Archive of Our Own

It begins with a pedicure.

Buck’s spending the day with Jee-Yun, mostly because he loves hanging out with his niece, and a little because he knows that Maddie and Chim will appreciate a day to themselves before the new baby arrives. And he figures that while he’s got the chance, he may as well make a whole day of it.

Jee’s been spending a lot of time with Hen and Karen, still as close with Mara as she was when they were living together, and Buck’s not jealous, of course, but he also kind of wants to flex a little. Remind Jee who her favourite uncle is.

Maddie looks at him like he’s biting off more than he can chew, when he outlines their plans for the day, but it’s fine.

They start at a little cafe where Jee enjoys a babyccino and some waffles, and from there it’s the zoo, Jee on his shoulders as they race between enclosures. Buck gets to tell her some fun facts about the animals, and learns a few new cool ones from the placards around, and each time Jee laughs it sends this proud little thrill through him.

Reminds Buck of the early years with Christopher. Before he grew into a teenager, all eye-rolls and sarcasm and tightly-held affection.

Buck still loves him like crazy, and he knows that beneath all the sass Chris still loves him, too, but they’ve got a different relationship now to what they had when Chris was seven and didn’t mind Buck holding his hand or reading him a bedtime story.

It’s his age, of course, but also Buck’s changing relationship with Eddie.

Chris had been happy for them, when they finally got their shit together. When Eddie came out as gay, and Buck eventually confessed his feelings, and to his utter relief, Eddie reciprocated.

Chris had even hugged Eddie, and then Buck, and shrugged all nonchalant when he said that Buck was basically already like a dad to him.

But they haven’t returned to those early years of hanging out — at the zoo, at the pier, playing video games all afternoon — and Buck tries not to get too wistful about the past, because the present is still pretty damn good.

Today is proof of that.

Because Jee’s four, and still loves the zoo, and loves when Buck’s silly and imitates the animals they see, and loves the toy elephant that Buck spends a small fortune on, and it makes him light up inside, to be able to spend this time with her.

After the zoo, they get some lunch, and share a milkshake, and Buck finds an old-school photo booth, and they take several photos together. Jee then leads him to another toy store, like she’s got a built in sensor for them, and Buck ends up buying her a train set, just hopes that Maddie does wring his neck for it.

They’re coming out from the store when Jee points to another down the shopping strip.

This one’s a nail salon, and Jee gives Buck her best impression of a very cute puppy when they’re outside, batting her eyelashes up at him.

A move she’s absolutely learnt from Maddie.

“I wanna paint my fingers like Mummy,” she says, and because Buck’s a sucker — he’s sure Maddie will tell him later — he only smiles, and opens the door.

The people working at the store are delighted by Jee — as they should be — and insist that she gets her fingers and toes done, and who’s Buck to say no to that? Jee picks out a soft purple for her fingers and a neon green for toes, and gets to sit in one of the big massage chairs, looking ridiculous and stupidly cute. Buck takes a photo, then goes to sit in the one beside her.

“Same for you?” The woman who’s setting up the station in front of Jee asks, and Buck’s brows shoot up.

“Oh, no,” he says, automatically, already shaking his head. For some reason, the question has his heart growing fast. “I’m good. This is just for Jee.”

Jee-Yun looks up at him, brows furrowing — even more like Maddie — and mouth drawing into a little pout. “Uncle Buck! You have to! I wanna match.”

Buck looks again at the bottle of green nail polish that Jee chose for her toes. It reminds him of the toxic waste you’d see in a cartoon, not that he’s about to tell her that. The purple is honestly much more his speed, except Buck has work the next day. It’s not something he’s ever had to consider, and he can’t quite recall if he’s noticed anyone else wearing nail polish while on shift before.

Regardless, Buck’s not sure how he’ll feel, having his nails painted. He knows that it’s something more men are embracing, but just the thought of it is doing something to his chest. Like it’s being twisted, and opened, and carved out. He doesn’t want to think about it.

“How about my toes?” He asks Jee, and she considers for a moment, then nods.

“Okay.”

“And can I do them the same purple as your fingers? Is that still matching?”

Thankfully, she agrees again, and the woman who suggested he join in smiles, and calls for one of her co-workers to come set up his station.

Buck puts his feet in the spa, and apologises for the callouses that had developed over the years of firefighting, and swallows when the lady opens up the bottle of lavender polish and paints the first layer on his toes.

But Jee is chatting beside him happily, and showing off her own nails, and so Buck pushes whatever this new, confusing feeling is deep down into his chest, and focuses on the brilliance that is his niece.

He drops Jee home to Maddie and Chim an hour later — crashing from the day, all fun and sugar and presents — and then goes to Eddie’s, because the Diaz household is his favourite place to be, and has been far longer than he and Eddie have been together.

Eddie’s reading on the couch, bathed in the soft afternoon sun, and Buck allows himself a moment just to watch him. Skin golden and glowing, strong, long lines where he’s stretched out, brows drawn in concentration. It still catches Buck, sometimes, that he actually gets this. Gets Eddie. This person who’s been his partner for years, who he never imagined could love him in all the ways that Buck realised he loved him.

Eddie looks up at him, smiles, and Buck exhales.

“Still alive?” Eddie asks, already putting his book down, reaching a hand out to Buck, and Buck comes and takes it. Settles into the space between Eddie’s thighs, and fits his head into the crook of Eddie’s neck.

It’s become his spot, over the past four months.

“She ran circles around me,” Buck says, though of course he’d never admit that to Maddie. “But we had lots of fun. Ended up at a nail salon.”

“What colour did she get?”

“Purple and green. The green was hideous, but she liked it.”

Eddie makes a soft noise of amusement, and Buck gives himself a moment to just…breathe. He considers moving past the moment, but …Buck will be sleeping here tonight. And they’re in a relationship. In love. Eddie’s obviously going to notice that Buck got his nails done, too, and will probably ask why Buck didn’t mention it, and that’ll lead to more questions that Buck doesn’t know how to answer.

So he swallows, ignores the way his throat protests, how his heart grows quick again, and says, “I got my toes done, too.”

“You did?”

Eddie sounds…normal. Like Buck’s confession isn’t anything scandalous.

Buck nods, and presses himself up onto Eddie’s chest. Breathes a sigh of relief that Eddie looks normal, too.

“Yeah.”

“Show me?”

Buck sits up, and pushes away the shyness that creeps in, when he goes to take his socks off. Reveals his toes, and the lavender polish that’s covering each nail. His heart swells when he sees them.

He chances a glance at Eddie, and his smile is something fond, and Buck’s not exactly sure what he was hoping for, but this at least isn’t bad.

Eddie looks up at him, cradles his face, and says, “Very pretty, baby.”

Then he’s leaning in to catch Buck’s mouth, kissing him, and Buck’s too busy focussing on the softness of Eddie’s lips, and the sweet taste of his tongue, and the way he drags Buck in to straddle his lap, to worry about his painted toes, and all the unexpected feelings they’ve brought.

But Eddie’s words whisper sweet and seductive in the back of his mind, when Buck tugs down Eddie’s sweats and his briefs, and kisses at his hip bone. When he wraps his hand around Eddie’s cock, and swirls his tongue around its head. When he sucks, and licks, and swallows every drop that Eddie has to offer.

Very pretty, baby.

Very pretty.

+

Buck tries not to think about it, except that nail polish apparently lasts quite a while.

At least the kind he got, with some LED lamp machine that alternated between each foot. He thinks he recalls one of the workers saying something about curing, which Buck had thought was a term only used for cheeses and diseases.

So every morning, he sees his nails, and feels a little thrill in his chest at the sight, that he’s not sure what to do with.

It’s the extent that he thinks about it, until a month later, when Chim’s quietly freaking out at the tail-end of a shift, after a call from Maddie.

He’d been planning to get the last part of a gift for her upcoming birthday after their shift, but Maddie’s call to say that Jee’s woken up with a fever and cough puts a halt in that plan. Jee can’t go to daycare, so Chim needs to head home straight away before Maddie can make it to her shift at the dispatch centre.

But Buck doesn’t have any plans, or a sick kid to look after, and he loves Maddie, and loves Chim, so it’s easy to offer to pick up the present on his behalf.

Chim’s profusely thankful, and Buck’s quietly pleased that he’s able to help.

He kisses Eddie at the end of the shift, assures him he doesn’t need company in the hellscape that is a shopping mall in LA, and swings by one that’s vaguely on his way home. Goes to one of those beauty stores that sells hundreds of varieties of the same product, and is immediately overwhelmed.

