Archive of Our Own

It’s been two full weeks since they started sleeping together. Well, it’s been two weeks since Buck started fucking Eddie. It’s—complicated. They have an arrangement, a very simple arrangement. Eddie doesn’t have much experience with men, seeing as he just came out, and Buck doesn’t have much experience topping guys. It seemed like a win/win situation for them to explore together. Platonically. It's a pretty great arrangement.

Especially since it means getting to watch the hottest man he’s ever known splayed out on the sheets, thick silicone sheathed inside him as he moans into the bedding. They’re trying, with great dedication, to find which toy Eddie likes the most, so he can buy it for himself. Eddie seems reluctant about the last part—never the type to seek out self-love and self-care—but Buck is determined. Is even willing to buy the damn thing for him if it means he’ll have something to practice with when he’s done letting Buck rail him within an inch of his life.

Which is what he’s doing now. Which is what he’s really, really good at, and only getting better.

They’re using a dark purple toy now, one with thick veins and a fun curve, and Eddie is trembling beneath him, borderline speechless at how good it feels. Buck’s taken this one before, just by himself, and enjoyed the hell out of that curve, even if his anatomy is a little different.

Eddie, however, has yet to experience every feature of this specific toy. And without that, how is he supposed to make an informed decision?

Panting, Buck slides in to the hilt, grinding in deep as he squeezes Eddie’s hips. “You wanna see the best part?”

Eddie makes a keening noise that sounds vaguely affirmative, his head nodding against the pillows as Buck fills him.

“He vibrates,” Buck grins, grabbing the little controller tucked into the elastic at his hip. He’s not going to turn it on yet, though.

Against the bedding, Eddie lets out a wrecked whine. Fuck. Buck wants to hear it more. Needs to. He finds himself suddenly distracted, struggling to keep his pace steady and relentless just the way Eddie likes. He drives in deep, filling Eddie with all eight inches of the toy, staring at the back of Eddie’s neck that’s pink and flushed.

“Feel good, Eddie?”

Fingers tightening in the sheets, Eddie nods. “F-Fucking—you know it does. Just—”

Eddie’s sentence dissolves into heavy breathing and soft, rhythmic uh, uh, uh noises. Buck, unfortunately for Eddie, sees this as an opening.

Buck drops the controller, letting it fall onto the sheets, and grabs both of Eddie’s hips. His thumbs dip into the dimples at the base of Eddie’s back as he presses down with an iron-firm grip, watching Eddie tremble beneath him. “What? I know what?”

“Je—Jesus Christ,” Eddie hisses, spine arching deeper, his ass pushing further back against Buck’s strap.

“I know Jesus Christ?” Buck huffs a teasing laugh, his voice dropping low. “I mean, not personally.”

Groaning, Eddie grabs a throw pillow and tosses it back vaguely in Buck’s direction. It flies right past him, thudding against the wall.

“Nice aim,” Buck breathes out, eyes dragging over the perfect, sweaty expanse of Eddie’s back. His gaze lingers where Eddie’s hole is stretched pink and wet around the thick base of his cock.

“Fucking—” Eddie whimpers, his voice suddenly wet. “Buck, come on. Please.”

Buck doesn’t relent. He drives into him, putting the full strength of his body behind every thrust, making Eddie feel every inch, every vein, every single part of the toy. He needs the full experience. He needs—

“C’mon, Eddie,” Buck urges, voice dripping with desperation, it always is when they do this. “Ask for it.”

Hips snapping forward, the silicone drags against every little sensitive spot inside Eddie, filling him just right. Eddie’s breath hitches around a moan, his whole body shuddering. “Fuck, turn it on. Turn it on.”

“There it is,” Buck murmurs, body alight with satisfaction. Without missing a beat, he grabs the controller again, thumb hovering over the button. The words so good for me sit heavy on his tongue, begging to slip free. He looks down at Eddie—spread out and stretched around his cock, lost in pleasure amongst Buck’s sheets. Eddie, who is just his friend. Just his best friend. Just… experimenting. Trying things out.

It doesn’t mean anything, his brain whispers, taunting and cruel. You could be anyone. You’re just a body, just a toy, just—

Buck swallows thickly, shaking the thought from his head. He presses the button, and a low, steady vibration hums to life inside Eddie.

