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Waking from being struck by lightning and then having to fight against the version of his dead older brother that tried to keep him trapped in a world without Chris or Eddie should’ve been the worst thing to happen to him. He’d died and according to Eddie he’d died for 3 minutes and 17 seconds, he’d required a ventilator and ECMO just to keep him alive long enough for him to come back, and even after that he’d still spent weeks that turned into months in hospital before he was discharged, however he feels like he’s still in a coma, just a different one from the version where his older brother was alive. He went up the ladder a Beta and woke up an Omega, apparently he had some implant near the site of the bone marrow donation that suppressed his actual presentation. According to Maddie their father never knew about it but their mother did and is the one who signed off on it because the doctor they used claimed that he needed to remain hormonally neutral in case Daniel needed further donations, that if Buck presented as an alpha or omega and Daniel didn’t match that designation it could increase the risk of rejection, so they suppressed everything before it could even start and then when Daniel died it slipped her mind or she didn’t care enough to correct it. He’s spent the past 29 years without his body doing what it should be. He’s believed that he needed to date a woman to have a child and yet all along he could’ve been falling in love with a man and carrying a child himself, and the thought hits harder the longer he sits with it, because if he knew he was an omega he wouldn’t have ever agreed to donate for Connor. He isn’t sad that his friends are able to have a child for themselves but if he knew he was an omega he wouldn’t have agreed because even now when he’s just got out of hospital all he can think is that it’s not right that someone else is carrying his biological child. “That should’ve been me,” he mutters under his breath at one point, not even sure who he’s saying it to, just knowing it feels wrong in a way he can’t fix now.
He feels like he hasn’t had time to wrap his head around the fact that the very core of him has changed in what feels like overnight because his damn sister has a rota of people visiting him, he can’t even bloody nap because every time he settles down someone else is walking through his door. “I’m fine, I just need sleep,” he says more than once, but it doesn’t matter because the door keeps opening anyway. Well, all except one family he should say, Eddie, Chris, Pepa and Isabel have messaged him or FaceTimed him but they haven’t put themselves down on his sister’s list. The more the door opens the more something under his skin tightens instead of easing, something restless that doesn’t settle no matter how still he tries to be, like his body is waiting for something it hasn’t found yet and won’t let him rest until it does, and he doesn’t understand it, doesn’t recognise it for what it is, just knows that the quiet he needs isn’t here and the rest he’s trying to force won’t come in this space. “I just need somewhere quiet,” he exhales to himself, rubbing a hand over his face, and that’s when the thought settles in properly. So, between his babysitters he decides that he’ll grab an uber and make his way to the place that has always felt like home.
He does however decide that he wants to take some of his comfy clothes with him because whilst he does have clothes there they’re either clothes for a day out with Chris that aren’t the comfort he wants, “Yeah, no, not wearing jeans if I’m trying to sleep,” he mutters as he pulls them out, he also grabs his quilt because even though Eddie does give him a blanket he’s been running a bit colder than normal since he woke up in the hospital and nothing in his loft seems to hold his warmth properly anymore. Then he sees that he has some of Eddie’s and Chris’ clothes that he needs to return so he bags them up too, his hands lingering slightly on the fabric longer than they should like something in him is reluctant to let them go even though he’s taking them with him anyway, like the familiarity settles something low in his chest even if he doesn’t question why. He notices that it’s almost time for his next minder to arrive so he hides the bags under his bed and makes his way back downstairs and tries to pay attention to the Planet Earth episode that’s on even though he couldn’t tell you what it’s about even seconds after watching it.
