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Morning came in slow across the land, the light settling rather than breaking, pale at first and then warming as it spread over the dry grass and the low fencing that marked out the edges of what they’d built, and Buck woke into it with that familiar, steady awareness of himself that had become impossible to ignore, the weight of his body different now in a way that wasn’t uncomfortable but wasn’t forgettable either. He lay still for a moment with one hand resting over the curve of his stomach, thumb brushing absently against the fabric of his shirt as he shifted slightly, feeling the pull of it, the quiet, constant presence that came with it, and behind him Eddie was warm and solid, one arm slung low across his middle as if he’d settled there sometime in the night and hadn’t thought to move. Buck let out a slow breath through his nose, letting himself sit in that for a few seconds before the dull, insistent edge of hunger made itself known, not sharp enough to hurt but persistent enough that ignoring it wasn’t really an option anymore.
Eddie stirred not long after, breath warm where it brushed the back of Buck’s neck as he murmured, voice rough with sleep, “You’re awake already,” and Buck huffed quietly, tipping his head back just enough to nudge against him as he answered, “Yeah, and I’m starving, so if you’re not up in the next minute I’m leaving you,” which earned him a soft exhale that might have been a laugh, Eddie’s arm tightening briefly before he shifted, pressing a lingering kiss just below Buck’s ear as he said, “Give me a second,” like that meant anything, though Buck didn’t move straight away, because the warmth was grounding, because this part of the morning always was, even when everything else felt like it moved too quickly after.
Christopher was already awake when they stepped out into the main space, seated at the table with a book open in front of him, one finger marking his place as he looked up at the sound of them, his expression brightening slightly as he said, “You’re late,” with the kind of certainty that didn’t quite match the reality of it, and Buck snorted softly as he reached over to ruffle his hair in passing, replying, “We’re not late, you’re just early,” even as he moved towards the small kitchen area, already pulling things together without much thought, because the hunger hadn’t eased, because it wouldn’t until he actually ate something. There was no coffee waiting, hadn’t been for months, and Buck didn’t reach for it anymore, not even out of habit, just set about heating what they had, grabbing what was ready, eating as he stood with an ease that came from repetition rather than intention, while Eddie moved around behind him getting Christopher sorted with a quiet efficiency that didn’t draw attention to itself.
They left together not long after, the three of them stepping out into the warming morning with an easy rhythm that had settled into something instinctive, Christopher keeping pace between them as they crossed the short stretch of land towards the central building, his book now tucked under his arm as he said, “Are we doing lessons outside today,” and Buck glanced over at him, considering it for a moment before answering, “If you lot manage not to drive me insane in the first ten minutes, maybe,” which earned him a small, knowing look that said Christopher didn’t quite believe that was how it worked, even as he smiled, and Eddie huffed quietly beside them, adding, “That’s a big ask,” under his breath in a way that still carried.
The central building was already open when they reached it, the wide doors pushed back to let the air move through, and the space inside was alive in that low, steady way it always was at this time, people moving through their routines, voices overlapping, the scent of food carrying warm and familiar through the space though Buck had already taken the edge off his hunger, even if it hadn’t settled it completely. Athena sat at the long table with a mug in hand, her gaze sharp as it lifted when they entered, taking them in with a quick, assessing look that softened just slightly as she said, “Morning,” and Buck returned it easily, lifting a hand in brief acknowledgement as he moved further in, Eddie close at his side, Christopher already angling towards the table before pausing, glancing back as if to check where he was meant to be, and Buck nodded towards the classroom space with a quiet, “Give us a minute, yeah,” which he accepted without complaint, because this was routine now, because it made sense.
Maddie was already in the classroom by the time Buck stepped through, a stack of materials spread neatly across the table, her movements efficient as she set things out, and she glanced up as he entered, offering a brief, “You’re early,” that carried a hint of approval beneath it, and Buck grinned in response as he leaned back against the edge of the desk, one hand settling absently over his stomach as he said, “Don’t get used to it,” even as he shifted slightly, adjusting without thinking, because there was always that quiet awareness there now, in the way he stood, the way he moved, something that didn’t quite fade into the background no matter how normal everything else felt.
