slow dancing on

There’s a dream that Buck keeps having. In the dream, there isn’t any sound. But he wakes up in Eddie’s bed, warm and soft and held. He wakes up in Eddie’s bed, the room dappled in golden morning light, and Eddie smiles and lifts a hand to card gentle fingers through Buck’s hair, strokes the backs of them down Buck’s cheek. His lips move, but Buck can’t hear him. It doesn’t matter though, because Eddie pulls him tight against his chest after that. Lips graze the edge of his hairline…and the scene shifts. He goes through a whole day in the dream, snippets of scenes that slide away before he can get a solid grip on them. Flickers and flashes of a silent movie playing over and over. Home. Love. Family. A life, a life, a life. In the dream, he has everything. In the dream, he’s not afraid. In the dream, he is whole. But…then he wakes up.