After hearing his mother complain for what feels like the hundredth time that his apartment is a typical bachelor pad and that he’ll never get a woman to settle down with him they finally leave his loft and he grabs his bags from upstairs, some additional personal care items not remembering what he has at Eddie’s, grabs his electronics and chargers and his meds before requesting an uber. As he gets to the security office he lets them know he’ll be out for a couple of days and if they need him to either ring him or Eddie who he’ll be with, Mr Terrance tells him to check in daily just so he knows he’s okay after what he just lived through which makes him text Eddie in the back of the uber, remind me to get the security team a fruit basket, they’ve been checking in on me again, because through everything he’s lived through in the years since he moved in they’ve always checked in with him. Eddie replies almost immediately, already made a note, you’re not going out to get it yourself, and Buck lets out a quiet breath at that. “Yeah, figured you’d say that,” he murmurs, something in him settling just slightly without him really understanding why.
In the uber he can hear the radio announcing the new track at the top of the Billboard Top 100 is Last Night by Morgan Wallen and he finds he really likes the song and will be asking Eddie if he’s heard it. He’s found since he became friends with Eddie he has a wider range of music that he listens to and then since getting TikTok he gets introduced to all the music that Chris likes, and it’s strange when he actually thinks about it because he couldn’t even tell you who his favourite artist is anymore, not really, not the way he used to be able to, just that it isn’t Fall Out Boy anymore and hasn’t been for a while. “When did that even change?” he mutters to himself, staring out of the window, like that part of him shifted quietly without him noticing and now he’s not even sure when it happened. Without him even realising how long he’s been in the car he pulls up to Eddie’s and he debates just walking in but with all the changes he isn’t sure if Eddie will want him just walking in anymore, so he knocks.
Of course Eddie is close to the door around this time of the day ensuring that all shoes are present and accounted for after years of missing shoes right before having to leave for a school run or a shift, he doesn’t know why the pair don’t just take their shoes off at the door so they couldn’t go missing under a bed. “Did you lose your key? I’m fairly sure that when I gave it to you all those years ago it was so I didn’t have to open the door for you,” Eddie snarks at him like he doesn’t realise that Buck’s designation change could make him feel uncomfortable having an unmated omega just walking into his house. “No, I just wasn’t sure if I was still allowed it after the suppressant was found and removed,” he replies, not wanting to delay the inevitable of him asking for his key back. To his shock Eddie doesn’t reply, he just laughs, giving him a look like Buck is ridiculous for even thinking that. “Buck, you’re not losing your key, get inside,” he says like it’s not even a question, like nothing about this has changed, like Buck is still Buck and that’s all that matters.
Once Eddie finally stops laughing he actually looks at Buck, noticing he has some bags with him. “What have you got there Buck, you should be resting not carrying stuff halfway around LA, wait you better not have driven you haven’t been cleared yet,” suddenly very worried about Buck’s health, obviously not realising that Buck got an uber and wouldn’t dream of driving without being cleared knowing the kind of calls they’ve answered where people have gone against doctors’ orders. “No Eds I haven’t driven,” Buck replies quickly, “I got some comfy clothes because I only have jeans here and I was trying to rest but my sister decided that I wasn’t allowed that by having someone come to check on me every hour so I decided that because you and the rest of the Diaz’s haven’t done more than text and call I am making this place my rest camp. I got some of yours and Chris’s clothes that I thought you’d want back before you both start complaining that you can’t find them and I brought my quilt because since waking up I am running colder than before so your blanket for me isn’t going to cut it until my temperature regulates itself again and I am here to hopefully get some sleep because I am so tired I feel about ready to drop.”
Instead of steering him to the sofa Eddie pushes Buck towards the bed, giving him his quilt because Buck has a thicker quilt than Eddie and pulls the blackout blind down making the room dark, pulls out a pair of Buck’s pyjamas and grabs his phone. “You can sleep in here, I’ve got stuff to do out in the lounge so I’ll take your phone with me and I’ll order some food when it gets close to dinner, you’re sleeping as long as you need and if anyone calls I’ll tell them to fuck off, politely depending on who it is,” he tells him, and before Eddie has even managed to finish sorting out the clothes into the designated Buck drawer Buck is already snoring.