Outside, the sound of the others carried faintly through the open space, voices overlapping, movement constant, but in here it was quieter, contained, the kind of space that would fill quickly once the kids came in, and Buck let out a slow breath, rolling his shoulders once before glancing over at Maddie as he added, “What are we starting with, because if it’s anything that lets them ask questions we’re going to regret it,” and she snorted softly at that, not looking up as she replied, “We always regret it, that doesn’t stop you,” which was fair, and Buck didn’t argue, just smiled slightly as he let himself settle into the moment before everything picked up again, before the room filled, before the day properly began.
They didn’t linger long after eating, not with the day already moving around them in that steady, purposeful way it always seemed to, people peeling off towards their own tasks as the noise shifted from something communal into something more scattered, and Buck pushed back from the table with a quiet exhale, brushing his hands together as if that alone might settle the persistent edge of hunger that never quite went away these days. Eddie caught his wrist lightly as he stood, just for a second, his thumb pressing briefly against the inside before he let go, his voice low as he said, “Come find me later, yeah,” and Buck nodded without thinking too much about it, answering, “Yeah, I will,” because that was routine as much as anything else, because they always circled back to each other no matter how the day split them apart.
Christopher fell into step with Buck as they moved away from the table, his book tucked under his arm again, his attention already shifting ahead as he asked, “Are we finishing the reading from yesterday,” and Buck glanced down at him, considering it for a second before answering, “For part of it, yeah, then we’re doing writing, so don’t get too comfortable,” which earned him a small, unimpressed look that didn’t quite hide the hint of a smile underneath, and Buck bumped his shoulder lightly in response, because he could, because it was easy, before pushing the classroom door open and letting them both step into the quieter space beyond.
Maddie was already there, of course she was, a stack of papers spread out neatly across the table, the windows open just enough to let the air move through, and she glanced up as they came in, offering a brief, “Perfect timing,” as if that had ever really been in question, and Buck snorted softly at that as he moved to set a few things down, replying, “You say that like we’re ever late,” even though they both knew that wasn’t strictly true, and she didn’t bother arguing, just shook her head slightly as she said, “Give them five minutes and then we’ll start,” already shifting into that steady, prepared focus that made everything run smoother whether the kids realised it or not.
The morning settled quickly once they got going, the room filling in a rush of noise that took a few minutes to shape into something manageable, chairs scraping and voices overlapping until Buck clapped his hands once, not loud enough to startle but enough to cut through as he said, “All right, sit, we’re starting,” and that did it, or close enough, the rest of the chatter fading into something lower as they eased into the work. It was familiar, deliberately so, reading first, letting them pick up where they’d left off the day before, the quiet murmur of voices rising and falling as they worked through it, some faster than others, some needing a little more guidance, and Buck moved between them without much thought, leaning over shoulders, tapping lightly at lines that needed correcting, offering quiet, “Try that again,” or “You’ve skipped a bit,” in a tone that didn’t make it feel like a failure, just part of the process.
Christopher barely needed the help, focused in a way that had always come naturally to him, though he still looked up when Buck paused beside him, tapping the page lightly as he asked, “Is that right,” and Buck bent slightly to check, one hand braced against the table as he scanned it, nodding after a second as he replied, “Yeah, that’s good, just watch your spelling there,” tapping the word in question, and Christopher nodded, already fixing it without fuss, his attention snapping back to the page as if nothing else existed, and Buck felt that familiar, quiet warmth at the sight of it before moving on.
