank, hand finally slipping out from between his legs. He rubs up and down his flank soothingly, massaging deft fingers into his sore lower back. He’ll definitely be feeling this romp later, but it’ll be a price he’s happy to pay. The scoring zaps of overstimulation leave his body shaky and sated, and his thighs don’t feel ready to move.
“So fucking much. Don’t hide your wants from me, okay? I’ll do whatever I can to give you what you want, but you gotta tell me instead of suffering in silence,” Eddie kisses him again, stealing his huffed, weak protest from his lips. “And you won’t be using me, Buck, so toss that thought out before it even forms; I’ve got your back, and if that means fucking you to tears, or rubbing your feet and massaging your ankles when they get sore, I’m happy to do either, okay? Without question.”
Buck sighs out a weak, wobbly sound that has his chest tight, nodding slowly. “Okay,” Buck whispers, promising to himself and to Eddie that he’ll be better at asking for what he wants—it’s something he’s always struggled with, but Eddie has never shot down anything he’s asked for in the past. He’s always indulged Buck in everything, no matter how big or small it is, so Buck doesn’t doubt he’ll do the same now. “Okay,” he says again, a hammer to the nail, just to drive it home and sink it deep into his skin so he doesn’t back out. “So… can…uhm,” Buck worries his bottom lip between his teeth before blowing a breath and meeting Eddie’s patient eyes.
“Can I stay here, just for a while?” Buck whispers, clenching his fists into the back of Eddie’s tank top. He wants to stay here, perched on Eddie’s lap, sated and full. He feels dizzy and floaty, half-detached from his body, and he doesn’t want it to end. Plus, he doesn’t feel up to moving.
“‘Course,” Eddie says without stuttering. His smile is soft and kind, and his fingers never stop drawing small lines and languid shapes on his side. “You can stay there as long as you want, my love.” Buck smiles, wiggling a bit in Eddie’s lap before settling down, happy to rest there, squishing his pregnant belly between them a bit so he can rest his head on Eddie’s shoulder and doze in the fuzzy headspace he’s found himself in. He’s sated, he’s warm, he’s surrounded by Eddie.
What’s there more to ask for?
-
Buck isn’t sure what time it is when he wakes up, but he’s tucked into bed, wearing a new shirt and boxers, carefully placed in the middle of his favorite pregnancy, and Eddie is beside him, near the end of his book. He whines softly, stretching till all the tension leaks out of him, a soft puff of air leaving his mouth. “Afternoon, sleepyhead,” Eddie says, putting his bookmark in between the pages, closing the book with a muted snap. “Sleep well?” Buck turns his head into the hand carding through his curls, humming softly.
“‘eah,” he mumbles, blowing out soft breaths through his nose as he yawns. “How long’d I sleep?” His speech is a bit slurred, words meshing together, which makes Eddie smile down at him. “About five hours, give or take a little bit. Chris is home, and dinner will be in about an hour.”
Buck whines softly, hugging his pregnancy pillow a little closer. “Tha’s so long,” he huffs, not realizing he took a five-hour nap after sleeping for twelve hours from eight pm to eight am. Thank god he got all his work done for the day, at least.
Eddie huffs, rustling his curls. “Buck, you are literally growing a human inside of you. I think you deserve a five-hour nap. Plus, I didn’t want to wake you unless I needed to, and you looked comfortable,” Eddie soothes, hand trailing down the back of his throat, cupping the soft skin there, thumb brushing over his pulse point, fingers sneakily notching themselves under the bolt of his jaw to check his pulse.
Buck grumbles a bit but doesn’t move, letting Eddie do as he pleases. He’s not immune to checking Eddie’s pulse either; they’ve had too many near-deaths, so this soft, comforting motion means more to them than most people would think. “Pretty sure baby is done cooking,” he huffs, getting a wry snort from Eddie. “But thank you for letting me sleep, I think I needed it.” Scrubbing a hand over his face and wiping the remnants of sleep away—even though he really wants to lay his head back down and fall asleep again—to slowly sit up when Eddie has had his fill of feeling out his pulse.
“Did Chris get any homework? And how was his robotics club?” he asks, wiggling his way to the edge of the bed and standing slowly. Eddie smiles at him and follows him by hauling himself off the bed. It makes him feel good that Eddie doesn’t hover too much with all the little things—it makes Buck feel more capable, and less of a beached whale unable to stand on his own.
“His robot is coming along nicely, I think a few more meets and he’ll be done with the draft robot. Cody still needs to finish the last bits of programming, but they should be done for the show-and-tell. And he finished all his homework in Robotics during break periods, although I think he is waiting for you to proofread his essay so he can turn it in next week.” Eddie says, filling him in as Buck waddles—yes, he waddles, he’s carrying a fat as hell baby and his hips have shifted to prepare for the birth, so he’s waddling—toward the door, meeting Eddie with a soft bump of their shoulders.
It’s comforting; it’s them.
Eddie hums and stops Buck at the doorway, spinning him slowly—so he doesn’t lose his balance—so he faces Eddie. The brunet grins at him, soft and gentle. “Hi,” he murmurs, hands loose on Buck’s waist.
“Hi,” Buck says back, a foolish and loving grin on his face. “Kiss?” he asks, and he knows Eddie will give him one, even if he doesn’t ask for it. With their relationship status being confirmed during that late night with too many emotions, Eddie’s loving ways came out, especially the fact that he loves kissing.
Buck isn’t complaining.
“Always,” Eddie grins, leaning in to press a sound, gentle kiss to Buck’s lips that has his body vibrating slightly under how much love is pushed into it. They pull away after a few seconds, twin smiles on their faces. “I love you, Buck, and,” Eddie says, dropping to a crouch to frame Buck’s baby bump with his hands, gazing at the half-hidden bump. “I love you, too.” Leaning forward, Eddie presses a gentle kiss above his naval, making him shudder. Their baby responds with a very enthusiastic kick to Buck’s bladder. Or maybe it’s a fist.
All he knows is that suddenly, he needs to pee.
“Baby loves you, too, and using my bladder as a punching bag,” Buck grunts as Eddie stands, a wry snort coming from the man. “Clearly, baby takes after you, Mr. illegal street fighter.”
Buck walks the three strides to the bathroom with Eddie calling out a hey! after him, which has him laughing, before stifling it when laughing is suddenly not a good idea.
Baby decides to suckerpunch him in the bladder again, just for fun, apparently.
God, these last few weeks cannot go by quicker.