He sends the firefam chat a message telling them that Buck is safe at his and he’s finally getting some sleep and that under no circumstances, bar a fire, are they to come to his house, adding “I mean it, don’t come over, you’ll just wake him up and I warned you this would happen if you didn’t let him rest” and reminding them that they would push him if they didn’t let him get some rest. He then messages his Abuela and Tia telling them that Buck arrived at his no more than ten minutes ago and is already passed out but that they can still come over like planned as he had Buck lie down on his bed, his Abuela rings him asking “mijo, did he look okay, did he look like he’s eaten?” and Eddie replies that he looked exhausted and he isn’t sure if he has eaten because he didn’t exactly get time between asking why he didn’t use his key to let himself in and Buck explaining that he brought his quilt because he’s been running colder than usual since he woke up from the coma before falling asleep, Eddie adding “he barely made it through the door, Abuela” and admitting he didn’t get time to ask properly but asking if she could lower the level of spice in her food just to ease his stomach a bit as they know how he was after the tsunami, that he didn’t want very spicy food but still loved when the Diaz women cooked for him because it’s their love language, and his Abuela hums softly before telling him “I’ll bring something light, you can ask him when he wakes what the doctors said, sí?” and Eddie agrees, asking her to come round with whatever she was planning to take to his as is because he has some questions he doesn’t feel comfortable asking over the phone, to which she replies she’ll ask Pepa to bring her now, and when Eddie says he can come get her she refuses, saying “no, mijo, there’s no point bringing Christopher all the way here just to go back when Pepa is already with me.”
When his family arrive they keep their voices low, Pepa whispering “he really came straight here?” and his Abuela nodding slightly as they mention how Buck must really see the house as a safe space and a place to properly relax if this is the first place he came to, and that he fell asleep so quickly especially after being in a coma as that can cause people to have trouble sleeping. Eddie asks his Abuela if she can think of why Buck would suddenly think he would take back his key and she explains gently, “it’s different now, mijo, he is an omega and an unmated omega does not assume they have that kind of access to an alpha’s home, especially one with a child,” and when Eddie frowns she adds more quietly, “after your abuelo died I struggled with that too, even my closest friend, a different designation, did not just come into my home anymore, it is not about trust, it is about instinct, about safety feeling different,” explaining that it isn’t about Eddie taking something from Buck but about Buck trying not to take something he thinks he shouldn’t have anymore. Eddie shakes his head, quietly but firmly, “but he’s Buck,” because no matter his designation Buck is still Buck, still his best friend, still the person he turns to above everyone else, still the one who helps him with Chris, his rock, and it’s not like he’s going to do anything to upset him, Buck has always known not to come round during or shortly after or before his rut, even if he starts making the house carry more than just alpha pheromones he doesn’t care, in fact he huffs out a quiet “I kinda want to know what he actually smells like without the suppressants” before shaking his head at himself, knowing he will have to start tracking Buck’s heat the same way Buck tracks his rut so they can stay away from each other when needed.
After putting Chris to bed a little later than usual Eddie decides to check in with Buck and grab his pjs if the man is still asleep, murmuring “just grabbing your stuff, bud” as he opens the door, and he isn’t expecting to find Buck in the middle of making a nest, completely focused, not even turning at the sound of the door which tells Eddie everything he needs to know immediately. He knows this part is right for Buck, it’s been months since the suppressant was removed so this is expected, his body finally doing what it should have been allowed to do years ago, what isn’t expected is the way Eddie’s body reacts, because his rut isn’t due for months and yet he can feel it already under his skin, that pull that shouldn’t be there yet and shouldn’t be responding this fast, this strongly, and that’s what makes him move immediately, stepping back and closing the door just enough to give Buck privacy as he mutters “shit” under his breath and pulls out his phone. “Hen, I need you,” he says the moment she answers, voice low but urgent, “Buck’s going into heat and it’s triggered my rut, I need you to take Chris,” and Hen immediately responds, “okay, bring him by, you’re not gonna want me anywhere near your house when you’re both in pre,” and Eddie exhales sharply, shaking his head even though she can’t see it, “can’t, I’m already too far into it, I only just caught his scent and it’s already hitting, you’re gonna have to come get him,” and there’s a brief pause before she answers, more serious now, “alright, I’m on my way, don’t do anything stupid,” and Eddie lets out a tight breath before moving straight into Chris’s room, packing everything he’ll need for the week, clothes, essentials, his switch and games, moving quickly but carefully, waking Chris from his semi-sleep and murmuring “hey, bud, you’re gonna go stay with Hen for a few days, okay?” and when Chris mumbles a sleepy “okay” Eddie presses a quick kiss to his head before continuing, knowing he can’t risk driving like this, and when Hen arrives she takes one look at him and just says “yeah, I’ve got him,” not asking anything else as she takes Chris with her.