Writing came after, a little louder, a little more restless as the focus shifted, questions popping up more frequently, complaints slipping in around the edges when they were asked to do more than they wanted to, and Buck handled most of it without thinking, leaning back against the edge of the desk at one point as he answered something from across the room, his hand drifting, as it had been all morning, to rest lightly over his stomach, fingers pressing absently against the fabric of his shirt as he shifted his weight. It wasn’t something he paid much attention to, not really, just habit now, just the way his body settled without him having to think about it, though he was aware, distantly, of how often it happened, how natural it had become.
By the time they called a break the room had started to lose its focus, the restless energy building in a way that never led anywhere good if they ignored it, and Maddie caught his eye from across the table, lifting her brows slightly in silent agreement before she said, “All right, that’s enough for now, go on, get some air, we’ll pick this up later,” and the reaction was immediate, chairs scraping back, voices rising again as they spilled out of the room in a loose, noisy group that never quite stayed together but never fully scattered either.
Buck stayed back for a second, letting the noise move past him as he exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders once before pushing himself upright, his hand lingering briefly where it rested before dropping back to his side, and Maddie glanced over as she gathered a few of the scattered papers, her expression softening just slightly as she asked, “You good,” not making it a thing, just checking, and Buck nodded easily, because he was, because this was all normal, answering, “Yeah, just ready to eat again,” with a small, almost amused huff that earned him a quiet laugh in return as she said, “You and everyone else,” before nudging past him towards the door.
The central building was louder again when they stepped back into it, the midday shift pulling people in from all directions, the long table already filling as food was set out in a way that felt communal without being chaotic, and Buck didn’t hesitate this time, moving straight towards it with the kind of focus that came from that constant, underlying hunger, reaching for whatever was closest as he dropped into a seat, barely waiting before he started eating. Eddie appeared not long after, settling into the space beside him as if he’d always been there, his presence familiar and steady, and Buck leaned into it without thinking, just slightly, enough that their shoulders brushed as Eddie asked quietly, “How was the morning,” and Buck shrugged one shoulder in response, mouth still half full as he said, “Normal, no disasters yet,” which earned him a soft, amused sound in return, Eddie’s hand coming to rest briefly against his back before dropping away again.
Around them the conversation rose and fell, overlapping in that easy way that never quite settled into silence, and Buck let himself fall into it without much thought, eating, listening, responding when it felt natural, the morning already slipping into something background and familiar, though somewhere in the back of his mind there was the awareness of what they had planned for later, the lesson they hadn’t touched yet, the one that would shift things out of this easy rhythm and into something a little more deliberate, a little more careful, and he didn’t dwell on it, not yet, just let the moment sit as it was while it lasted.
The shift into the afternoon came gradually rather than all at once, the noise around the table thinning as people drifted back to their tasks, the heat settling more firmly over the land now that the sun had climbed high, and Buck took his time finishing what was left on his plate before pushing it away with a quiet exhale, aware in that distant, familiar way that he was still hungry, that he probably would be again sooner rather than later, but it was manageable, it always was. Eddie nudged his shoulder lightly as he stood, his voice low as he said, “Don’t stay out too long if it gets too hot,” and Buck huffed softly at that, glancing over at him as he replied, “I’ll survive a couple of hours, relax,” though there was no real bite to it, just the easy back and forth that came without thinking, and Eddie’s mouth tipped slightly at the corner as if he didn’t quite believe him but wasn’t going to argue the point, his hand brushing briefly at Buck’s side before he stepped away.
They didn’t go back inside the classroom, not for this, the air too warm and the space too closed for something that didn’t need it, and Buck carried a small stack of papers out with him as he crossed to the shaded stretch just beyond the building, where the ground dipped slightly and the grass, dry as it was, still offered somewhere to sit without it feeling like a chore. A few of the kids were already there, Christopher among them, settled carefully with his back against one of the low posts, watching as Buck approached, and Buck dropped the papers down onto the crate they used as a makeshift surface, glancing around as he said, “All right, if you’re here you might as well sit properly, we’re not waiting for the stragglers all day,” which prompted a scramble that was only half serious, bodies shifting into something that resembled a circle without ever quite managing it.