But thankfully Chim’s given him the name of the lipstick he wants — shade included — and so Buck just goes up to the first employee he sees, asks where he can find it.

It’s a guy probably in his early twenties, a tag that says FELIX - HE/HIM, and when they get to the shelf with the brand Buck’s asked for, he easily finds the lipstick.

“It’s one of our bestsellers,” Felix says, like he’s still trying to angle a sale, like Buck isn’t already a sure thing. And then he adds, “Do you want to try it first?”

Buck feels like he’s swallowed his own tongue, that same feeling that washed over him at the nail salon blooming in his chest again.

“Oh, um. It’s for my sister, actually.”

“Hm. Are you the same complexion?”

“I’m not sure. I think so?”

“I can try sampling a few on your forearm. Just to make sure you like the shade.”

Buck assumes that if Chim’s given him a specific shade to buy, it’s one that Maddie already owns and likes. But something in him is compelled to keep that to himself.

Felix has what looks like bright blue ink painted on his eyelids, clean lines that Buck’s sure have taken years of practice to perfect. Mascara that makes his eyelashes longer, and some gloss on his lips. He’s watching Buck openly.

It makes it easier than Buck expects, to say, “Yeah, that’d be great.”

Felix smiles, and takes Buck to a little station, leaves him seated on a swivel chair for a minute before bringing back five tubes of lipstick, all that same brand, all saying tester. He’s gentle when he takes Buck’s arm, and he doesn’t put the lipstick directly onto his skin, instead gets some brushes and applies them that way.

Five shades of pink line Buck’s arm, and Buck stares at them. Already he knows he doesn’t love two of them against his skin.

Felix apparently thinks the same, pointing them out. “Okay, definitely not these. They’re too warm for your skin tone.”

“I didn’t realise there were so many types of pinks,” Buck says, feeling a little lightheaded, and Felix just grins.

“There’s a whole world of colour out there,” he says, and somehow, it feels like an invitation. “I do think this one suits you best,” he adds, pointing to the second line of pink. “It’s the shade you gave me. I can put it on your lips, if you’d like?”

Buck swallows. His heart goes.

“Okay,” he says, and he can recognise that his voice is soft now, maybe a little hoarse, but Felix doesn’t comment.

Simply smiles, and uses that same gentle touch to move Buck’s jaw while he uses another brush to carefully apply the lipstick to Buck’s lips.

“Here,” he says, when he’s done, turning Buck around in his chair so that he can see himself in the mirror.

It’s a relatively subtle change, not an outrageously pigmented colour, that stands out stark in comparison to the rest of his bare face.

But it’s…pretty.

Soft, and sweet, like Buck’s been thoroughly kissed.

He looks at himself, and his chest does that thing again. Cracking, opening, expanding.

He likes it. Likes what’s being reflected back to him.

“Yeah,” he says, and it’s just as quiet as before. “I think she’ll like that.”

“Great,” Felix says, and there’s something knowing in the way he says it, something in his gaze that speaks to Buck — like he understands Buck more than he does himself. “I can ring you up at the counter.”

Buck nods, and then takes a makeup wipe, presses it over his mouth, the pink that was staining his lips now smudged on the otherwise bright white.

Felix is lingering, and Buck makes himself look up at him.

“I’ll get two.”

+

Buck gives ones to Chimney at their next shift, and hides the other at the bottom of his bathroom drawer. Pulls it out every time he gets out his aftershave or moisturiser.

Opens the tube and rolls up the stick and stares at the pink.

Puts it away again, hiding it under the spare bottles of hand soap and body wash.

Goes about his day like usual. Twenty-four hour shifts with the 118 where he uses his body to pull people out of crumpled up cars and burning buildings, where he rappels down cliff faces and helps lift downed trees off bleeding-out patients. Days off with Eddie, where he uses his body in entirely different ways. Ways where his strength and stamina serve other purposes, where his body becomes a vessel to both give and receive pleasure, where Eddie tells him, over and over, how hot he is, how strong, that he wants to sink his teeth into the flesh of Buck’s biceps, and sink his cock into Buck’s ass.

It’s two weeks of this, before Buck finally tries putting the lipstick on himself.

He’s just gotten home from Eddie’s place after two nights sharing a bed. It’s beginning to feel like their place, but that’s a whole other conversation Buck knows they need to have. Part of him wants to have moved in already — wanted to the moment they confessed their feelings — but he wants to do this thing with Eddie right. Wants this to be the last person he ever dates, and the last person he ever lives with.

And he’s not had the best luck, historically, when it comes to relationships and cohabitation.

So he goes home when he runs out of clothes, and has a shower to rinse off the fun he had with Eddie after they dropped Chris to school, and he’s standing in front of his mirror with a towel wrapped around his hips.

He moisturises his face, then his chest and arms. Drops the towel and does his belly and legs and ass.

Looks at himself in the mirror.

He’s moved beyond worrying about BMI and fat percentages and all the things that crowded his mind in the early years of being a firefighter. Likes the way he looks, in a broad sense, and is grateful for his body, for what it can do. Broad shoulders and muscled arms, a strong core with a trail of light hair that leads to what he knows is a pretty generously sized dick.

Firehose may have been embarrassing, but it wasn’t ever wrong.

He looks…masculine. Probably what a lot of people think of when they picture a firefighter.

Buck looks down.

His toes are still purple.

He puts away the moisturiser, and as has become his ritual over the past two weeks, pulls out the tube of lipstick. Rose to Fame it’s called, which Buck doesn’t really understand beyond its pun, but after reading the names of a bunch of products at the beauty store — Sweet Latte and Better than Sex and a shade of blush actually called Deep Throat — he doesn’t think there’s much logic to it.

He pulls off the lid and rolls up the tube, though not all the way this time. Just a little bit of pink to tease.

Buck remembers Maddie practicing makeup on him when he was a kid. Bright, glittery eyeshadows and pink glossy lips and butterfly clips in his hair. The picture of a little kid brother being used as a human barbie in the 90s.

Recalls seeing his mother putting on lipstick before church every Sunday, saying how it made her look her best.

Abby while she got ready for the day, a quick swipe of tinted lip balm while Buck watched lazily from his spot in her bed.

Taylor, telling him she’d always reapply before going on air, that she’d use red whenever it was a salacious story.

So Buck’s somewhat familiar with lip products, despite never having held an open tube of lipstick in his own hands, with the intention to apply it to himself.

And he knows you’re not supposed to have the whole stick up.

He leans closer to the mirror, and opens his mouth, dabs some of the lipstick to his bottom lip first. Goes slow, and watches as his mouth turns pink, more intense than its natural colour. Does his top lip, careful not to go outside of his lip line.

He rubs his lips together, because that’s something he’s seen people do before, and takes a step back. Takes in the full picture of his face, and then of his body.

The pink complements his birthmark, he realises with a startle to his heart.

Maybe even the colour his cock flushes when he grows hard.

The thought sends a rush of heady warmth through him.

Buck looks at himself for a long, long moment. Tries to put a name to the feeling that sits in his chest. What the slight tease of something feminine on his otherwise very masculine body is doing to him.

It reminds him of that first kiss, with Tommy.

And while Tommy was right that he was only ever going to be Buck’s first, Buck will always be grateful that he came to his house that day and kissed him.

Because Buck never felt like he was intentionally ignoring parts of himself, the first three or so decades of his life. He’d been oblivious, and Tommy kissing him felt like an invitation, an open door, one that Buck all of a sudden realised he wanted to walk through.

Eventually, that door had something in his mind clicking into place whenever he looked at Eddie, and thought about just how important he was to Buck. His heart swelling, and resettling in his chest, his entire being saying, Oh.

He wonders how long it would’ve taken, without that first step, realising that he was attracted to men.

This feels like something similar.

Buck doesn’t think that it’s something he’s been repressing his whole life. Can’t recall looking at himself after Maddie dolled him all up and feeling like this was truly him.

And he doesn’t feel this way now. Doesn’t think he’s seeing himself for the first time, or anything quite so significant.

But it’s still…important.

Not something he’d necessarily want all the time, but he does want it, all the same. Does like seeing himself this way. In the same way he likes that light blue sweater of his — the one that Eddie always says brings out his eyes — he likes this pink lipstick. Not something he’d wear everyday, but something he’d like to keep in his rotation.

Buck’s still watching himself in the mirror when his phone buzzes, and it makes him freeze, like he’s been caught doing something wrong.

He’s momentarily transported to a time where he rode a red bike and his mother became hysterical.

But he’s not doing anything wrong, and he hasn’t been caught doing…whatever this is. Putting on lipstick and staring at himself in the mirror.