It takes about twenty minutes for Hen to show and in that time he prepares as much as he can to help Buck, placing an order for a case of Gatorade, glacier freeze for Buck and grape for himself, muttering under his breath “he’s gonna need fluids” as he adds ready meals because they’re quick and easy, Buck’s favourite snack bars for a quick fix especially during the first couple of days, paracetamol, heat pads, slick sheets, unscented wipes, and after a brief hesitation he exhales sharply and adds the knotting toy with a muttered “yeah, you’re gonna need that too,” because Buck doesn’t know what he’ll need and Eddie isn’t going to leave him unprepared, and once everything arrives he packages it into the plastic basket before knocking on the bedroom door, already able to smell how close the heat is even from outside, thick in the air, and he knows he needs to keep distance even as every instinct pushes him closer. When Buck calls for him to enter he steps inside and sees he has stripped down completely and is still adding things to his nest, and Eddie sets the basket down, explaining “these’ll help you through it, everything you need’s in there so you don’t have to leave,” adding that once it’s done he can come into the lounge and Eddie will help him strip the room, but as he turns to leave Buck whines and calls out “alpha” and it makes Eddie freeze completely. Even when he was with Shannon and she would jokingly call him her alpha it never made him freeze, maybe because she was a beta, but even when he’s heard other omegas call out for an alpha his body has never responded like this, never locked up like something inside him has just clicked into place.
When he was a little boy his abuelo told him that the one who could make an alpha stop like that would be their true mate, something he didn’t understand at the time but understands now as everything starts to line up, the early rut that shouldn’t be happening, the way his body is responding specifically to Buck, the way it was him who restarted Buck’s heart when no one else could, the way everything has always come back to Buck, and he realises the reason he’s being thrown into a rut when it has never been early before is because his body recognises Buck as his, that Buck is his omega, his better half, his son’s other parent, the one he will spend the rest of his life with, the one he will look back with and laugh about how long it took them to figure it out, and he exhales slowly, grounding himself because he knows before instinct takes over completely he needs to give Buck the choice, “you don’t take that from him,” he mutters to himself quietly before steeling himself and pushing the door open properly.
“Buck, can we talk real quick?” he asks, knowing it will pull him just enough to the surface, and Buck looks at him, confused but present enough to respond, “what’s up, Eds, what’s happening?” and Eddie takes a steady breath before explaining, “you’re in pre-heat right now, but you’re also pulling me into my rut early, and that’s not supposed to happen, not like this, not this far off my cycle,” he says carefully, watching him, “so I need to know what you’re okay with, I can call someone to take me to your loft, I can have you barricade the door if you need me in the house to feel safe but don’t want me near you, or I can stay and help you through it, but if I do that we’ll bond and I won’t be able to stop it once it starts,” he continues, voice steady even if everything in him isn’t, “and you need to know you’re not on contraception and neither am I so if we go through with it there’s a high chance you’ll get you pregnant,” and at that Buck lets out a soft, needy croon, instinctive and immediate, leaning into him rather than pulling away, and Eddie’s breath catches for half a second before he forces himself to keep going, making sure Buck still understands, shifting into something more structured, more deliberate, “you didn’t get the education for this so I’m going to tell you what’s going to happen,” explaining each step clearly, thoroughly, not leaving anything out because Buck deserves to understand what’s happening to his own body.