Maddie joined him a moment later, lowering herself onto the edge of the crate with an ease that spoke of repetition, her gaze flicking over the group once before she said, “We’re doing something a bit different this afternoon,” and that was enough to pull the last threads of attention into place, the low murmur settling as the kids focused in, curiosity always quicker to rise when they sensed a change. Buck remained standing for a moment, then shifted, easing himself down onto the grass instead, one knee bent, the other stretched slightly, his hand coming to rest without thought over the curve of his stomach as he looked around at them, taking in the way they watched, the way they waited, and he let a small breath out before he said, “This is the kind of thing you’ve all probably heard bits about already, but not always explained properly, so we’re going to go through it in a way that actually makes sense.”
Maddie picked up from there, her tone steady, grounded as she asked, “What do you think makes alphas and omegas different,” and the answers came quicker this time, less hesitant than they’d been in the morning, “Strength,” “Heats,” “Scenting,” the words tossed out with varying levels of confidence, and she nodded through them, not dismissing, just shaping as she said, “Some of that’s part of it, yeah, but it’s not everything,” glancing briefly at Buck before continuing, “People like to make it sound simple, but it isn’t always.”
Buck leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms against his knee as he added, “Bodies work differently, that’s the main thing, alphas, betas, omegas, they all have different ways of handling things, but that doesn’t decide who someone is as a person,” keeping his voice easy, not lecturing, just explaining, and for a moment it held, the group quiet in that attentive way that didn’t come often but always felt worth something when it did.
It was one of the younger ones who asked it first, something small and tentative about how omegas could have babies, and Maddie answered simply, “Some can, yeah, it depends on the person,” and Buck nodded, adding, “It’s just one thing their bodies can do, not something that defines them,” the words familiar, deliberate, the kind of phrasing they’d agreed on beforehand so it stayed clear, so it didn’t narrow into something it shouldn’t.
For a second it felt steady, like they might move past it without anything catching, the conversation shifting naturally into something else, but Buck was aware, distantly, of the way Robbie had gone quiet, his attention fixed in a way that meant he was thinking, connecting something, and Buck didn’t quite have time to anticipate it before he spoke, his voice clear, curious rather than sharp as he said, “Is that why you’re getting fat,” and the question landed clean in the open air, carrying further than it might have inside, the brief, sudden stillness that followed settling just as quickly around it.
Buck felt it before he reacted, that small, tight pause somewhere low in his chest, his breath catching just enough that he had to smooth it over, and he let out a short, almost automatic huff that might have passed for a laugh as his hand stilled where it rested, fingers pressing lightly against the fabric as if grounding himself without quite meaning to. Maddie moved first, her voice calm but firm as she said, “Hey, we don’t talk about people’s bodies like that, okay, it can make people uncomfortable,” not harsh, not shaming, just clear, and Robbie’s expression shifted immediately, the realisation quick as he ducked his head slightly, muttering, “Sorry,” in a way that carried enough sincerity to settle the worst of it.
Buck nodded before he’d fully thought it through, his voice steady enough even if it felt just a fraction too tight as he said, “It’s all right, you didn’t mean anything by it,” because he hadn’t, because that wasn’t the point, even if the words had landed somewhere they hadn’t before, somewhere that didn’t quite settle as easily as he wanted it to. Maddie didn’t let the moment linger, guiding them back with a gentle, “Right, let’s keep going,” and the conversation picked up again in pieces, the rhythm returning slowly, though Buck found that something in him had shifted just enough that he couldn’t quite ignore it, his awareness of himself sharper now, the way he sat, the way his shirt pulled when he moved, all of it suddenly more present even as he kept his tone even, kept the lesson moving as if nothing had changed at all.
