He Goes, I go

As soon as he says it, Buck hears how pathetic it sounds. He hopes Eddie is asleep already.

No such luck. Eddie rolls over onto his side toward Buck. “Yeah?”

Buck sniffs—Jesus, is he getting teary? “Yeah. Sorry, I know I sound stupid. Just everything today—“

“I don’t think you sound stupid, Buck,” Eddie says quietly. “I think—you’re allowed to want that.”

Buck swipes at his nose. “Yeah, no, I mean. It’s not like my biological clock is literally ticking, like it is for women or whatever. But I just turned 34, and I don’t know. I thought it would’ve happened by now. And even if I meet someone tomorrow, by the time we actually got around to getting married and having a baby, that’s still years away. And…I want it.” Buck’s voice cracks. “I want it really bad.”

A light pressure on his wrist—Eddie’s moving the hand that’s covering Buck’s face. He drops Buck’s arm down onto the pillow, but keeps his fingers pressing to the inside of his wrist. Where you’d take a pulse. “Okay,” Eddie murmurs. “Okay, let’s have a baby.”

Buck turns over to stare. “Eddie.”

“What?”

A hysterical laugh bubbles up inside Buck. “I—we aren’t together.”

Eddie shrugs minutely. “You want a baby. I could have a baby.”

“What exactly are you offering here? Because last I checked, it’s not exactly as simple as one of us getting knocked up—”

Eddie shrugs again. Buck’s eyes have adjusted enough to see that he looks infuriatingly calm. “We’ll adopt. Or something. We’ll figure it out.”

Buck feels lightheaded. “I don’t think adoption agencies are big fans of two random best friends deciding to raise a baby together.”

“So we’ll get married,” Eddie says casually. Like it’s not completely insane. “If that’s what we need to do.”

“I…” Buck shakes his head like he’s trying to clear an Etch-A-Sketch. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking,” Eddie says, rubbing his thumb along Buck’s wrist. “I’m offering.”

“But why? Why would you—”

“Because you want a baby,” Eddie says. “And I want you to have what you want.”

Buck shakes his head. “That’s not—”

“And,” Eddie continues. “I love being a dad, and I know you’d be a really good dad.” He laughs through his nose. “Practically are one to Chris already, anyway. So.”

“So,” Buck repeats stupidly. Trying to wrap his head around it.

“So,” Eddie confirms. “So let’s have a baby.”

And the fucked-up part is that insane as this conversation is, Buck can see it all so clearly. Midnight feedings and diaper changes. Installing a car seat in the back of the Prius. Eddie in the kitchen in the early morning, bathed in golden light, drinking his coffee with a sleepy baby in his arms. A ring on his finger, even if Eddie’s straight, even if it’s just for show. Because Eddie’s offering a lot, but he’s not offering—that, exactly. But it’s okay. Buck will take what he can get.

It’s not the precise life Buck would’ve pictured. But maybe it’s close enough.

“Okay,” Buck whispers. “Okay, let’s have a baby.”

Eddie nods sleepily. “Let’s have a baby,” he says, yawning. “G’night, Buck.”