The reaction is instant: Eddie’s back bows hard, a sharp cry tearing from his throat as his hands abandon the sheets, one snapping back and finding Buck’s wrist, fingers encircling it. “Oh my God—fuck!”

The vibrations through the toy press against Buck’s own dick, heating his core. Bravely, he ignores this, focused on grinding his hips in teasing little circles and letting Eddie feel every hum of the toy, every inch of it, too.

“F-Fuck,” Buck exhales, grabbing a handful of the plush muscle of Eddie’s ass and squeezing. He wants to slap his hand down on it, to watch it jiggle with the motion, to hear the noise Eddie makes, but it’s not— it’s not part of their deal.

Buck is already teetering at the edge every time of overstepping, the line getting thinner and thinner as he tightropes across it. He’s terrified, unbelievably so, that his desire will be evident, that his want will translate through the placement of his hands, or the tremble of his voice.

“Buck,” Eddie pants, arm trembling as he lifts himself. “F-Flip, fuck. Flip me.”

Hands freezing in place, Buck stills, dick nestled into Eddie’s body. “W-What?”

Groaning, Eddie shifts, moving his body himself and landing on his back. Then, he reaches out, trying to pull Buck closer. Buck’s pulse, suddenly thundering, skips a beat and makes his chest clench.

Dutifully, Buck lines his cock back up with Eddie’s ass, pressing just the tip in as he covers Eddie’s body with his own, casting Eddie’s torso in shadow as he pushes the toy inside. He gets to watch, then, as Eddie’s eyes roll back into his head, his throat arching and baring as his body accommodates the toy easily.

They don’t do it like this. They don’t fuck like this.

Ever since the first time they’ve done it with Eddie facing away, because it’s—better. Easier. Deeper. Buck had recommended it, and Eddie had trusted him. Blindly.

But Eddie wants this. And there’s nothing Buck wouldn’t do, even if it means he’ll have to know what Eddie looks like when he’s spread open on Buck’s cock, even if it means that he’ll have to be so, so close to Eddie’s flushed face and not kiss him.

God, he wants to kiss him.

Buck presses in close, hand hooking beneath Eddie’s thigh and pulling his leg up, Eddie’s calf curving around Buck’s ass, pushing him in deeper.

Unsure, Buck’s voice drops to a whisper as he asks, “Like this?”

Eddie exhales a deep breath, nodding as he pries his eyes back open, “Fuck. Yeah. Just like this.”

We don’t do it like this, Buck’s brain pleads, straining with fear. Why does looking at you hurt?

Buck, very bravely, steels himself and closes his stupid eyes, nodding as he drags his hips back, then fucks slow into Eddie’s body, letting him adjust. Eddie’s hand curves around Buck’s body, hand skating over his flank.

He breathes through the tightness in his chest. The new angle is devastating, the dripping from every wrecked sound that slips past Eddie’s lips. As Eddie’s leg hooks around him, pulling him in impossibly deeper, the vibrating toy grinds right against that spot inside Eddie with every teasing roll of Buck’s hips. The low, steady buzzing of it travels through the silicone, pressing right against Buck’s dick, his own thighs trembling and twitching at the sensation.

But it’s nothing compared to the sight he’s forced to confront when he finally opens his eyes again.

Eddie’s there—looking up at him with dark eyes, skin beading with sweat, and lips parted around ragged breaths. His cheeks are splotchy and pink, the colour spreading all the way down his throat. He looks fucked out. Cock drunk. Beautiful.

One of Eddie’s hands lifts, gripping Buck’s wrist where it braces beside Eddie’s head, while the other is splayed over Buck’s ribcage, fingers dragging over the skin there like he’s counting them, like he can feel the beating of Buck’s heart through the flesh and bone.

He feels exposed, suddenly, in a way he never has when they’ve done this. He’s always been the one giving, giving, giving. He likes it. He does. This is just—it’s a lot. Too much, almost.

Then, shattering Buck entirely, Eddie breathes out, “Buck.”

It’s soft, airy and looks almost involuntary. Like he can’t hold it in. Like Buck is making him feel so good that he can’t control himself.