The lesson wound down more slowly than it had begun, the energy never quite settling back into what it had been before, even if the kids themselves didn’t seem to notice, their attention shifting easily as Maddie guided them onto something lighter, something that didn’t sit so heavily. Buck followed where he could, answering when needed, letting the rhythm carry him through the last stretch, though it felt just slightly off, like he was a step behind himself without quite knowing why. By the time they called it, the heat had deepened into something thicker, pressing low in the air as the kids scattered in loose groups, voices already rising again as they headed back towards the central building.
Buck stayed behind for a moment, gathering the papers with more care than they really needed, his hand pausing once against his stomach before dropping again, a slow breath leaving him as if he could ease something out with it. Maddie watched him quietly as she stacked the last of the books, her voice soft when she said, “You don’t have to brush it off,” not pushing, just there, and Buck shook his head slightly, not quite meeting her eyes as he answered, “I’m not, it was just a kid,” which was true, even if it hadn’t felt like nothing, even if it had lodged somewhere he couldn’t quite ignore.
She didn’t argue, just nodded once in that way that said she understood more than he was saying, and Buck let that sit before turning back towards the building, the familiar shape of it grounding in a way the open space hadn’t quite managed. Inside, the air was cooler, shaded, the low murmur of voices already settled into something steady, and Buck stepped into it with an ease that didn’t quite reach all the way through him, aware, distantly, of the way his shoulders sat tighter than they had earlier.
Eddie was there near the long table, one hand resting against the back of a chair as he spoke quietly with Bobby, and both of them looked up as Buck came in, Eddie first, his attention sharpening immediately, Bobby a beat later but no less certain, his gaze settling with that same steady awareness that always seemed to read more than Buck wanted it to. Buck let out a small breath that could almost pass for a laugh as he dropped the papers onto the table, saying, “We got through it,” like that was enough, like that covered everything.
Bobby’s head tilted slightly, his eyes narrowing just a fraction as he stepped closer, not crowding, just enough to close the space, and his voice was quiet when he said, “What were you teaching,” not casual, not really, something in it just weighted enough to make Buck pause before answering. Eddie shifted nearer at his side without thinking, not touching yet but close, and Buck glanced between them before exhaling softly, one hand lifting before settling instead against his stomach as he said, “Alpha, beta, omega stuff, basics mostly, what it means, how it works,” keeping it simple at first, though it didn’t quite feel like enough.
Bobby nodded once, slow, his expression unreadable in that way it often was, and Buck huffed quietly under his breath before adding, a little more deliberate now, “We got onto omegas, what their bodies can do, and Robbie asked…” he paused there, just for a second, like saying it might make it land again, before finishing, “he asked if that was why I’m getting fat,” the words flat, stripped of the moment but not of the weight behind them.
Something shifted in Bobby’s expression then, not sharp, not defensive, just a quiet understanding that settled in place, and he exhaled softly through his nose as he said, “He shouldn’t have said that,” not harsh, not angry, just certain, and Buck shook his head slightly at that, already pushing back even as his hand stayed where it was, fingers pressing lightly as he replied, “He didn’t mean it like that, he was just connecting things,” because that mattered, because it did, even if it hadn’t stopped it landing the way it had.
Eddie moved then, closing the last bit of space between them, his hand coming to rest warm and steady at Buck’s back, and Buck leaned into it without thinking, just slightly, enough to ground himself as Bobby’s gaze stayed on him, softer now as he said, “Doesn’t change how it made you feel,” and Buck let out a quiet breath at that, something in his shoulders loosening just a fraction even as he didn’t quite look up, because that was the part he hadn’t said, the part he hadn’t really wanted to put words to, even if it sat there anyway, just under the surface.
Buck didn’t linger much longer after that, not because anything had been resolved but because staying there, under the weight of Bobby’s quiet understanding and Eddie’s steady attention, felt like it might pull more out of him than he was ready to give in the middle of a room that never quite emptied. He let out a slow breath, shifting slightly as if to reset himself before saying, “I’m going to head back for a bit,” not asking, just stating it, and Eddie nodded immediately, no hesitation, his hand pressing once, briefly, at Buck’s back as he replied, “I’ll come with you,” in a tone that made it clear that wasn’t up for debate.