He doesn’t expect Buck to respond so clearly but he does, even through instinct. “That’s what I want,” Buck says, pulling him closer, “I want my alpha to claim me, I want to have your pups and I want to grow our family,” his voice uneven but certain, “I’m just a lucky omega who gets to say their alpha is their best friend,” and his grip tightens slightly as he continues, “you made this a home that feels safe and I know our pup is safe because you wouldn’t come in here if he wasn’t, I know the reason my body finally feels settled enough to enter its first heat is because my alpha is here to protect me,” his words slipping slightly but still grounded in truth, “and even if I don’t understand why I did all this, why I built this, I know I don’t want to leave it and I don’t want you anywhere but here with me.”
When Eddie actually looks at the nest he sees it’s more than just blankets and clothes, he can see the layers Buck has created to make it perfect, the size right for both of them, blankets woven together with scents from all parts of their family, not just current but older ones too, his army shirts at the base grounding it, Chris’s younger clothes there including the tsunami outfit, a shirt of Buck’s that no longer fits him that he gave to Eddie so it carries both their scents, the blanket Eddie always gives him when he sleeps on the sofa, and at the bottom half Eddie’s quilt and half Buck’s, everything layered together without Buck consciously knowing why he chose each piece but forming something that represents exactly what their family is, and Eddie exhales softly, “you built this for us,” before explaining gently but thoroughly what will happen to him, what his body will do, what he will feel, making sure Buck understands every part of it, not just physically but emotionally too, because he deserves that much and because Eddie isn’t going to fail him now that he finally understands what Buck is to him.
Before he even gets a chance to second guess if they’re ready for this Buck is pulling Eddie into his nest and removing his clothes, not throwing them to the floor but placing them carefully into the nest, making sure they stay within reach so he can still smell Eddie’s pre-rut scent when they’re locked together, and Eddie’s chest tightens for half a second at the deliberate care in it, at the way Buck is building something around them even now. Eddie wants to be slow, wants to make their first time something soft and deliberate, something they can both hold onto later, something that’s chosen and not just driven, and he does choose it for a second, he really does, but the moment his hand settles on Buck’s arse and he feels just how slick he is his breath catches and his rut snaps fully into place, instinct hitting hard enough that it almost steals that choice away. He doesn’t let it, not completely, holding onto just enough awareness to know this is Buck, this is his, this is theirs, even if everything in him is pushing faster, harder. He doesn’t know if he moves Buck or if Buck moves himself, only that the moment he presses forward and finally slides into the tight, wet heat it feels like coming home in a way that settles something deep in his chest, something he hadn’t known was missing until now, and it isn’t just physical, it isn’t just instinct, it’s recognition. He hadn’t known it could feel like this, hadn’t known the fit would be this exact, this right, hadn’t realised that his mate had been right in front of him all this time and that his body would know him this completely the second it had the chance. He’s barely even settled before Buck is arching back into him, pushing himself further, chasing something his body already understands, chasing the knot he knows is coming, and Eddie lets out a strained breath, murmuring “easy, Buck… I’ve got you,” even as his own control slips, because this is their first time, their last first time, the first time they could be creating their child, the first time he’s ever been inside his mate, the first time he’s ever seen Buck like this, and he doesn’t want to rush it even as everything in him is urging him to. The sounds Buck makes as he moves are enough to send him spiralling, raw and unfiltered, and Eddie’s grip tightens as he presses his forehead briefly to Buck’s back, grounding himself, telling himself these sounds are his, meant for him, a response to him, not something he needs to chase but something he needs to hold. He can feel his knot starting to swell with every movement, every pull and push catching slightly more than the last, and he forces out a warning, voice rough and strained, “Buck… it’s coming, you need to know what that means,” giving him the chance even now, even here, and when instinct pushes him to go for his scent gland he redirects it, biting down on Buck’s shoulder instead, holding himself there, holding onto control where he can. The thought that this could be the moment Buck gets pregnant hits him hard and fast and he exhales sharply as it pulls him under, deeper than anything he’s felt before, more than any rut, more than anything he’s known, and he feels the way Buck responds, the way his body holds him there, the way everything between them locks into place even before the bond fully sets, and even as instinct pushes him to keep going he forces himself to slow just enough, to breathe, to wait for his knot to settle because this isn’t just about instinct, this is about Buck, about them, about what they’re building.