Buck’s next thrust stutters, his hips slamming in sharply. Eddie groans, fingers flexing around Buck’s wrist, nails digging into the flesh of it.

“Yeah?” Buck manages, voice gravel-rough. The vibrations do a lot of the work, his hips moving on muscle memory alone. He feels dizzy, suddenly, queasy in a way he doesn’t want to think about. “Still good?”

Eddie’s head tips back, exposing the long line of his throat again. Buck wants so, so badly to drop down and press his face into the sweaty crook of it, wants to mouthe at the tanned skin, wants to taste him.

A fresh moan spills past Eddie’s lips as Buck bottoms out, the thick base of the toy stretching Eddie’s hole. The girth on this toy, in Buck’s opinion, is a little on the generous side—he prefers deeper over thicker, but Eddie likes it thick. He likes feeling the stretch, the burn, the pressure. He likes something bullying itself inside him.

“So good,” Eddie tells him. It feels like he’s praising Buck, almost. That Buck is something good. But it’s just the toy. He knows, he knows, he knows.

Still, Buck flushes, the words a soothing balm over his aching heart, and puts more strength behind his thrusts.

Voice trembling, Eddie says, “Feels so good. Don’t— don’t stop. Please.”

Buck doesn’t. He can’t. He has to get Eddie over the line. Feels like he’ll die if he doesn’t.

He drops his weight onto a forearm, the other still hooked around Eddie’s thigh, spreading him open wider. At this proximity, he can feel the heat of every single one of Eddie’s ragged breaths. He’s close enough to memorise the shape of the pretty mole beneath Eddie’s eye, and close enough to wonder what the scar through his top lip would feel like if Buck kissed him.

Close enough, that if he wanted to, if he let himself, he could lean down and just—

Fuck. He’s stupid. He’s stupid, and he’s greedy, and Eddie’s there. Eddie’s letting him be this close.

He ducks his head, dropping his forehead against Eddie’s shoulder, letting the scent of Eddie overwhelm him instead. Sweat, soap, skin, and the faint trace of his everyday cologne. It floods his senses, drowning out the way his eyes burn enough that he can focus entirely on making Eddie feel good. He hides there, panting, as he fucks into Eddie’s body, lost in the repetitive movements of fucking him.

Eddie’s hand skates over Buck’s back.

This is the last time, Buck realises. This is the last toy in his collection.

Desperate, miserable, Buck turns his head and buries his face deep into Eddie’s neck, fucking into him harder, giving him everything he has.

Eddie’s fingers find the back of his neck, fingers threading into the damp curls at the nape of it.

“Buck,” Eddie murmurs, voice so low that if Eddie’s mouth weren’t so close to his ear, he would’ve missed it entirely beneath the wet sound of their bodies colliding and the buzzing of the toy.

Buck’s heart thumps violently against his ribcage. He just nods, listening.

“You’re shaking,” Eddie says.

“S-Sorry,” Buck whispers, voice cracking. “Fuck. Sorry.”

“Buck,” Eddie says again, voice firmer. “Buck, hey, hey—”

Buck snaps his hips harder on the next thrust, trying to distract them both. The move punches a sharp cry out of Eddie, and Buck drinks in the sound of it like a man dying of thirst. Then, Eddie shoves Buck back, gripping his shoulder and holding him up.

Buck’s eyes are wet. He knows they are.

Eddie’s expression crumples.

He shifts his hips, easing Buck’s cock out of him. Buck, despite the fact that he can’t even feel the stupid toy, whimpers at the loss.

On his knees, Eddie walks across the bed, taking Buck’s face in his hands. It’s so tender. It’s been so long since anyone’s held him like this. It’s not helping the waterworks in the slightest. Before Buck can even swipe the tears away, Eddie’s thumb is swiping over his cheek, clearing them before they can cascade down.

“What happened?” Eddie asks, voice fraught. “Did I— fuck, Buck. I’m sorry.”

Lifting a trembling hand, Buck tries to take Eddie’s wrist in his hand and pull away, but Eddie doesn’t let him. He holds Buck firm in place, forcing Buck to meet his gaze. Buck fumbles for the remote, silencing the vibrations, stilling the toy.

“Buck, talk to me.”