Christopher was already halfway out the door with the other kids, voices carrying back in a loose, overlapping stream that faded as they moved further across the land, and Buck caught a glimpse of him in the open space beyond, his posture relaxed in a way that meant he’d already let the day slide off him, already moved on to whatever came next, and Buck felt something ease at that, just slightly, enough that he didn’t feel the need to call him back, just lifted a hand in brief acknowledgement when Christopher glanced over, receiving a quick, easy smile in return before he disappeared into the wider sprawl of movement and noise.
The walk back to their house was short, familiar, the path worn into the ground more by repetition than design, and Buck didn’t say anything at first, the quiet settling between them in a way that wasn’t uncomfortable but wasn’t entirely easy either, the earlier moment sitting just beneath the surface, not pressing but not gone. Eddie stayed close at his side, not crowding, just present, his hand brushing once against Buck’s fingers before slipping away again, a small, grounding contact that didn’t ask for anything in return, and Buck let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding as they reached the door, pushing it open and stepping inside where the air was still and shaded, the shift immediate, like stepping out of something he hadn’t fully noticed he was in.
He didn’t move far once they were inside, just a few steps before stopping, one hand coming up again without thought to rest over his stomach, fingers pressing lightly as if to anchor himself, and for a second he didn’t say anything, just stood there with his shoulders drawn a little tighter than usual, his gaze fixed somewhere unfocused ahead of him. Eddie gave him that space, closing the door quietly behind them before stepping closer, not touching yet, his voice low when he said, “Talk to me,” simple, steady, not pushing but not letting him disappear into it either.
Buck huffed softly at that, a sound that didn’t quite reach anything lighter as he shook his head, still not looking at him as he replied, “It’s stupid,” which was easier, simpler than admitting anything else, even if it didn’t feel entirely true, and Eddie didn’t take that at face value, didn’t brush it off, just stepped closer until there was barely any space between them, his hand coming to rest warm and solid at Buck’s hip, grounding, as he said, “It didn’t feel stupid,” and that was the problem, wasn’t it, because it hadn’t.
For a moment Buck didn’t answer, his thumb moving absently against the fabric of his shirt where his hand rested, the motion small, repetitive, before he let out a slow breath and said, quieter now, “He just said it like it was obvious,” the words coming out flatter than he meant them to, stripped back to the part that had actually stuck, and he finally looked up then, meeting Eddie’s gaze with something uncertain sitting just beneath the surface as he added, “Like that’s all anyone sees.”
Eddie’s expression didn’t shift much, but something in it softened, steady and sure as his hand slid slightly, fingers spreading at Buck’s side as if to anchor him more firmly in place, and he shook his head once, slow, as he said, “That’s not what I see,” the words simple, but certain in a way that didn’t leave room for doubt, and Buck’s breath caught just slightly at that, not enough to be obvious, just enough that he felt it, the tension in his chest easing a fraction even as it didn’t fully let go, not yet, not while the rest of it still sat there waiting to be said.
Buck held Eddie’s gaze for a second longer than he meant to, like he was trying to measure the truth of that against everything that had settled under his skin since the lesson, and then he looked away again, his shoulders drawing in just slightly as if the space around him had shifted in a way he couldn’t quite adjust to. His hand didn’t move from where it rested over his stomach, if anything it pressed a little more firmly now, thumb dragging once against the fabric as he said, quieter, rougher at the edges than he’d intended, “It doesn’t feel like that,” and that was the problem, wasn’t it, not what Eddie saw, not what anyone said, but what it felt like when he was standing there under that kind of attention, stripped down to something simple and obvious in a way that didn’t leave much room for anything else.