Throughout the next five days Eddie makes sure they both eat and drink even if he has to coax Buck through it, murmuring “come on, baby, you’ve got to eat,” and “our pup needs you to take care of yourself, yeah?” and Buck softens at that every time, leaning into him, taking what he’s given because Eddie asked him to, because Eddie told him to, because somewhere under everything he trusts him completely. The house becomes theirs in a way it never has before, every room touched by it, the kitchen on day four when Buck insists “I want pasta, I need something real,” ending up with Buck bent over the table while Eddie just barely manages to keep the pan from going over with a muttered “you’re gonna be the death of me,” the lounge where Buck decides he wants to watch an episode of the zoo turning into Buck pressed back against him, held in place while the show plays half-forgotten, Buck humming softly every time Eddie shifts, and when Buck dozes off wrapped up in Eddie’s arms there’s no one there to see it, no one to interrupt, just the quiet of something that already feels like it belongs. The shower is meant to be quick, meant to be practical, a chance to clean up properly instead of relying on wipes, but it doesn’t stay that way for long, Buck gripping onto the rails as Eddie moves behind him, the sound of the water barely masking the way Buck cries out, loud enough that Eddie knows the neighbours probably hear something even if they don’t understand it, and he leans in close, murmuring “it’s okay, I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” grounding him even as he loses himself in it too. His favourite moment comes on day six when they’re both more aware, more present, when they actually talk and make the decision together to complete the bond properly, not driven by instinct but chosen, fully chosen, agreeing that Buck will bite him too so it goes both ways, so it’s equal, so it’s theirs. Buck lies back and Eddie settles over him, cocooning him in, slower this time, more deliberate, less about urgency and more about connection, about meaning, about something that will last, and when his knot catches he takes his time, pressing soft kisses along Buck’s neck, murmuring “you ready?” and feeling Buck nod against him, hearing him whisper “yeah… want you, Eds, want all of it,” and when it finally happens it’s deliberate, fangs sinking in at the same time, the bond settling into place with a certainty that leaves no room for doubt, and Eddie exhales sharply as he feels it, as he feels Buck too, as everything between them locks into something permanent, and when it’s done he stays there, easing back just enough to tend to the mark, licking over it, soothing it, grounding Buck as everything settles.
It isn’t until they both wake up without the pull of heat or rut pressing in on them that it fully settles in Eddie’s mind that Buck is his mate now, not just something he feels, not just something he’s known somewhere under the surface, but something real, something permanent, something chosen and returned, and he watches him for a second, really looks at him, at the way he’s settled into the space like he belongs there, like he always has, and he exhales softly, reaching out to pull him closer without thinking, without hesitation. Buck is his, his partner in every sense, his future, the person he will wake up next to every day, not separated by distance or hesitation or the walls they used to put between them, but close, real, theirs, and he doesn’t have to hold back anymore, doesn’t have to pretend this is anything less than what it is, doesn’t have to stand outside of it, because Buck is his omega and the future father of the family they’re building together, and this time when he wraps himself around him there’s nothing held back, nothing between them, just the quiet certainty that this is where they’re meant to be.