Buck takes a breath, and releases it slowly. Tries to settle the sudden hammering of his heart.

He picks up his phone, smiles when he sees it’s Eddie. Miss you. Did you decide what to do today?

It’s something he didn’t expect from Eddie, when they first got together. The constant messaging. He remembers Eddie with Ana, with Marisol — getting frustrated when they were in his space too long, needing time apart. And while Eddie’s never been like that with Buck, he had wondered whether extending their relationship from friendship into something romantic would do that.

Apparently not.

Just showered, Buck responds. Need to get some groceries and Maddie asked if I wanted to get lunch.

Then he adds Miss you too, because it’s true, even if it’s only been an hour, and Eddie can’t think he’s being clingy, when he said it first.

Say hi to Maddie for me. Then, Come for dinner tonight?

Buck grins at the message, and makes a mental note to rethink his grocery list. He’s spending more and more nights at Eddie’s, which means less and less time cooking at his apartment.

They really do need to talk about it, even if just to agree that Buck should keep his own place.

He pushes that thought away, and types his response to Eddie.

I’ll be there.

Buck wipes the lipstick from his mouth, gets dressed, and heads to his local grocery store. Makes quick work of his list, adding an extra bag of the sweet and salty popcorn that Chris likes, in case it’s a rare Friday night he doesn’t already have plans. It’s a funny thing, realising a fourteen year old has a busier social calendar than you do.

He’s grabbing some deodorant when he sees the section of makeup products. Not as much as was in the beauty store, and based on the prices, probably not as high quality. But there’s still a decent range.

Foundation and concealer and something called contour, more lipstick, and blush and mascara and eyeliner. That must have been what Felix was wearing, Buck realises.

He stares at the products, fingers suddenly feeling antsy, and looks up and down the aisle. There are a few people, but they’re all busy with their own shopping. Nobody cares that Buck’s looking at makeup. If they paid him any mind at all, they’d probably assume he was getting something for a girlfriend, or a wife.

He looks between the products, and decides that mascara is the easiest to pick out. There are two colours, black and brown, and Buck remembers once Taylor telling him that she’d use brown on her lashes when she wanted something softer, subtler. Buck grabs a packet and throws it into his basket, then shuffles down the aisle. Gets brown eyeliner, too, one pencil and one liquid, because he doesn’t really know the difference, and they’re only ten dollars each. Adds a tube of lipgloss, and leaves before he can either put everything back, or add more to the pile.

He scans everything through the self checkout, adds his new finds to the bathroom drawer — company for the lone tube of lipstick — and goes to meet Maddie for lunch.

He’s almost nervous, when he sees her waiting for him. Wonders whether she’ll just look at him and know, like she always seemed to when he snuck an extra cookie after dinner as a kid.

But of course she doesn’t.

Maddie smiles at him like she always does, and ask how his day’s been so far, and he asks what fruit the baby is this week, and it’s normal.

Buck goes back to Eddie’s that evening, and Chris isn’t busy for once, and they manage to convince him that watching a new action movie with them is just as fun as playing video games with his friends online (although Buck’s quietly sure that it’s the popcorn that really pushes them into the winner’s column).

After, he and Eddie are laying together in bed, Buck telling Eddie about the approximate eight hours they spent apart that day, and it’s there, with his head resting on Eddie’s bare chest, Eddie’s hand running a lazy path up Buck’s back while Buck’s play with the dark sprinkle of hair that leads to Eddie’s dick — fingers itching to go further if it weren’t for the relatively early hour of the night and the knowledge that Chris will probably be awake for another hour or so — that he almost says it.

I tried on lipstick this morning. And it made me feel…pretty. Beautiful. Delicate. Something that had me buying more makeup today.

Is that weird?

But he doesn’t know that he’s ready to hear whatever Eddie’s response might be, so Buck swallows the words.

It’s far easier to kiss him instead, when Eddie voices that he really did miss Buck today, let the feeling of Eddie’s lips, whispering sweet murmurings of love and desire and commitment, against his mouth, his skin, and later, his cock, wash Buck’s anxieties away.

+

So it becomes a secret.

And like many things in his life, it becomes an obsession.

In a similar way that natural disasters of the 1900s and the lifecycle of the Australian green tree frog and the birth of civilisation in ancient Mesopotamia have drawn his very focused attention for periods of his life — days or weeks or even months — it becomes something Buck can’t stop thinking about.

And maybe the secrecy intensifies it, because where he can usually rant to a largely indulgent Eddie or Maddie or 118 about new facts he learns, now, he doesn’t have anyone to talk to.

So he watches YouTube videos in private, and learns about the history of makeup and more specifically, queer men wearing makeup, and practices his application techniques when he’s home alone.

He returns to that same beauty store, and buys some blush and an eyeshadow palette with golds and creams and bronzes. A sweet, floral perfume. Another lipstick, this one a deep red, which makes him feel like a femme fatale from an old black and white film, makes him wonder what he’d look like in a black evening gown and gloves to his elbows.

And it’s — well, Buck can recognise that it’s a lot.

It’d feel like a bigger omission, except that it’s not taking time away from any other parts of his life. He remains as committed to his work as ever, and accepts every invitation to hang out with the 118, and sees Maddie and Jee — and the new baby, once they’re born — as much as he can, and of course Eddie and Chris. He’s still sleeping at Eddie’s half the week, and it’s the same banter and bets and mindless conversation and ease as it’s always been, only now interspersed with a lot more (any) kissing and fucking.

This is just something he does in his free time, a few hours on a Wednesday afternoon where he puts on makeup, and then does his laundry. A spare twenty minutes to practice his winged liner, before he needs to go to work. Taking photos of himself in golden hour lighting, keeping them in a hidden album on his phone.

It’s all in his own time.

But it’s still a lot.

And as weeks turn to a month, and then two, and one tube of lipstick turns into enough makeup that he buys himself a separate bag to store it all, it feels more and more like he’s lying to Eddie.

Which is just — Buck doesn’t want that. Doesn’t like that.

It’s just that. Well, this whole thing has exposed something raw in Buck, a soft underbelly that he never knew he had.

And it brings back moments, in his life. Being six, his father telling him he was too old to cry, that it made things too difficult for his mother. Internalising that as something that he simply wasn’t meant to do, so much so that whenever that oppressive feeling batted against his ribcage, he’d resolve to deal with it in other ways. Go too fast down the street’s hill on his push bike, until that knot loosened in his chest, replaced by something more thrilling. Climb up the tallest tree and guess how many feet were between him and the ground. Hold his breath under water at the local swimming pool and count to thirty, then forty, then a minute, then two.

It never quite worked. He never quite learned how to hold back tears that stung his eyes.

Never quite learned how to feel less.

He was thirteen, when Maddie left, and the loss felt so expansive that sometimes Buck didn’t know how to breathe, like his pain was crushing his lungs, constricting their very ability to inflate. His parents telling him that Maddie was stupid for falling in love with the man she did, that she’d come to regret it.

Twenty one, when he left home after another argument and fresh waves of judgement from his parents, a Jeep and a broken promise as he tried to run away from his problems.

Twenty four, when he was told he couldn’t be a SEAL, not unless he toughened up first. Turned off his emotions. Stop caring the way he did — too much and too hard.

They’re things that Buck’s no longer ashamed of. Things he recognises are just part of him.

They’re also things that Eddie already knows about.

That, when he told Buck he loved him, he signed up for.

The nails, the makeup, the newfound desire…aren’t.

And Buck loves Eddie. More than he’s ever loved anyone in his life. In fact, he’s not sure he has loved anyone else before, or at least truly been in love with them, because what he feels for Eddie is entirely new. Eddie makes him burn, makes his heart feel too big for his chest, makes him feel impossibly safe, makes him wonder whether the universe conspired, just for the two of them to exist at the same time, in the same place.

Eddie is also sarcastic, and bitchy, and cynical at times. Things that Buck fucking delights in, and yet, there’s a small, tender part of him that wonders — worries — that this won’t be something that Eddie can accept about him. Or even if he could, that it would be something he’d…indulge, because he loves Buck.

And it might kill him, if that were the case.

He feels guilty even thinking it, because Eddie’s not — Eddie’s good, and he treats Buck like he’s something precious, someone deserving of every bit of love that exists in the world.

But this thing isn’t something Buck knows how to voice.

He tries in front of the mirror, one morning he’s at home, that first pink lipstick staining his mouth, a soft, shimmery gold on his eyelids, lashes thick with mascara.

He thinks about Eddie’s words, when Buck showed him his lavendar toes.

