[Honestly, the idea of asking Cisco to be a Thawne had never even crossed Eddie's mind. Out of both their names, the one that both of them would rather be rid of, after all, is Thawne. And Cisco understands that, it seems, immediately, not that Eddie had thought he wouldn't - they know each other, they know each others' pasts and the ways those pasts have affected each other. It's so easy, with the two of them, to simply accommodate each other's sore spots and trauma without even thinking about it.
Cisco is doing it now, when he simply smiles and says that Eddie Ramon sounds great. Eddie can't help but grin at him, reaching out to kiss him again.]
Right? Eddie Ramon. I really like it.
[For a while, he's quiet, just pressing his forehead against Cisco's and basking in this perfect moment, the perfect way they're sitting here under a tree with glasses of champagne, engaged, rings on their fingers. Together. A unit. A partnership.
And then Cisco starts talking again, his voice quiet and serious and sincere, saying that if Eddie doesn't want kids, he gets it, that he's okay with it, that Eddie is all he needs. For a moment, Eddie feels his stomach clench, his throat go tight, his eyes sting and tears well up under his eyelashes, and he's not sure if it's a sudden rush of grief, or relief at Cisco understanding, or some combination of both. Exhaling shakily, he lifts a hand to rub at his face and laughs in a shaky, sad way.]
That's the thing. I want kids, really bad. I always have. I'm just...you know, I'm scared.
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Cisco is doing it now, when he simply smiles and says that Eddie Ramon sounds great. Eddie can't help but grin at him, reaching out to kiss him again.]
Right? Eddie Ramon. I really like it.
[For a while, he's quiet, just pressing his forehead against Cisco's and basking in this perfect moment, the perfect way they're sitting here under a tree with glasses of champagne, engaged, rings on their fingers. Together. A unit. A partnership.
And then Cisco starts talking again, his voice quiet and serious and sincere, saying that if Eddie doesn't want kids, he gets it, that he's okay with it, that Eddie is all he needs. For a moment, Eddie feels his stomach clench, his throat go tight, his eyes sting and tears well up under his eyelashes, and he's not sure if it's a sudden rush of grief, or relief at Cisco understanding, or some combination of both. Exhaling shakily, he lifts a hand to rub at his face and laughs in a shaky, sad way.]
That's the thing. I want kids, really bad. I always have. I'm just...you know, I'm scared.