Tuesday Tidbit
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This isn’t supposed to happen.
He’s breathing, taking in air, trying to. But it’s not reaching his lungs.
Nausea and bile are hot through his stomach, bleeding into his whole body. Internal bleeding, everything inside him broken and damaged. It’s too much heat, but it’s wrong heat that burns him and only hurts. Icy creeping crawling needles are all over his skin. He can’t move. He can’t pull away.
It’s not supposed to be this. It can’t be happening.
There are soft kisses on his face and a loving arm around him and it’s Buck’s hand on him, being so incredibly gentle and sweet and careful as he holds and intimately strokes. It’s Buck. This is his Buck. The other half of his heart. The man he wants to love forever. The one Eddie needs and adores and trusts and cherishes, the one he wants so badly, who always makes him feel comforted and safe.
And Eddie can’t bear the touch of his hand.
He can’t.
He doesn’t want to be touched this way.
But he doesn’t want to stop. How can they stop? He wanted this. He wants this. He wants Buck’s hands and his touch and his love and Eddie wants this with him.
But his body is trembly shaking unsettled earthquakes. It’s too cold, too hot, too much.
His eyes start leaking and he hates this. He hates his body. It always turns against him. It’s always against him. He hates feeling. He hates being unable to feel. He hates that it’s never right. It’s never right and he can’t do it anymore.
“Buck,” he reaches for Buck’s hand and can barely choke out any words. “Stop. I can’t— I don’t— I don’t. Don’t.”
Buck freezes, stops, turns to stone and ice. But lets go of him.
And it’s both the thing that lets Eddie breathe again and the thing that makes him burst into tears.