Polish he’s since had removed, and replaced with a burnt orange, another afternoon with Jee-Yun at the nail salon.

Very pretty, baby, Eddie said, before he kissed Buck slow and sweet, and Buck tries to make his mouth move around words that shouldn’t be so difficult to say —

I like feeling pretty.

I like wearing makeup.

I want to feel lace on my skin, stretching over my cock, my tits.

The words get stuck in his throat, even with no-one else around to hear.

He spends that evening at Eddie’s, is sitting at the dining table because Eddie’s insisted on cooking, and he’s telling Buck about catching up with Lena — who Buck is thankfully no longer jealous of — when his words catch in his mouth, and he looks at Buck with a quirked brow.

“What is it?” Buck asks, heart suddenly hammering in his chest, as Eddie comes to stand directly in front of him.

His hand goes to Buck’s jaw, a gentle grip he uses to turn Buck’s face this way and that, those stupidly gorgeous brown eyes flicking over.

“I thought there was something on your face,” Eddie says, voice curious, but not probing. Why would it be, when Eddie has no reason to suspect…anything. He shrugs, smiles. “Must have just been the light.”

He uses his position to lean in and catch Buck’s mouth in a quick, easy kiss, before continuing with his story, with dinner.

And Buck tries to listen, but he’s acutely aware of his heart, a hard beat against his ribcage, of his stomach tangling into an anxious knot.

He gives himself ten minutes before going to the bathroom, because he’d worry anything sooner would look suspicious. Leans in close to the mirror to inspect himself, just like Eddie did. And there it is, still in his lash line. A slight gold shimmer.

Buck had thought he’d been careful, taking everything off this morning. Obviously not enough.

His mind is quick to question: Did Eddie see? Did he notice? Does he know?

But surely he would’ve said something.

And even if he hadn’t, there’s no way he could’ve schooled his immediate reaction. Eddie’s a very expressive man.

Buck wets a tissue, and attends to the small remnant of eyeshadow, flushes the evidence down the toilet. Rejoins Eddie in the kitchen, still feeling — alert. Like his body is primed in a state of fight or flight.

But he manages to pull it together, enough to get through dinner, and ask Chris questions about his day at school, and offer some ideas about an upcoming history assignment.

By the time that Chris has gone back to his room to finish up some homework, Buck and Eddie on the couch watching a telenovela that Eddie pretends he’s only following for Abuela, Buck’s finally relaxed. It might have something to do with Eddie’s insistence on rubbing Buck’s feet. Another thing Buck hadn’t expected from their relationship: how tactile Eddie is, a simple intimacy that extends beyond sexual gratification.

Eddie is a toucher, a cuddler. He likes to sleep with his arm slung over Buck’s waist, his hand always settles at the nape of Buck’s neck, and he genuinely enjoys giving massages.

The fun kind, but also the relaxing kind.

The latter all they can get into right now, but Eddie is showing the same commitment to Buck’s feet that he would when massaging Buck’s ass, getting him soft and pliant and ready to take Eddie’s cock.

“I think I like this colour better,” he says, after what’s probably fifteen minutes of very generous attention, and Buck’s eyes had been half-closed, letting the sound of quick Spanish, Eddie’s quiet mutterings, wash over him, but this has him coming back to the room.

He looks up, finds Eddie studying his toes.

Buck swallows, but manages to say, “Yeah?”

Eddie glances up, a quick smile. “Uh-huh. I think because it matches that orange sweater you look so good in.”

Buck’s mouth ticks up, something soft, hopeful. Unknowingly, Eddie’s words are a balm to his chest, but then again, that’s how Eddie often is. Soothing Buck without even realising. Just by being himself.

“It’s a nice sweater,” Buck agrees, because he’s not sure what else to say.

“You should keep getting pedicures with Jee. I want to see all the colours. Pick my favourite.”

“You’d — you don’t think it’s weird?”

Eddie gives him a look, head tilted, brows furrowed. “Why would it be weird?”

Buck feels himself flush, heat rising up his neck, to his cheeks. It’s one of the things Eddie always says he loves about Buck. That he can see what Buck’s feeling, his skin growing pink whenever Eddie’s teasing him, kissing long, languid paths up his legs, sucking marks at his inner thigh. When he says something that surprises Buck, that first time he said good boy while fucking Buck’s mouth, when Buck just relaxed and took him, tears springing at his eyes as he worked his own cock in hand, so turned on it was kind of stupid. When it rushes through him with the same waves of pleasure, sweet ecstasy seeping through every inch of his flesh, because Eddie’s licked and fingered and fucked his ass to oblivion.

Now, Buck wishes he weren’t so transparent. That Eddie couldn’t read him quite so easily.

“You know. I’m — I’m a guy.”

“Yeah, you are,” Eddie says, slowly, carefully, and he lets go of Buck’s feet, pushes himself up to move to Buck’s side of the couch. Settles on top of him, a warm, solid weight that Buck craves. He looks down at Buck, and there’s something amused in the quirk of his lips. “Does that mean you can’t get your toes painted, sweetheart?”

“Well, no,” Buck says — breathes, really — hands instinctively going to Eddie’s hips, sliding over his ass. “I just — I wasn’t sure.”

Eddie chuckles, something fond about the sound, and he leans down to brush his mouth over Buck’s.

“Okay, well, let me reassure you then,” he says, kissing Buck again, slower and longer this time, and Buck can recognise that it’s the perfect opportunity to say something — anything — but once again, it’s far easier for him to simply kiss Eddie back.

They only stop when they hear Chris’s door opening, springing apart like they’re two teenagers caught making out by a parent.

Eddie laughs, thumb going to wipe Buck’s mouth — clean him up — before he resettles into a slightly more appropriate position on the couch.

They continue watching the telenovela, and it stays Buck’s secret.

+

It’s the following week, when one of their calls takes them to a sex shop.

Partially collapsed stairs and injuries of the couple who were unfortunately on them when they went down. The two women are thankfully broadly fine — aside for some scrapes and bruises, a broken wrist, and mild embarrassment — but they have to rig up a structure that gets the other customers from upstairs back to stable ground, and that takes a while.

It surprises Buck, how many people there are, perusing the aisles of a sex shop on a random weekday morning, but when he looks up the store he sees that it’s apparently an institution. Hundreds of five star ratings, reviews from as recent as three days ago. Buck’s not sure how he didn’t already know about the place, although he tends to prefer ordering online.

They get everyone down, Buck giving what he hopes is a reassuring smile to each person he helps onto safer ground, and once they’re all cleared, Hen and Chim and Eddie take charge to give them all a quick once over.

It frees Buck up to wander around the store.

The ground floor seems to be a soft entry into the world of sex paraphernalia, some costumes and lingerie, fluffy handcuffs, silky blindfolds. The signage indicates that toys are upstairs, but Buck can’t go up there for obvious reasons.

But he finds himself walking towards the lingerie section, skin prickling with warmth as he intentionally keeps his steps slow, casual — just in case anyone’s looking his way.

There’s a lot of leather and silk and lace, and most of it seems to be targeted towards women, but there are still several options for men. Red lace panties with room for a dick — real or otherwise — and ones with the front and back open, for easy access, and jockstraps with a pretty, pink bow that would sit just above your ass. A present, to be unwrapped.

The warmth prickling his skin sinks low into his belly, and Buck has to take a breath, has to turn away so that he can remind himself that he’s currently at work.

Eddie finds him a little while later, once everyone’s been cleared of any injuries, brushing past him quickly, lingering only so long as to say, low into his ear, “Let’s come back when we’re off-duty.”

His hand squeezes Buck’s hip briefly, and he throws a stupidly sexy smile over his shoulder as he follows Bobby out of the store.

It’s three deep breaths, before Buck can join them.

Later, in the early hours of the morning, tucked under the blanket on his bunk, Buck pulls up the store’s website on his phone. It’s already been updated to note that in-store shopping is indefinitely unavailable, but that online purchases will be fulfilled within their usual timeframes, and Buck’s, well…he’s curious. Wants to know what else is available, because the glimpse of lingerie he saw this morning had him picturing himself in a black set, red lips and fresh curls, and he wants it.

Wants it so much it’s kind of a problem, that he’s at the station.

He scrolls, excitement fluttering in his stomach when he adds different pieces to his cart.

He’s just completed the order — forking out extra for express delivery — when a message pops up from Eddie.

Are you jerking off under there?

Buck startles, pulls down the blanket he’d been hiding under. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust in the dark, but where Eddie had appeared sound asleep in the opposite bunk just fifteen minutes ago, he’s now looking straight at Buck, a smirk tugging at his mouth.