Unravelled at the seams, Buck lets the weight of his head be supported by Eddie’s steady palms. “I’m sorry.”

Eddie shuffles even closer, their knees knocking. An old wound reopens in his chest, the one caused by gnashing want, by violent desire, by greed. He wants Eddie more than they agreed, more than he should, more than he’s promised to.

“Why didn’t you just stop?” Eddie asks, voice fraying. “I— Buck. You should’ve stopped.”

“I don’t wanna stop,” Buck manages, voice wet and pathetic. “I don’t want to stop, Eddie.”

“Buck, I’m not gonna let you fuck me while you’re shaking and crying.”

Eddie doesn’t get it. He doesn’t see that Buck’s unravelled in a way Eddie never agreed to witness. Closing his eyes, Buck inhales a deep breath, and on the exhale, it shudders out of him, trembling.

He can’t do this. He can’t put this on Eddie. Eddie, who just figured out his sexuality after years of repression. Eddie, who has been through hell and back already. Eddie, who doesn’t need Buck’s needy, aching heart to bleed all over him.

A thousand unsaid apologies well up in Buck’s brain.

I’m sorry about this. I’m sorry that I ruin everything. I’m sorry that I don’t know how to be casual, and easy, and simple. I’m sorry that I can’t be someone easy to love. I’m sorry that I’m in love with you. I’m so, so sorry for wanting you.

Buck swallows them down. He’s stained Eddie’s hands enough.

He forces his eyes open, despite how heavy they feel. Neck straightening, he lifts his chin from Eddie’s hands. “I should— I’ll go.”

There’s a pinch in Eddie’s brow forming, his mouth opening, then closing. His eyes flit over Buck’s expression, searching and seeking for answers Buck doesn’t want him to find.

“Don’t go,” Eddie says, sounding a little like he’s begging. “Just talk to me, man. C’mon. It’s just me.”

Buck laughs—a wet, hollow thing. “Yeah. It’s you.”

Eddie’s fingers tense, the line of his jaw pulling tight. “What does that mean?”

“I’m outta toys, Eddie,” Buck says, a little lamely. “This is— I couldn’t even do it. I couldn’t even give you the full tour before I—” He sniffles, pulling back and sitting on his haunches. He feels stupid now, naked, with his stupid plastic dick still between them.

Trembling fingers find the straps, and he slowly undoes them, letting the strap crumple in a pile onto the bed. Eddie lets him, eyes still wandering over Buck. He doesn’t have to look at Eddie to know he’s watching him; he can feel the heat of his gaze all over his skin.

“I’m sorry. I don’t—” Buck frowns, mouth downturned. “We can try another time. See if, um. See if it works. For you. I know you—”

“Jesus Christ, Buck,” Eddie says, “I don’t care about the fucking toys. I don’t care about the sex. I care about why you were fine, and then you were— shaking in my arms, hiding from me.”

A little petulantly, and lying straight through his teeth, Buck mumbles, “I wasn’t hiding.”

“You tried to fuck the concern out of me, Buck,” Eddie says, irritation slipping in. Buck lets himself look at Eddie, and instantly, his expression softens, eyes gentling.

Guilt sinks into Buck’s chest, winding around the bones of his ribcage. “I didn’t— ‘m sorry. I just— I was trying. I was just trying—”

“Do you not wanna do this?”

Against his will, Buck huffs a laugh that sounds more like a sob, his shoulders curling inward. “I really don’t think that’s the problem.”

Voice desperate and frustrated, Eddie asks, “So what is? You’re not— you’re being cryptic, and— and you’re crying. And I don’t— I don’t know what I did, Buck. I thought we were good. I thought it felt good for you, too. You said—”

“It felt good, Eddie,” Buck whispers, honest and earnest. Fresh tears slide down his cheeks, gravity pooling them in Eddie’s palms. “So good. But then… then it’s over, right? And— it was gonna be okay. But then you kept looking at me, and you—”

“I made it too personal,” Eddie says, voice going flat, his expression suddenly unreadable. “Right.”

