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English
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Part 4 of word prompts
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Published:
2025-09-08
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1,282
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1/1
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damp bananas

Summary:

“My dads,” Christopher mumbles in his sleep. “Are getting married.”

Eddie clears his throat. From the corner of his eye, he can see Buck’s knuckles tighten on the steering wheel.

“I’m not a flower girl!” Christopher continues, annoyed. “I have no flowers.”

“Maybe we should wake him?” Buck suggests. “He seems, um. Distressed.”

 

Or, Christopher sleep talks. Buck and Eddie get a front row seat to his dream.

Notes:

I'm writing and posting something every day for a bit, inspired by words and prompts provided by YOU.

This is #4. Today's word is "sleep talking" from @starryeyed911 Thanks, mads!

If you'd like to suggest a word or a prompt, feel free to leave it in the comments here, or add one over on twitter.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“Ughhhhh!” Christopher groans loudly from the backseat. 

Eddie frowns. Christopher has been extremely teenagery lately, but this feels like a stretch. Buck isn’t playing one of his “boring” podcasts, Eddie isn't playing his “embarrassing” music, and they just stopped for a bathroom and snack break not even 20 minutes ago.  

In fact, no one’s so much as said a word in 10 minutes. 

He looks to Buck, to see if he’s somehow doing something groan-worthy while driving, but he looks just as confused as Eddie. 

Eddie turns in his seat to gather more context, and finds Christopher passed out against the window. He appears to be… sleep-complaining? 

“Gross, Dad,” Christopher mumbles. “Ew.” 

Huh. Even in his kid’s dreams, he’s embarrassing him. Great.

He turns back in his seat and shrugs at Buck. He watches Buck’s gaze flick up to the rearview mirror, where he catches the sight of Christopher snoozing. He smiles softly. 

God, Eddie loves him. 

He loves that he insists on driving the longer stints even though Eddie pretends he doesn’t mind doing them (he hates doing them). He loves that he loves Christopher enough to listen to the Approved by Chris playlist for 8 hours on repeat. 

He loves him. 

Eddie considers changing the playlist, now that Chris isn’t awake to complain about it. But before he can decide whether or not to take the risk, Christopher pipes up again from the back. 

“BUCK!” He sleep-shouts. 

Buck jumps. The car very slightly swerves. 

“Stop kissing my dad.” 

Eddie chokes.

Buck gapes. 

Eddie turns in his seat to just really, really make sure that Christopher is actually asleep and not playing some kind of prank on them. His breathing is slow and steady, drool already staining his collar. Eddie knows what it looks like when his kid is pretending to be asleep. Unfortunately, he’s fully zonked.

This might be on him for coming out to his kid right before a road trip. 

“Uh…” Buck stammers. 

“He used to sleep-talk when he was really tired,” Eddie explains. “Just ignore him.” 

“Ugh,” Christopher groans again. “Dad. Embarrassing.” 

Eddie stares pointedly at the road ahead and prays for a pothole. 

“My dads,” Christopher mumbles. “Are getting married.” 

Eddie clears his throat. From the corner of his eye, he can see Buck’s knuckles tighten on the steering wheel. 

“I’m not a flower girl!” Christopher continues, annoyed. “I have no flowers.”

“Maybe we should wake him,” Buck suggests. “He seems, um. Distressed.” 

“Well, he would never be the flower girl,” Eddie points out. The kid is right to be annoyed. “He’d obviously be my best man. Jee would be the flower girl.” 

Buck chokes. “At…at your wedding?” 

“At our wedding,” Eddie corrects, eyes still trained on the road. 

Buck stares at him, mouth agape. 

“BUCK!” Christopher yells again. 

Buck jumps a second time. 

“You can’t wear purple. Dad is allergic.” 

Buck blinks. He opens and closes his mouth like a fish. 

“Can’t believe you’d try to kill me on our wedding day,” Eddie tuts. 

“No ring,” Christopher mumbles. “Potato.”

“You didn’t even get me a ring?” Eddie faux-gasps. “I’m worth a potato to you?” 

Buck gapes. “I would - - Eddie, I would get you a ring. I’d get you the best ring. He’s sabotaging me!” 

“Daddd,” Christopher groans. “His hair is noodles.”

“Whose hair is noodles??” Buck asks, hand shooting up to his own curly mop of hair. 

“Definitely you,” Eddie grins. “Look at it. It’s noodly.” 

“What??” Buck gasps. “Does everyone think my hair looks like noodles?” 

