wip wednesday
tagged by my beloved @usercowboy! this is from a coda/spec fic im working on that might actually see the light of day. if you see this, consider yourself tagged, enjoy!
And on Monday, Eddie watches the police officer doing crowd control for them. The lean muscle and straight lines of his body, his tan skin and the aviators perched over his long nose, and imagines walking up to him and getting his attention, of getting to see what color his eyes are under the tinted lenses.
Tuesday comes with bumping hands at the fresh produce stand at the Farmer’s Market with a man with light brown hair, green eyes and wide shoulders underneath a knit cardigan, and Eddie pictures holding them as they browsed through the stands. Wednesday afternoon, there’s a dad at the pick-up line at Chris’s school, carrying his daughter’s backpack in one hand and running the other through shiny, auburn curls, and Eddie wonders if they’re as soft as they look.
Thursday is the first time someone on a call piques his attention, when the victim from a malfunctioning elevator clings to his hand as he helps him up through the roof opening, delicate pianist fingers on his own rough skin. Eddie’s touch lingers just a second, enough for the guy to shyly smile at him and sneak a post it with his number into his turnout’s pocket.
On Friday, he’s at their regular badge and ladder, nursing a beer by the bar while his teammates try their luck at darts, when a couple walks in, arms around each other, and stop a few feet from him to order drinks. Eddie feels like a creep, watching them as if they’re zoo animals, but he can’t tear his gaze from one of the guy’s hands as he reaches up to brush a strand of hair from his partners forehead. He goes home alone and imagines what could it be if he hadn’t, wonders what could happen if he ever found the courage to pick up some guy and bring him to his bed, if he’d be the one to take control or if he’d give it, willingly, to be slowly, thoroughly, foolishly taken apart.
On Saturday, he stares at his empty couch, empty kitchen, empty bed.
By the end of the week, he stops pretending he’s not imagining Buck filling his empty spaces.