“Yeah,” Buck admits, the word barely audible. He casts his gaze away, unable to witness Eddie’s face shut down like this. Unable to face the rejection. “I just— I know everyone thinks I’m in love with you, and I— I know this is casual. I know. I know—”

“Sorry.” Eddie presses a hand over Buck’s mouth, cutting through the rushing words. “Who thinks you’re in love with me?”

Against the palm of Eddie’s hand. Buck mumbles, “Maddie.”

“Right,” Eddie says slowly, dragging his hand down, freeing Buck’s lips. He tucks a knuckle under Buck’s chin, tilting his head up, forcing their eyes to meet. “Your sister thinks you’re in love with me.”

“A-And Tommy,” Buck adds, then winces, nose scrunching in embarrassment.

“Sorry, I—” Eddie reaches over, grabs his briefs from the floor, and somehow manages to gracefully slide them on. Buck, on the other hand, is still sitting on his knees, naked as the day he was born. He can’t move. He can barely breathe. He’s fucking this up. He’s fucking everything up. Panic buzzes through the layers of his skin, filling every crevice of his body with anxiety and dread.

“Eddie,” Buck says. It feels like it’s the only word he can manage right now. His brain, on repeat, just chants it over and over. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Each pitch higher, the syllables drowning in misery. Then, again, wetly, “Eddie.”

“I’m not leaving, Buck,” Eddie says, sliding back in front of him on the bed, close enough that their knees brush, his voice low and grounding. “This is my house.”

“R-Right.” Buck blinks, eyes still wet and stinging, his lashes clumped together. “I should go.”

“You’re also not leaving,” Eddie replies firmly, his hand planting on Buck’s bare thigh like an anchor. It holds him in place, his unmoored body suddenly tied to the dock.

“Eddie.”

“Are you?”

“What?”

“In love with me?”

“P-Please,” Buck whispers, the plea cracking in his throat as he fights against the urge to collapse against Eddie and sob. “Please don’t ask me that.”

“It’s a little late for that, Buck,” Eddie says, his free hand returning to Buck’s cheek, swiping away another tear with heartbreaking gentleness. “Please. Just answer.”

“It doesn’t matter if I am. I’m— I’m outta dicks, Eddie. I’m out of excuses.”

Eddie blinks at him, fingers freezing. “What?”

“I— This is the last one. I-I don’t have any more.” Humiliation burns a path up his neck, heating his cheeks.

Frowning, Eddie asks, “... Are they single-use? What the hell am I missing here?”

“N-No. I— I wash them. I’m very hygienic. Y-You have to keep them clean so they last a long time, b-but sometimes people buy new ones for new partners, I guess. I just— I’ve only used most of them on me. A-And you, now.”

“Buck?”

Voice weak, he answers, “Yeah?

And again, pushing open a door that creaks at the hinges, screeching with panic from within Buck’s chest, Eddie asks, “Are you in love with me?”

It’s obvious, isn’t it? That they were all right about him? That he’s another helpless cliche? The queer guy who falls for his best friend? Eddie might not be straight, but that doesn’t mean he’s into Buck. It doesn’t mean he wants him. It’d be homophobic to assume that.

There’s no point in lying now, he realises. The jig is up.

“Yeah.”

Eddie’s features untense, his lips twitching up at the corner, uncertainty still clear. “Okay, then we re-use the damn strap. Or— or I can fuck you. Or we can do fucking … I don’t know. Hand stuff. Mouth stuff. I don’t even know what I like, yet. I know I like you. I– I like this.” He lifts the hand of Buck’s thigh, gesturing between the two of them. “I like doing this with you. I don’t want to do this with anyone else.”

It’s a nice idea—to have sex with his best friend for the rest of his life. But Buck has done a lot of stupid, reckless things with his heart before, and he’s not sure it can take much more. Every time they’ve fucked, it’s been another blow to an organ already held together by staples, sticky tape, and a single used bandaid. Its structural integrity is questionable at best. One more night of rolling around in Eddie’s sheets while pretending he doesn’t want this for the rest of his life might finally make it burst apart in an explosion of unforeseen devastation.

He’s not sure he’d come back from it.