Eddie didn’t interrupt, didn’t try to correct him straight away, just stayed where he was, steady and close, his hand warm at Buck’s side as he let him keep going, and Buck did, because he couldn’t quite stop now that he’d started, the words coming a little quicker, a little less controlled as he said, “I know what it is, I know what’s happening, I’m not confused about that, but it’s like…” he trailed off, exhaling sharply as he shook his head, searching for something that felt close enough, “like I don’t look like me anymore, and everyone else can see it before I’ve even caught up with it,” his voice catching just slightly on the last part, frustration threading through it more than anything else.
Eddie stepped closer then, closing the last of the space between them, his other hand coming up slowly, deliberately, not rushing it as he rested it over Buck’s where it pressed against his stomach, grounding the movement rather than stopping it, his touch firm and certain without being overwhelming. Buck stilled under it for a second, his breath hitching just slightly, and Eddie’s voice was low when he spoke, close enough that Buck could feel it as much as hear it as he said, “You still look like you,” and Buck huffed softly at that, not quite convinced, his head tipping back just enough to meet his eyes again as he replied, “That’s not what it feels like.”
“I know,” Eddie answered, easily, not arguing the point, his thumb shifting slightly where it rested, a slow, steady motion that seemed more about keeping Buck anchored than anything else, “but what it feels like isn’t always the whole truth,” and there was something in the way he said it that didn’t dismiss Buck’s experience, didn’t flatten it into something smaller, just held it alongside something steadier.
Buck swallowed, his gaze dropping again as he shifted his weight, aware in a way he hadn’t been earlier of how his body moved, how it settled, the curve under his hand that hadn’t been there before, and he let out a breath that felt a little uneven as he said, “He said it like it was just… obvious, like that’s the first thing you’d think looking at me,” and there it was, the part that had stuck, the part that hadn’t quite let go even when he’d told himself it shouldn’t matter.
Eddie’s hand tightened just slightly where it rested over Buck’s, not enough to hurt, just enough to ground, and he shook his head once, his gaze steady as he said, “It’s obvious you’re pregnant, yeah,” and Buck flinched almost imperceptibly at that, the confirmation landing a little sharper than anything else had, but Eddie didn’t let it sit there on its own, didn’t let it turn into something heavier as he continued, softer now but no less certain, “but that’s not all there is when I look at you,” his hand shifting then, sliding from where it rested over Buck’s to trace slowly up his side, deliberate, attentive, as if mapping something he already knew by heart.
Buck’s breath caught again, more noticeably this time, his shoulders easing just a fraction despite himself as Eddie’s touch settled, warm and steady, and Eddie tipped his head slightly, his forehead brushing lightly against Buck’s as he went on, “I see you, Buck, not just this, not just what your body’s doing, all of it,” the words quiet but grounded in something that didn’t waver, and Buck let out a shaky breath at that, his hand finally loosening where it had pressed so tightly.
Eddie didn’t stop there, didn’t pull back, his hand sliding again, slower this time, more deliberate as it came to rest fully over the curve of Buck’s stomach, his palm broad and warm, his touch reverent in a way that made Buck’s chest tighten for an entirely different reason as he said, “And this doesn’t make you less, not even close,” his thumb brushing once, gently, against the fabric as he added, “if anything, it’s the opposite,” and there was something in his voice then, something softer but no less certain, that settled into Buck in a way the earlier reassurance hadn’t quite managed. Buck swallowed again, his eyes dropping to where Eddie’s hand rested, watching the way it moved, the way it stayed, and he let out a breath that felt like it had been caught somewhere too high for too long as he said, quieter now, “It doesn’t feel like that yet,” honest in a way he hadn’t quite let himself be before.
“I know,” Eddie said again, just as easily, not pushing, not expecting it to change all at once, his other hand coming up to cup the back of Buck’s neck, warm and steady as he drew him in just slightly, their foreheads resting together as he added, “but it will,” not a promise forced into place, just a quiet certainty that didn’t need to be louder than that.