You wish, Buck texts back, because he’s not about to speak out loud, not when it’s two in the morning and others are still sleeping. Can’t sleep.

Eddie looks at him a long moment, then to his phone. Need to relax?

Buck swallows. They’re only a few feet apart. If they both reached out, they’d probably be able to hold hands. Although, Buck doesn’t think it’s his hand, that Eddie’s asking about right now.

At the station? He asks.

I know a spot.

Eddie gets out of bed quietly, and of course, Buck follows.

The spot turns out to be one of the supply closets, but Buck of course doesn’t mind. Not when Eddie tugs him in, keeps Buck’s back flush against his front, spits into his hand and pulls Buck’s cock from his briefs. Buck’s already half-hard, but he swells under Eddie’s touch, shivering when Eddie starts kissing at his neck, when he starts grinding against Buck’s ass, when his free hand slides up under Buck’s top and his fingers dig into Buck’s chest.

Buck imagines he’s wearing silk, and Eddie’s telling him how pretty his tits are, and comes embarrassingly fast.

+

His order arrives two days later.

It’s a plain package, but Buck’s been tracking it from the moment it was dispatched, so he knows exactly what to expect when he tears open the bag. Sees the two sets he ordered — black lace, red silk — the garters and the fishnet stockings, the pink, sheer babydoll dress.

It has a flame burning in his chest.

He doesn’t bother trying anything on for size, just cuts off all the tags and puts them straight into the wash. A twenty minute cycle, because he’s impatient. He hangs them on the line once they’re done, grateful for LA’s weather, knowing it won’t keep him waiting long, not when the fabric is so delicate and the sun is so warm.

Buck goes to the bathroom, pulls out his bag of secrets.

There’s a moment where he looks at is all, feels overwhelmed by choice. His skin is alight, buzzing, and his fingers itch as he looks between the red lipstick, the peachy blush, the glimmering highlighter. He wants to do everything at once, wants to see himself in all the combinations of makeup and lingerie, find what he likes best.

It reminds him of that first time with Eddie.

When Buck was overtaken by hot, aching want, and he became frantic, desperate. Torn between his desire to drop to his knees and swallow Eddie’s cock whole, taste salt and sweat and seed. To make out while they rubbed their dicks together, letting pre-come slicken them up, their joint hands working furiously. To have Eddie’s tongue tease his ass open, licking and kissing until Buck was sobbing onto a pillow, begging to be filled up, to be fucked.

Eddie had laughed at the time, familiar with how Buck could get, despite this new context. His smile adoring when he murmured against Buck’s mouth, “Baby, we’ve got time.”

Buck has to remind himself of that now. He takes a breath.

Picks up the red lipstick, and a darker lipliner.

Then, some black liquid eyeliner, and black mascara.

It’s taken practice, but he’s gotten pretty good with the winged look. Manages to get both eyes done cleanly, evenly, each with a small flick at the end.

He adds mascara, two coats to darken his eyes. Leans in close to the mirror to line his lips. Then he picks up the lipstick. It’s a deep red, the end of the stick softened with use, and Buck applies it with familiarity, watches as it ties everything together.

He shifts back, looks at himself. Swallows.

Fuck.

He looks so hot.

And he’s not even done.

He sprays perfume to his neck, his wrists.

Grabs the black, lacy bralette and panties from the line, and strips out of his clothes.

Slides the panties on first, the lace soft against his skin, his dick fitting nicely in its pouch. Then it’s the bra, stretching over his chest, the pecs he works hard for at the gym, on the job, that Eddie loves sucking on when he’s fucking Buck missionary.

Buck goes upstairs, to his full length mirror.

Arousal flooding hot and silky through his body when he sees himself.

Which is maybe a bit conceited, but —

His makeup has been done to perfection, simple but effective. The black eyeliner adding a weight to his fairer features, that’s complemented by the dark lingerie. His red lips an alluring touch of colour.

And then there’s the rest of him.

He’s still…himself. Tall, broad, strong. Hairy things, muscled arms, thick trunk. Masculine, in a traditional sense.

But it’s juxtaposed by the softness of lace, sitting on his hips, over his cock, covering his tits, an intricate pattern that feels so sweet against his skin.

All together — the makeup, the lingerie, the wanton look in this eyes — Buck thinks he looks…pretty. Lovely. Debauched. Fuckable.

He wants to see himself with his lipstick smudged and mascara running, wants to see himself ravished and ruined.

He feels himself growing hard at the thought. Eddie telling him he looks pretty, and then fucking him wild.

It’s almost enough to forget himself, to pick up his phone and message Eddie. Need you now.

But of course he can’t.

Buck still gets his phone, but it’s with the intention to capture this moment, so he can look back on it whenever he’s aching, itching, wanting. He goes back downstairs, finds the best lighting, because Eddie actually was right about that, way back when, despite Buck’s inability to appreciate it at the time.

And, well — Buck’s had a lot of practice taking photos of himself. Vanity shots at the gym, suggestive smirks for dating profiles, nudes when he’s feeling good. He knows how to work his angles.

He starts with selfies, gets several shots in different positions. Close ups of his makeup, face warm and glowing in the late morning sun. Of his chest, his hand gripping the flesh of his tits. Lower, angling up, palming his half-hard cock through the lace of his panties, the muscles of his stomach tensed up.

Turns the camera around and sets his phone to timer. More photos, more positions, his full body in one shot.

Pretty first, then teasing, then downright fucking lewd.

Het gets them all, goes to stretch out on his bed, and starts looking through each photo carefully. Dozens, moving them to his hidden album and favouriting his best, body warm all over, a hand resting over his cock, still craving attention.

He should put on the garters and fishnets next. They’d go perfectly with the black set. But he also wants to see himself in the pink babydoll dress. Feel the fabric soft against his thighs when he moves. He imagines sitting on top of Eddie, riding him hard, Eddie’s hands sliding beneath the dress to tighten around his hips, help him along.

His cock pulses, and he gives it a squeeze.

He should really wait. Get the other outfits on and draw it out. See himself pretty in all the different ways. But…maybe a quick release wouldn’t be so bad. Then he’d be able to concentrate better on the rest. Even if it means he makes a mess of his current getup, well, that’s what his washing machine is for.

Buck closes his eyes, runs a hand over himself, imagines Eddie’s there watching him, directing him.

Not too fast, sweetheart, he’d say, because he knows how excited Buck can get. Also knows how much Buck likes it when he’s worked up slow and teasing, until he’s panting, trembling, begging for more.

Can you play with your tits for me?

Buck nods at Eddie, gets his free hand on his chest. Smoothing them over the lace. He’s always had sensitive nipples, and right now, it plays into the fantasy. He swipes his thumb over, feels them grow hard, imagines that Eddie’s leaning down to take them in his mouth. Sucking slow, swirling his tongue, like it’s a tiny cock that he wants to lavish as much as he does Buck’s.

You look so pretty, Eddie says, and now he’s pulling Buck’s cock free from the lace, pumping him until he’s thick and hard and aching for more attention. He kisses up Buck’s neck, tongue warm and wet, before he whispers in Buck’s ear. Did you do all this for me?

“Yeah,” Buck says, and Eddie must like the answer, because he hums, works Buck’s cock a little faster. Buck leaks into Eddie’s hand, and Eddie uses it to ease his grip, adding his spit. “All for you, Eds.”

Good. Nobody else gets to see you like this, do they? You’re mine, baby. Only get pretty for me.

Only for you, Buck thinks, his mind going a little, as Eddie flicks his thumb over the head of his cock. God, he wants Eddie’s mouth, wants to see his lips stretched around his cock, wants to see Eddie lick him through lace.

I wanna see you in red, Eddie tells him, now. Red silk. And a pink dress. Can I, baby? Will you let me?

What a coincidence. Buck has exactly what Eddie wants.

Yeah, he thinks, breaths coming quick, his dick hot, aching. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Buck? Eddie prompts, and right — Eddie likes it when he responds out loud, likes it when he babbles. He doesn’t have to be quiet, not with Eddie.

“Yeah, Eds,” he murmurs, and he can hear how wanton he sounds. How desperate. “All for you. You can see it all.”

“Buck.”

God, Eddie’s voice, so low, so rough, so sweet.

Buck’s mind catches. There’s something…

“Buck.”

His name finally penetrates the headiness of the fantasy, and Buck’s eyes snap open.

Eddie — his Eddie, real Eddie — is standing at the top of the stairs, eyes wide and face flushed as he looks at Buck, still stretched out on the bed. Makeup, lingerie. Cock out.