Sighing, Buck says, “Eddie—”

“No, shut up. Listen to me.” Eddie’s tone does not leave room to argue—and despite Buck’s penchant for finding space where it doesn’t exist—he listens. He clamps his mouth shut, bottom lip trembling. Eddie leans closer, still holding Buck’s jaw in his steady grip. “Actually listen to me. I need you to hear me. I don’t want anyone else, Buck. I like you. I’m into you. I cooked us dinner, I— I put on your stupid Love Is Blind show, and I don’t even— I hate that show, Buck. The men are sexist.”

Any other time, Buck would huff a laugh. Now, though, he just nods. “I-I know. They all suck.”

“But you like it. You like how stupid it is. And I like doing things you like. I like—” Eddie’s gaze, warm and painfully tender, burns a hole into him. Buck welcomes the heat. To die by Eddie’s scorching love would be a heavenly way to go. “I like you, Buck.”

The words hit Buck like a punch to the solar plexus. He feels winded, suddenly, his brain realising he’s been ten steps behind in this race towards understanding. He scrambles, quickly, picking up speed. Voice shaking, he admits, “I didn’t know.”

“Yeah,” Eddie exhales, tracing the pad of his thumb through drying tear stains. “I realise that now, okay? I was— I’ve been building up to it. To this. I thought I was dropping hints. That— that actions speak louder than words, but I forgot, okay? I know you need words. I know you need— clarity.”

Buck’s always difficult like this. Slow on the uptake. Desperate for clarification, for direct communication, to be told what he means to someone. He’s always, always, always doubting his place in people’s lives, forcing them into situations like this where they have to spell it out for him. Fingers clenching into fists at his sides, he says, “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Eddie says, voice suddenly firm. “No, hey. It’s not a bad thing. I don’t— Buck, I would die for you. Do you get that?”

He does. That’s one thing he’s never questioned. Eddie would die for him. Eddie, who, while freshly struck by lightning, would climb up a ladder, untethered, just to bring Buck to safety. Eddie, who would fight through every single person in a shitty town in New Mexico just to make sure Buck came home. Eddie, who would die for him. Kill for him, too, maybe, if he had to.

But it’s mutual. Even. That part is always true.

Buck would crawl into active gunfire for him. Would claw through the mud to get to him. Would break down doors and fight through crowds, would— he’d do anything.

“I– me too.”

“I know. I know.” Eddie smiles, eyes watery. “But more than that, I need you to know that… that I’d— I’d live, alright? I’d live for you. I’d live with you. I’d be– be soft, even when it scares the hell out of me. I’ll trust you even when I’m terrified. I’ll become the kinda guy who deserves you.”

Tilting forward, Eddie presses their foreheads together, his cheeks wet with emotion. Buck can’t breathe. Can’t comfort him. Can’t tell him he’s the best friend he’s ever had. Can’t tell him that loving him is the easiest thing in the world, even when it hurts. Can’t tell him he loves him. Can’t, can’t, can’t.

Eddie closes his eyes, exhaling slow. Then, “I’ll let myself feel joy, because I-I want to feel joy with you. I want to know what you look like in fifty years when you’ve lived a stupid, long, happy life, and there are wrinkles all over your face. I wanna kiss you then. I wanna kiss you now. I wanna be weak in front of you. I wanna hold you when you’re scared, and I want you to feel safe. I want to be your– your guy. I’ll— I’ll live, okay? With you. I’ll—” Eddie laughs, a desperate, fraying thing.

He pulls back, tilting Buck’s head up by his jaw, eyes bearing into his. Buck feels like he’ll buckle under the weight of his gaze, but he manages to stay up, mostly because he’s frozen entirely in place.

“I’ll love you, okay? I love you.”

The words hang there, right in the air between them—simple, devastating, impossible to misunderstand.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

Eddie says it like it’s an exhale, like he’s been holding his breath for so long. For months, maybe? Years, even? But now, eyes wide open, raw, terrified and brave all at once, he breathes them out. He gives them to Buck. Hands them over for him to have, to keep, to— to return.

Eddie’s waiting for him to say it back. Not impatiently, far from it, even now as his hands tremble against Buck’s jawbone, he gives him the space to linger in this—in the repetitive staticy voice repeating he loves me, he loves me, he loves me—and to pick himself up. To collect himself.

To love Eddie back.