For a moment Buck just stayed there, letting himself lean into it, into the warmth of Eddie’s hands, the steadiness of him, the way he didn’t rush it or try to smooth it over too quickly, and the tightness in his chest eased by degrees rather than all at once, leaving something softer in its place, something that didn’t fix everything but made it feel a little less sharp, a little more manageable than it had a few minutes before.
Eddie felt the shift in Buck before he said anything else, the way the tension in him had eased just enough to leave something quieter behind, something more open, and he didn’t rush it, didn’t break the moment too quickly, just stayed there with him, their foreheads still resting together, his hand warm and steady where it curved over Buck’s stomach. Buck’s breathing had evened out a little, though there was still that faint tightness sitting under it, something not fully settled, and Eddie’s thumb moved slowly, almost absent in its motion, a small, grounding rhythm that kept Buck anchored in the space between them.
For a few seconds neither of them spoke, the quiet stretching without becoming uncomfortable, and then Buck huffed a soft breath, his voice lower now, less sharp at the edges as he said, “I hate that it got to me,” like that was the part bothering him most, not just what had been said but the fact that it had landed at all, that it had stuck. Eddie pulled back just enough to look at him properly, his hand staying where it was as he answered, “It makes sense that it did,” not dismissing it, not minimising it, just letting it be what it was, and Buck’s mouth twitched faintly at that, like he wanted to argue but didn’t quite have the energy for it anymore.
Eddie’s gaze softened as he took him in, really looked at him in a way that was deliberate, unhurried, and Buck felt it, the weight of that attention settling over him differently to how it had earlier, not sharp, not exposing, just steady, just certain. Eddie’s hand shifted slightly, spreading more fully over the curve beneath his palm, and he said, quieter now but no less sure, “You’re carrying our baby,” like it was something solid, something real enough to stand on, and Buck swallowed at that, his eyes dropping briefly before lifting again, something in his expression still uncertain but less guarded than it had been a few minutes ago.
Eddie let the silence sit for a beat, then added, almost like an afterthought but with that same grounded certainty threaded through it, “The only reason I’m not keeping you pregnant is because you don’t want them too close together,” and the words weren’t rushed, weren’t sharp, just stated plainly, the kind of truth that didn’t need dressing up to mean something. Buck blinked at that, caught off guard in a way that pulled him out of his own head for a second, his breath hitching slightly as he processed it, because that wasn’t what he’d expected, not in this moment, not framed like that.
Eddie didn’t pull back from it, didn’t soften it into something else, just held his gaze, his hand still warm and steady where it rested as he went on, a fraction quieter, “That’s it,” making it clear, making sure there was no space for Buck to twist it into something it wasn’t, “not because I don’t want you, not because I don’t look at you and…” he trailed off slightly, not searching for the words so much as choosing them carefully, his thumb brushing once more in that slow, grounding motion before he finished, “because I do.”
The tension in Buck shifted again, something loosening in a way that felt different this time, less sharp, less defensive, and he let out a breath that sounded almost like a quiet laugh, though it didn’t quite reach that, his hand finally moving, not away but over Eddie’s where it rested, fingers curling lightly as if to hold it there rather than push it off. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, though there was no real bite to it, just a kind of shaky disbelief that sat somewhere between overwhelmed and relieved.
Eddie’s mouth curved slightly at that, not quite a smile but close enough, his other hand still steady at the back of Buck’s neck as he replied, “Yeah, you love it,” easy, familiar, grounding in a different way now, and Buck huffed softly again, the sound lighter this time as he leaned into him without thinking, letting his forehead drop back against Eddie’s, the earlier tightness easing by degrees into something softer, something steadier, held there in the warmth of Eddie’s hands and the quiet certainty of the way he looked at him, like nothing about this, about him, had ever been reduced to something smaller.