There’s a moment where they’re suspended, neither of them moving or speaking, and Buck was so close, the sweet, liquid heat still thrumming through his body, even when embarrassment begins to swell, because fuck, this is bad this is bad —

Eddie opens his mouth and this is bad —

“Don’t you dare stop, baby,” Eddie says, and within one breath and the next he’s joining Buck on the bed, settling by Buck’s side and placing his hand over Buck’s, where it’s still wrapped around his cock, though no longer moving. “You were so close, weren’t you? I’m sorry I interrupted, I just didn’t want you coming without me.”

Buck chokes. “Eds…”

Eddie nuzzles his jaw. “You’re okay, sweetheart,” he murmurs, and when Buck meets his eyes — brown and gold, maybe what Sweet Latte is trying to achieve — there’s no judgement, no disgust. Surprise, yes, but also…desire. Hunger. The kind that can’t be manufactured. “I got you.”

Buck shudders, suddenly overwhelmed with aching, tender vulnerability. Like his chest has been carved open, but his heart continues a soft beat, because it doesn’t know what else to do. Exposed, but hopeful.

And…Eddie loves him. Eddie looks after him.

Buck knows this.

“I got you, Buck,” Eddie repeats, and Buck lets himself believe it.

Sinks into the warmth of Eddie’s body beside him, and lets him guide his hand to start working his cock again. Slow, to start, but not for long. Licks of pleasure that have Buck returning to his earlier ledge quickly, as Eddie begins moving their hands faster, begins laving at Buck’s neck, his jaw, murmuring soft encouragement, praise.

“That’s right, baby,” he says, sealing the words with another kiss, Buck’s throat this time. “So close, aren’t you? Must’ve been so worked up. Could’ve come just from watching you, but I’m selfish, you know that. Wanna feel you. Wanna see you. So fucking pretty, baby.”

Buck swallows, Eddie’s words stitching together this tender part of himself. I’m in love with you, too, he’d told Buck all those months ago, when Buck confessed feelings he wasn’t sure were reciprocated, a declaration that wrapped around his heart, squeezed it tight.

You deserve better, after a visit from his parents that reopened old wounds, that had Buck looking at himself and seeing parts — to be cut up this way and that, better served by someone else.

And Tell me what you learnt today and Come for dinner tonight? and I love waking up to you and Your mouth, I swear and Do you want more kids? and Remember to wear sunscreen and I’ve never felt like this before and So fucking pretty, baby.

It sinks sweet into his mind, threads into the pleasure that’s building, his cock pulsing now as each pull of his hand — their hands — pushes him closer and closer to release, and —

I’m pretty I’m pretty I’m pretty

— Buck comes with a soft whine, eyes fluttering closed as he spills into their hands, onto his belly, the warm pleasure from his cock swelling into something headier, something more intense, knowing that he came while looking like this, came with Eddie while looking like this.

When he opens his eyes, Eddie’s pressed up onto his elbows, looking down at Buck with something like awe.

And Buck wants to say something, because this feels too big not to address, because he can feel that their joint hands — still covered in his come — resting on the lace of his panties, because he wants Eddie to understand what this means, what it doesn’t.

Eddie beats him to it.

“Can I kiss you, baby?” He asks, and then he’s leaning in to brush their noses together — a breath away, but not closer, not yet. “I didn’t wanna to ruin all your hard work without asking, making yourself so nice for me.”

“Please,” Buck says — an answer, a request, a prayer — and he can recognise how needy he sounds, but he doesn’t care.

Eddie doesn’t either, of course.

He just smiles, leans in to catch Buck’s mouth in a sweet, drugging kiss.

Familiar after all these months, and yet something new, something thrilling, in the way Eddie sucks on his bottom lip, grazes his teeth and makes Buck whine. In the way he uses the opening to slide in his tongue, and tease him into something deeper, something hungrier. In the way he frees his hand from Buck’s, slides it around to Buck’s ass instead, fingers still sticky as they dig into flesh like he’s hoping he leaves prints.

It’s the knowledge that Eddie’s probably smudging his lipstick right now, that Eddie’s touching him through lace, that Eddie might like this — might want this — just as much as Buck does.

When he pulls back, he’s staring at Buck’s mouth, his own stained a little red now.

Despite Buck’s release, it sends a wave of renewed desire through him.

“Still so gorgeous,” Eddie murmurs, almost reverent in the way he says it, and Buck is liquid heat, is soft and tender, is wanting.

“I like it,” he says, a quiet admission that slips from this new place inside of his chest. “Feeling this way. Pretty.”

“’Course you do, baby,” Eddie says, brushing another lingering kiss to his lips. “How could you not, when you do it so well? Can I ask how long?”

“Months,” Buck admits, swallows hard around the confession. His heart hammers in his chest. “Since I got my toes done.”

Eddie makes a soft noise, shifting back up to look at Buck properly. His eyes are burning. The desire, arousal, that Buck feels simmering within himself, reflected in the expression on Eddie’s face. “You mean you’ve been looking this pretty for months, and I haven’t gotten to see?”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no,” Eddie says, pressing their mouths together again, like he can’t stop. Like he wants to kiss the red right off Buck’s lips. “Don’t apologise, baby. Just happy to see you so beautiful now. Must be hard work, though, huh, sweetheart? Making yourself so pretty. You must just need to be looked after. That right?”

Buck swallows, a shiver running down his spine. He can recognise what’s in the question, the offer of a dynamic that has his heart swelling within his chest.

It isn’t always Eddie leading. Sometimes it’s Buck, and sometimes it’s a push and pull, and sometimes it’s not. They both enjoy flexing different parts of themselves at times, and it depends on the day, how they end up slotting together. It never changes the fun they have, the connection, the pleasure.

Now, though, Buck wants this. Wants to be taken care of, and praised, and worshipped. Wants Eddie to tell him he’s pretty, that his red lips are divine, that he’s never seen someone look so good in lace.

Buck nods, and Eddie’s smile is relief, is wonder.

He ducks his head for one more kiss, before shifting off the bed. Only so far as to grab some tissues, get Buck cleaned up, find a bottle of lube. Get himself undressed.

He strips quickly, but it’s a show that still makes Buck fucking ache. Eddie’s strong, broad chest, that he once spent an entire afternoon sucking on, Eddie soft and indulgent as Buck watched with fascination, gold turning to pink turning to red turning to purple. Mine, each mark said, and it’s a declaration that Eddie soon returned to Buck’s inner thighs, nibbling, licking, sucking, until Buck was whining and whimpering, cock desperate for relief.

His stomach, thick and toned, that tenses up gorgeously whenever Buck laps wet, teasing paths over the outlines of his abs.

His strong legs, that he uses as leverage to fuck up into Buck, whenever Buck’s desperately close, a writhing mess that can’t quite get there all on his own. That wrap tight around Buck’s hips, when Buck’s the one fucking into him.

His cock, already half-hard, flushed and gorgeous and veined, perfectly thick.

Buck would know that cock blind-folded and gagging on it.

He wants it inside of him.

From the way Eddie’s looking at him when he climbs back onto bed, slotting himself right between Buck’s thighs — and, oh, warm, hard, delicious — it’s a desire that’s shared.

“Can’t get over how pretty you are, sweetheart,” Eddie says, pressing a soft kiss to Buck’s jaw, something delicate, that has Buck shivering. “And it’s all for me, isn’t it? That’s what you said when you were fucking yourself. You said it’s all for me.”

“It is,” Buck says, promises, sighing when Eddie’s mouth brushes to the corner of his own. “Only for you, Eds.”

“Yeah, ‘course it is. Your lips. What colour are they?”

“I think it’s called Centre of Attention,” Buck says, like he doesn’t know, like he hasn’t read the name on the bottom of the tube every day since he bought it.

Eddie huffs a laugh, leans in to finally kiss him on the mouth now, though close-mouthed, still teasing. “Why doesn’t that surprise me? And this is for me, too?” He adds, his finger sliding under the strap of Buck’s bra, a light, teasing touch. “Your pretty bra?”

Buck nods, swallows before he offers, “For you. For my tits.”

Eddie makes a noise, his eyes gleaming. “Your tits,” he echoes, something like wonder in his voice, though — headier. Like Buck’s just offered him something he wasn’t expecting to like so much. “Of course, baby. Your pretty tits.”