Unable to answer with words, Buck surges forward, closing the space between them and sealing their mouths together for the first time. It tastes like the salt of both their tears, of relief, of longing, of— of finally, finally, finally. Buck shudders as Eddie tilts his head, slotting their lips together at a better angle, deepening it as his hand slides into Buck’s curls, pulling him closer.

There’s a reverence in the way Eddie kisses him, a softness in the way he chases Buck’s tongue, a love in the hunger bleeding into it. Buck makes a quiet, desperate sound into the heat of Eddie’s mouth, and Eddie groans, his hand finding Buck’s shoulder before he nudges Buck down a little, spreading his legs over the bulk of Buck’s thighs.

Eddie’s dick is soft, now, covered by his underwear, but his body is there, hot, and warm, and beautiful. Buck doesn’t have to see it to know. He’s witnessed it for years—the soft muscle of his stomach, the carved lines of his chest, the impossible curve of his arms, his hairy, strong things. Buck settles an unsteady hand over one of them, squeezing just once.

Slowly, Eddie nudges him back further, laying him flat on his back, his ass right over Buck’s hips as he settles atop him. Eddie presses a hand into the sheets by Buck’s head, dipping down low.

He smiles, then, warm and still so patient. He’s so beautiful. Warm, and bright, and everything Buck’s ever wanted.

Buck’s body is bursting with affection, now, his misery swept away and replaced with a comfort he’s never felt before—the feeling of being truly, truly loved.

“I love you,” Buck exhales.

“I know,” Eddie breathes back.

“Was that—” Buck blinks. “Was that fucking Star Wars?”

Eddie grins—that stupid, pleased little grin he only pulls out for his nerdiest, and most cringe-worthy dad jokes—and leans down, nudging their noses together. “Uh-huh.”

“You’re so lame,” Buck murmurs, hands gripping at Eddie’s hips.

“Yeah, but you still wanna fuck me.”

Buck shakes his head.

Eddie’s brow lifts.

“Wanna make love to you,” Buck corrects, lifting his head to brush their lips together. “I wanna do it right. T-This time. Please.”

Atop him, Eddie shudders. “Yeah? You still—”

“You didn’t come,” Buck says simply, hand slipping between them to palm at Eddie’s softened cock. “Promised to make you come on each one of my dicks, didn’t I?”

Eyes going soft and fuzzy again, just like they had when Buck was fucking into him, Eddie nods.

“I-I promise not to freak out this time,” Buck aims for joking, but Eddie doesn’t laugh. Instead, he plants a hand on Buck’s chest, thumb swiping just once across the damp skin.

“I was worried about you, Buck,” Eddie says, slow. “I’m not mad. Or upset. Or annoyed.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“I mostly know.”

Eddie drags his hand down, down, down, fingers curving to let his nails drag through Buck’s chest and stomach hair, landing just before where his own body rests. “Can I try something?”

Without even thinking, Buck answers, “Anything.”

There’s a beat of silence, like Eddie’s working up to something, Buck tries to catch his eye in the dimly lit room, but they’re closed, now. Then, as they flutter open, he asks, “Can I suck your dick?”

Buck’s lips purse, his eyes flitting to the abandoned strap. “Are you sure? It’s kinda— lube-y.”

A single finger finds Buck’s cheeks, tilting his head back. Purposefully, Eddie’s eyes drag over Buck’s body, landing down south. Then, they flit back up. “Can I suck your dick?”

Buck swallows. “You want to?”

Eddie’s cheeks pinken. “Yeah. Thought about it a couple times.”

Buck really does not need any convincing, but Eddie, all pretty and flushed, and admitting he’s been thinking about sucking Buck off would be more than enough if he did. Nodding, Buck sits up, nudging Eddie out of his lap. He shuffles up the bed, depositing himself up near the pillows, bending a knee and spreading his thighs.

Gaze going molten, Eddie stares at the space between Buck’s legs, immediately settling between them with an arm hooked around his thigh.

“It’s um,” Buck begins, “It’s similar to what you’re used to. Mechanics-wise. But— more sucking, less like, lapping. I’m sensitive. Like— like crazy sensitive. So, it doesn’t, um. It doesn’t take much.”

Eyes glued to Buck’s cock, Eddie nods. He knows he’s listening—Eddie’s always been attentive, even when he’s horny out of his mind.