“YOU CAN’T EAT HIS NOODLE HAIR!” Christopher  cries urgently. “He’s getting married! He’s BALD!” 

“Yikes,” Eddie winces sympathetically. “Bald on your wedding day is a rough one.” 

“Oh my god,” Buck pouts. “You’re gonna leave me at the altar.” 

“DAD!” Christopher shouts. “Give. His. Noodles. Back.” 

They both gasp at the reveal. 

“You ate my noodle hair!” Buck accuses. “You’re sabotaging our wedding. Do you not want to marry me, Eddie? Huh? Is that it?” 

“Chimney,” Christopher murmurs. “Put him down. He is too small.” 

They look at each other in suspense. A new character enters the plot.

“Tiny,” Christopher mutters. “Ant Dad.”

Buck gasps. Eddie giggles. 

“Oh my god,” Buck breathes. “I’m marrying an ant.” 

“I’m marrying someone with noodles for hair,” Eddie reminds him. 

“You ate all my noodle hair. Now I’m bald.” 

“I’m an ant!” Eddie defends. “What did you want me to do?” 

“Oh!” Christopher says loudly. “Oh no.” 

“Oh no??” Buck repeats, enthralled. 

“Hmmm,” Christopher hums unhappily. 

“What’s happening?” Buck frowns. “Did someone stand on you? He should’ve let Chim pick you up!” 

“Tony is a fish,” Christopher sniffs. “And we’re out of rice.”

“Who’s Tony??” Buck asks, as if Eddie has any idea what’s going on right now. 

“Damp bananas,” Christopher sighs. “I’ll fly.” 

Eddie snorts. “It is not looking good for our wedding day,” he sighs. “Damp bananas have got to be a bad omen.” 

“He can fly, Eddie!” Buck reminds him. “He’s gonna fix it.” 

“My dad,” Christopher insists. “Is the gay ant.” 

Eddie chokes. He hasn’t quite managed to share that particular piece of information with Buck yet, but he’s glad Christopher seems to be…processing it.

This really is not how he was intending to come out, but it would be kind of funny. 

Before he can figure out how to say “well, he’s half right!”, Christopher barrels on.

“One noodle wig,” he demands. “Please.” 

“At least he’s polite,” Buck notes. 

Which is true. There is that. 

They both startle as Christopher snores loudly, chokes a little, then whispers hauntingly, “happy birthday.”

“Oh,” Eddie breathes. “What a plot twist.” 

“I don’t know,” Buck sighs. “I kind of think birthday weddings are tacky.”  

“Maybe it’s Tony’s birthday,” Eddie suggests. He doesn’t want Buck to think their wedding is tacky. “Good of him to come to our wedding on his birthday.”

Buck considers this. “It must be hard to travel when you’re a fish,” he agrees. 

“Seems like the kind of event you wouldn’t want to miss,” Eddie notes. “Lots happening.” 

Buck hums in agreement. 

They wait in silence for an embarrassingly long time, hoping for any additional details. 

Eventually, they hit a bump in the road that jostles the car. Christopher snorts and shifts in his sleep, but doesn’t say anything else. 

Eddie sighs. “I kind of wanted to know what happened,” he confesses. “That was way better than your podcasts.” 

“I think,” Buck says hesitantly. “I think we definitely got married.”

“Yeah?” 

“Mhm. Like, against all odds,” Buck shrugs. “I’d make sure no one stood on you. Christopher would come to the rescue with my noodle wig. Tony would be there, for some reason. Chris would fly in just in time to be the potato bearer and your best man.” 

“Wedding of the century,” Eddie chuckles. “I’d be the luckiest gay ant around.”

Buck snorts. “It does sound nice.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie confesses quietly. “It does.” 

It really, really does.

At the next stoplight, Eddie leans over the center console, grabs a startled Buck by the chin, and kisses him. 

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, mouths pressed together, but at some point, the car behind them honks.  

Buck pulls back, blinks at him, smiles, and leans back in. 

“Ugh. Gross, Dad,” Christopher groans. “Ew.” 

Eddie turns around in his seat to see Christopher blinking blearily, wiping drool from his chin. 

The car behind them honks again, and Buck gets back with the program, pressing his foot on the gas with a shellshocked little smile on his face. Eddie can’t help but lean over and press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Oh. Whoa,” Christopher frowns, looking between them. “I’m having crazy déjà vu right now.”

 

Notes:

My best friend had a dream once where The Rock kept talking about damp bananas.

Follow me on Twitter @palwritesfics if ya want!

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