Buck doesn’t take the nest apart all at once, he can’t, even when he knows he should, even when the heat is gone and his body isn’t pulling him back into it the same way, because it still feels like something important, something more than just blankets and clothes thrown together in a rush. He sits in it first, fingers brushing over the layers he built without thinking, without understanding, tracing where Eddie’s shirts are woven into the base, where Chris’s clothes are tucked in between, where his own things are threaded through it like he needed every piece of them there to make it feel right, and maybe he did. He lets himself breathe it in one more time, slower now, clearer, not driven by instinct but still guided by something quieter that hasn’t gone away, something that still says this is yours, this is safe, this is home, and he realises that part hasn’t faded with the heat, it’s just… settled.
He starts small when he finally moves, pulling one piece at a time instead of tearing it apart, folding things instead of throwing them aside, keeping the structure intact for as long as he can even while he dismantles it, because it doesn’t feel right to destroy it, not after what it held, not after what it meant. Eddie’s shirt comes first and he pauses with it in his hands, pressing it briefly to his face before folding it properly, setting it aside instead of just dropping it, and he huffs out a quiet breath at himself because yeah, that’s new, that’s something he’s going to have to get used to, the way his body still leans into Eddie even when everything’s calm. “You’re not getting this back yet,” he mutters under his breath, half amused, half serious, already deciding without saying it out loud that some of these things aren’t going anywhere, not really.
By the time he gets to the bottom layers he’s slower, more careful, because that’s where the pieces that matter most are, where everything that made it feel like them instead of just something he built sits, Eddie’s old army shirts, Chris’s smaller clothes, the blanket that always ends up over him on the couch, the quilts split between them like they’ve already been sharing things without realising it. He sits back on his heels for a second, looking at what’s left, and it hits him properly then that he didn’t just build a nest, he built something that already knew what they were before they did, something that pulled all of it together without him understanding why he needed it, and now that he does understand it there’s no way he’s pretending it didn’t happen.
“Yeah, no, we’re not doing this halfway,” he says quietly to himself, dragging a hand through his hair as he looks around the room, already thinking ahead in a way he didn’t before, already shifting from reaction to planning, because if this is part of him now then it’s not something he’s going to ignore or push aside, it’s something he’s going to make space for. The thought settles in quickly, solid and certain, that this—this—can’t just be temporary, can’t just be something he throws together when his body demands it and then pulls apart like it didn’t matter, because it does matter, it mattered before he even knew why, and it definitely matters now.
He glances toward the doorway, toward the rest of the apartment, and huffs out a quiet laugh. “Okay, yeah, this place isn’t gonna cut it,” he says, shaking his head slightly, because a two-bedroom suddenly feels a lot smaller than it did before, a lot more temporary, and if everything Eddie said is right, if nesting isn’t just heat but stress, emotion, everything, then he’s going to need somewhere that’s his, somewhere he doesn’t have to take apart every time just to function like nothing’s changed. “We’re gonna need more space,” he adds, softer now, because it isn’t just about him, not anymore, not after everything they’ve said, everything they’ve chosen.
The idea builds quickly once it starts, slotting into place with a kind of ease that makes him realise how right it feels, bigger bedroom so he can have a permanent nest without it taking over everything else, or a spare room that’s just his, somewhere he can build it properly, leave it, come back to it without having to start from scratch every time. He can already picture it, already see how it would look, not chaotic, not thrown together, but intentional, layered, something that holds all of them in it without needing to be taken apart the second things settle down. “Yeah, that’s happening,” he says under his breath, more certain now, because if this is part of him then it deserves space, and if they’re building a family then they’re going to need that space anyway.
He picks up the last piece, one of the quilts, fingers tightening slightly around it before he folds it carefully, slower than the rest, and sets it aside with the others, leaving the bed bare but not empty, not really, because even without the nest there’s still something here now, something that wasn’t before. He exhales quietly, glancing toward the door again, knowing Eddie’s somewhere out there, knowing he can just walk out and find him, and for a second he stays where he is, grounded in the space that held them both, before pushing himself up and muttering, “yeah… we’re definitely moving,” like it’s already decided, like it’s already real, because as far as he’s concerned it is.