“I’m not — I’m still a man,” Buck says, because this is the thing he didn’t want Eddie to misunderstand, about this part of himself he’s discovered. “I’m still me.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I know,” Eddie says, hand shifting to Buck’s chest, thumb circling his nipple through the lace. A soft hum of pleasure, that has it peaking under Eddie’s touch, Eddie watching with fascination, like this is new — like he didn’t discover Buck’s reaction to having his nipples played with on their second date. Eddie returns his gaze back to Buck, and it’s a flash of hot desire, singular want, before he’s saying — rough, teasing, utter adoration,“You’re just a man with perfect tits.”

Then he’s kissing Buck again, and Buck’s whimpering as he meets Eddie’s hunger. This time, Eddie gives Buck his tongue, an eager rhythm that he matches with the delicious grind of his hips. Their cocks drag together, Buck’s still half covered by his panties, and there’s something about that, that sends a dazzling thrill through him. He’s already growing hard again, and he feels drunk with want, with arousal, as Eddie’s fingers grasp the flesh of his tits, as he shifts his mouth to Buck’s neck. Licks and nips and laves and kisses, a sweet path down until he’s nuzzling at Buck’s chest.

“Later, I’m gonna fuck these pretty tits, baby,” he murmurs, tugging the lace of the bra down to swirl his tongue around Buck’s nipple, sucking it into his mouth with a low moan. “Push them together, feel them around my cock. Who knew how many ways I could fuck you? Always surprising me, sweetheart.”

Buck whines, cock pulsing as he imagines it. Eddie straddling his torso, and pressing his tits together. Lube easing the slide as he fucks into Buck, Buck keeping his mouth open, his tongue out, to catch the tip of Eddie’s cock on every upstroke.

“I want it,” he says, rutting up into Eddie, searching for relief. His fingers tangle in Eddie’s hair. “I want it, Eds. Please.”

“Later,” Eddie promises, voice deliciously rough, mouth returning to Buck’s throat while a hand slides down his stomach, slow and teasing. He reaches into Buck’s panties, wraps a hand around the base of his thickening cock. “Taking care of my baby first. This your gorgeous cock?”

Buck nods, a breath shuddering out of him. “Yeah, yes.”

Eddie hums, giving him a squeeze before his hand travels further. A finger that finds Buck’s hole, presses gently. “How about this, sweetheart?”

Buck blinks, heart crackling with something new and elating, when Eddie shifts back to look at him. An invitation that makes him feel like he’s unravelling. He didn’t know, until this point, how far this desire within him stretched, and there’s a thought, a little crazed, that runs through his mind.

How did I get here? Painted toes to pussy.

But he’s here now, and he wants, with an intensity that floods him.

“My cunt,” Buck confesses, feeling an unexpected pressure at his eyes, and when Eddie smiles down at him, it’s soft, it’s wicked, it’s devoted. It’s the best smile Buck’s ever seen.

“Yeah, your cunt,” Eddie agrees, kissing him again. Slow and deep and filthy with tongue. “Gonna get so wet for me, aren’t you, baby?”

“Soaked, Eds.”

“Fuck. Wanna keep kissing you, but how can I resist that? Been so long since I tasted pussy.”

Buck whines, wonders whether he’s gone to heaven. It shouldn’t be surprising, how easily Eddie’s picked up the words of praise, of desire, that are setting him alight in this new way, and yet Buck feels struck by it. It sinks into the warmth of his skin, into the bone-deep love he holds for Eddie, into the intoxicating thrum of arousal that’s stretched throughout his body.

“Please, Eds,” he says, canting his hips up, an attempt to give Eddie better access. “Want you so much.”

“Got you, sweetheart. I got you.”

It’s one final kiss that leaves Buck panting, wanting, aching, before Eddie presses himself onto his knees. Buck watches, entranced, as Eddie curls his fingers around the lace at his hips, dragging his panties down his legs. Eddie’s eyes are blown dark as he brings the scrap of fabric to his nose, inhales deeply.

“Don’t know what’s sweeter, baby,” he says, low and teasing. “Your perfume or your come.”

Buck shudders. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, we’ll get to that,” Eddie promises, settling at the foot of the bed, and where he started top to bottom earlier, now he’s going bottom to top. Mouth soft against Buck’s ankle, breath warm, as he begins a slow, teasing path back up Buck’s body.

His hands smooth up Buck’s legs, fingers digging into the muscled flesh of his thighs to keep him nice and open, and it’s a gentler thrum of anticipation now, that has Buck sighing, whining, whimpering. Buck touches his tits, plays with his nipples, pinches and flicks as Eddie licks and sucks. His cock pulses the closer Eddie gets to his cunt, and as soon as he’s within reach, Buck’s shifting a hand to tangle in Eddie’s hair, tightening his grip enough to make Eddie grunt.

It’s a tether Buck needs, as Eddie presses his thighs up and apart, spreads him open.

As Eddie licks the tight opening of his cunt, warm and wet, teasing it until Buck’s sighing, relaxing.

Eddie eats Buck’s pussy like a man starved: kissing, licking, feasting. He sucks at Buck’s balls, then goes back to his cunt, and there’s a snap of a bottle, the slick feeling of fingers and a tongue, alternating. Buck’s worked soft, pliant, open, a hazy sort of pleasure blooming, so sweet that he can’t help the needy sounds that fall from his lips. More and yes and Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, when Eddie presses a finger into his cunt, finds that impossible, electrifying spot.

“There you go,” Eddie murmurs, spitting at Buck’s entrance as he slides in another finger, like he wants it to be filled with everything, by the end — lube and spit and come, all mixed together. “So tight for me, baby. So wet. Gonna feel your pretty pussy coming on my fingers, aren’t I?”

Buck nods, whining as Eddie begins fucking him, still licking eagerly, like he can’t help but feel and taste. He adds a third finger, a perfect stretch to get Buck ready for his cock, and it’s a warm unfurling of pleasure, pulses from each stroke against his prostate rolling one into another, swelling deliciously at his core.

“So good,” Buck says, breaths coming quicker now, feeling himself getting closer and closer. He wraps a hand around his cock, thick and hard now, gives it a stroke for relief. “Eds, fuck. Please, please. Your mouth, need it. I need it.”

“Yeah, baby, ‘course,” Eddie says, his fingers continuing to work his cunt, while his mouth shifts up, lapping at his balls, then at the length of his dick, nosing Buck’s hand away. “Anything for you. Such a gorgeous cock, sweetheart. Pretty and pink, so fucking hard for me.”

Eddie seals his worship with a kiss, wrapping his lips around the slick head of Buck’s cock and sucking gently. It’s velvet heat, it’s the perfect mouth, it’s barely a minute of focused attention — Eddie’s fingers continuing to fuck Buck’s cunt, tongue swirling warm and perfect on his cock — before the tension curling tighter and tighter within him snaps, and Buck’s flooded with pleasure.

“Fuck, Eds,” he whines, body flushing with intoxicating warmth as he comes. “So good, so good, so good.”

Eddie moans filthy around him, working him through and draining every last drop from his cock. He only slides off once Buck’s body goes slack beneath him, fingers easing from his cunt, and then he’s shifting up Buck’s body again, stealing his breath before he even manages to get it back.

Buck kisses back the best he can, but it’s a lot, when the sweetness of relief is still stretched through every inch of him, when he can taste himself on Eddie’s tongue — heady, salty, which makes him feel all kinds of wrecked, because it’s been a while since he tasted pussy, too — when the fat head of Eddie’s cock bumps against his entrance, worked open and greedy for him.

When Eddie pulls back, his mouth is glistening, even redder, stained by hunger and arousal, and in his gaze, there’s a devotion that Buck feels all over, that could make him sob, if he looked at it too long.

“Ready for me, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, and his thumb is running a gentle path down the curve of Buck’s cheek, like Buck’s something precious to him. “Ready for my cock?”

“Yeah,” Buck breathes, feeling himself clench, like he’s trying to drag Eddie into him. His legs wrap around Eddie’s hips. “I am. So empty without you, Eds.”

“Fuck. What did I do to deserve you, baby?”

It’s a question with no expectation of an answer, but Buck gives one anyway.

“You’re you,” he says, and there’s something about the words, that take him back to that day in Eddie’s kitchen, uncertain and scared but absolutely brimming, his love having grown too large to keep to himself any longer.

I love you, he’d told Eddie, the soft morning light filtering in after another night spent on his couch. He’d been making breakfast, and Eddie had been making coffee, and when he pressed a mug into Buck’s waiting hands, a sleepy smile teasing his mouth, messy hair that Buck wanted to use to tug him in, to kiss him, it came to him far more easily than Buck had thought possible. I’m in love with you.

Now, Eddie smiles, and kisses him again, and presses his hips forward.

It’s a sweet burn, Buck’s cunt opening as Eddie slides into him, slow and easing.

“So good for me,” Eddie murmurs quietly, eyes filled with dark reverence. “Taking me so well. That’s it, baby. So, so pretty. Good girl.”

Buck’s body liquifies, and Eddie bottoms out.

“Fuck,” Buck says, and it’s a shuddering breath, good girl wrapping silky around his skin, as soft as the lace. His hands slide up over Eddie’s shoulders, his skin warm and damp with sweat. “Eds…”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, a dragging stroke as he pulls out and fucks back in. “I know, baby. I got you.”

He does it again, the head of his cock bumping sweet into Buck’s cunt, and Buck melts, knows he won’t take long, not when Eddie settles into something deep and building, that has Buck’s heart ratcheting up. Not when Eddie’s gaze burns hot on his skin, and the hand he’s not using to hold himself up slides to grab at his tits, still covered by his bra.

Not when Eddie starts speaking agin, this new reverence, that Buck never knew he wanted, never knew he craved to hear —

“Everything about you so pretty, baby,” Eddie says, and Buck preens, flushes, presses the heels of his feet against Eddie’s ass. “Bluest eyes I’ve ever seen, and your sweet, red mouth all messy. I wanna clean you up and fuck your mouth, see those gorgeous lips stretched around me.”

“Yeah,” Buck agrees, nodding, that frenzied feeling returning, pleasure and arousal and desire all swirling together. “Want that, Eds.”

“‘Course you do, sweetheart. Gonna get you in another outfit. Know you’ve gotta have more. Fuck, never seen anyone wear a bra and panties so well. You know that, baby? God, you’re so fucking pretty.”

Buck’s cock pulses, and Eddie hums, shifting the hand from Buck’s tits to wrap around it instead, still mostly soft. Not stroking yet, just a firm, present grip. He picks up his pace.

“Yeah, feel so good around me, baby. So tight and wet. Fuck. How lucky am I, my pretty girl giving me a cunt and a cock to play with?”

“Eddie…”

“Oh, yeah, such a good girl. You’re gonna lose it, aren’t you? Gonna come so hard on my cock. Fucking love it, don’t you? Love being my girl.”

Buck shudders, whining as those words wash through him.

He’s got painted nails, he’s wearing lipstick and a lace bra.

He’s Eddie’s girl.

Buck basks in the knowledge, eyes fluttering closed as things begin to unravel. Eddie fucks him faster, deeper, and Buck’s fingers dig into the solid flesh of his shoulders, while Eddie’s hand starts slowly stroking. Buck’s cock swells again under his touch, a little pathetic after its recent releases, but his cunt is aching, craving. It builds, and it’s drugging, expansive. Warm pleasure as the world shrinks to the size of Buck’s bed, to the points where they’re joined, until all there is, is Eddie.

Eddie’s cock hard and perfect and delicious in his pussy. His thumb teasing the slit of Buck’s cock, leaking into his grip. His voice, telling Buck that he’s pretty, gorgeous, beautiful, that he’s the sweetest thing Eddie’s ever seen and felt and tasted.

Buck’s dragging him in, when he finally goes.

Sucking on Eddie’s eager tongue as he comes hard and sweet, whimpering as Eddie fucks him through the pleasure with his perfect cock. Ecstasy washes through his body, heady, heavenly, and it’s almost too much, when Eddie takes the opportunity to begin working Buck’s cock properly again, with intention.

“Fuck,” Buck sobs, breaths shuddering right out of him when he spills into Eddie’s hand again — just a little now, milked dry for the third time in barely an hour. He’s alight, he’s panting, he’s ruined. “Eddie, Eddie, Eds…”

“That’s it, baby. You’re mine, aren’t you? Pretty girl is all mine.”

“I am, I am. Wanna feel you. Come in me, please. Fill my pussy.”

“Fuck. Yeah, yeah.”

Eddie presses himself back up, hips snapping hard and desperate as he uses Buck’s cunt to get himself there, and Buck’s still spent, mind hazy and body warm and overwhelmed with release, but he’s still babbling encouragement, and adoration, and gratitude, still running his hands over Eddie’s chest, his shoulders, any part of his body he can get his hands to.

Eddie’s mouth is pressed against Buck’s wrist when he comes, buried deep in his cunt. He’s gorgeous and brilliant, his face relaxing into something sweet, and Buck loves him like this, in these moments where he’s completely soft and unburdened, where he lets himself go.

He pulls out after a long moment, and Buck shivers when he feels the come that’s leaking from his cunt.

He’s got half a mind to ask Eddie to find the plug he’s got in his bedside table, keep him hot and sticky, but more than that he just wants Eddie close, immediately.

Buck tugs him down, wrapping his arms tight when Eddie collapses onto his chest, breath soft and warm against his neck, and it’s several long minutes like that, fitting together in that perfect way they always manage to find, as they come down from their release, come back to themselves.

“Thank you,” Buck says eventually, a barely-there whisper that has his heart swelling. “I never imagined…”

“I told you I’ve got you, Buck,” Eddie says, shifting back only far enough to meet Buck’s gaze, and it’s that same wonder, and devotion, and love as earlier. Eddie smiles, and rubs a thumb over Buck’s bottom lip, gentle. “Always.”

“It’s not — all the time. I still want to be us, how we’ve been going. It’s just…”

“It’s something we can have fun with, when you feel like being my girl.”

Buck nods, relief swelling in his chest. Of course Eddie understands.

“I love you,” he says, and Eddie smiles again, leaning in to kiss him, something soft and tender.

“I love you, too, baby. So much. It’s actually — why I came over.”

Buck blinks, and oh. Yes. He’d been so immersed in this fantasy come to life, that he’d forgotten that by virtue of being caught in the position he was, Eddie had surprised him. They’d had plans for dinner, but Buck was supposed to be going to his house, given it’s a school night. Not the other way around.

“You came over to tell me you loved me?”

Eddie smiles, and Buck feels its warmth all the way to his bones. “Not exactly,” he says, fingers gentle as he runs them through Buck’s curls. “I — I was home, alone, just counting down the hours til Chris would be back from school, and you’d be coming over for dinner. And it just made me think. Why are we spending our days off in different places?”

Buck swallows, his heart melting into something soft and hopeful. “You want to spend our days off…not in different places?”

Eddie huffs a laugh, gives him that look, like he’s being purposefully difficult. “I want you to move in with me, Buck. Or, I want to talk about it. See if you’re ready.”

“And this was a conversation that couldn’t wait until dinner?”

“I’m sick of waiting for my future with you. Think we waited long enough.”

“Eds…”

“You can think about it, of course. I don’t mean to rush y—“

Buck leans up, cutting him off, and it’s love, on Eddie’s tongue, he knows it.

When he pulls back, Eddie’s watching him, a hopeful glint shining in his eyes.

“I want to live with you,” Buck says, and it’s easy to speak the words, when they’ve been sitting there inside of him for months. “I want it so much, Eds.”

“Oh. Good. Yeah, that’s…what I was hoping you’d say. That’s what Chris told me you’d say.”

Buck laughs, and Eddie’s cheeks grow pink.

“You might regret it, when you see all the makeup I’ve accumulated. Might need to rearrange some things in your bathroom.”

“Nah, I won’t,” Eddie says, like he won’t let Buck’s joke slide without setting the narrative straight. He knows how Buck’s mind can operate, when he’s not at his best. “We’ll make it work. Get another set of drawers for all your clothes. A little section for your lingerie. You’ve got more, don’t you?”

“I may have ordered a few more things,” Buck admits, and when Eddie groans, it’s a noise that tells Buck that they’ll be spending the next few hours close to this bed. “You really liked it that much?”

Eddie gives him that look again. “Baby, if it wasn’t already obvious, I’m pretty into it.”

Buck nods, draws his bottom lip between his teeth, watches as Eddie tracks the movement. “And if I…want to put on makeup sometimes? Out in public. Not just for sex?”

“Then I’ll hold your hand like I always do, and try to resist ruining your lipstick when I kiss you.”

Buck laughs, and Eddie leans down to taste it, and this lipstick right now, he doesn’t seem too bothered about ruining.

+

The next time Buck goes to the nail salon, it’s with Jee-Yun and Eddie.

Eddie suggests that Buck gets one aptly named Pretty in Pink, while he gets a lovely deep green, and Jee a sunny yellow.

Their next day off, Buck puts on the pink, sheer babydoll dress, and that first pink lipstick.

Eddie shows Buck all the ways that he loves it, and him.