“I get really wet,” he continues. “You should probably– know that. And uh— you can finger me. If you want. J-Just two, maybe. Otherwise, it gets really messy, and I still have plans to put you through the mattress. So.”

A kiss is pressed to the inside of his thigh, open-mouthed and lingering. Eddie’s tongue tastes the skin there, cheeks hollowing as he sucks gently at it. Buck shudders, hips stuttering up a little. Tentatively, Buck slides his fingers into Eddie’s hair, grabbing a handful as he guides Eddie’s mouth where he wants it. Needs it.

He’s already hard. The few inches of length are thick with blood, hot and aching between his thighs. Eddie goes where he’s guided eagerly and easily. He presses a soft kiss to the tip of Buck’s cock, then slides his mouth over it, welcoming it onto his tongue.

He’s gonna lose his mind. Eddie’s mouth is so, so warm. So wet.

Buck looks up at the ceiling, unable to deal with everything that’s currently happening down south.

Below the belt, Eddie Diaz is there, betwixt his thighs, sucking his dick. Which is fine. It’s cool. It’s great.

And the Eddie Diaz there is in love with him. He wants him. For his body, for his heart, for his everything.

Still stares up at the ceiling, sending a silent thanks to a God he does not believe in, and then proceeds to almost immediately die as Eddie suctions his mouth, sucking the cock deeper into the wet heat of his mouth, tongue teasing at it and exploring the tip.

“J-Jesus, Eddie, just— yeah. Just like that,” Buck breathes, hips rolling on their own accord.

Eddie’s always been so, so competent. Buck had thought Eddie was just well-trained in a lot of things, with years of experience under his belt. Apparently, he’s just a quick learner. He sucks Buck’s dick the same way he suckles those stupid ring pops. It’s obscene. It’s messy. It’s so fucking hot.

He tongues the slit, bobbing his head to show equal love to every single inch of him, and then— fuck, it’s like he’s making out with Buck’s cock. With his pussy. Buck’s thighs, either side of Eddie’s head, are already trembling and twitching. Eddie plants a hand on the one not currently hooked over his shoulder and pins it down right as it goes to slam against the side of his ear, almost like Eddie saw it coming in some kind of horny premonition. Or he just kind of expected it because he’d just dipped down and licked at the wetness spilling from Buck and groaned with pleasure at the taste.

“Fuck, so—” Buck’s leg pushes down on Eddie’s shoulder, the muscles of it tensing. “Fuck. You’re so hot.”

Eddie, predictably, does not reply. His mouth is a little occupied. Buck understands.

Instead, he just slips a finger into Buck, pumping it in time with repetitive, messy licks over the sensitive tip of Buck’s dick. Buck’s head tilts back, a whine torn from him and spilling past his lips. Buck tugs at his hair, not pulling him up, but pushing him deeper. He buries Eddie’s face in his pussy, and into the wet heat there, Eddie moans like he’s the one being eaten out.

He takes Buck’s cock back into his mouth, focusing on getting his rhythm even as he works his tongue and hand in tandem. It feels like he’s trying to suck the fucking life out of him.

“So good,” Buck manages, “You’re doing so good.”

The groan Eddie lets out in response vibrates through Buck’s cock, shooting in a straight line up his spine. The hand in Eddie’s hair, against Buck’s will, shoves him in deeper again, his hips pressing up. It’s not the most gentlemanly of maneuvers, seeing as Eddie probably can’t really breathe right now, but he’s shoved Eddie around enough to know the guy really doesn’t mind. Proving his point, Eddie whines into Buck’s pussy, slipping a second finger inside as he works his cock over.

“You like how it tastes?” Buck asks, voice barely above a whisper. Eddie hears it, though, and nods, dipping down to lick around his fingers, tasting Buck’s mess.

Buck knows he tastes pretty good—has licked his own fingers clean more than once, and many times has tasted himself on his partners' tongues after they go down on him. He likes it. Seemingly, Eddie does, too.

Tongue returning to sliding through the slit of Buck’s dick, Eddie curves his fingers, pressing, seeking, then rubbing right against the spongy flesh of Buck’s g-spot.

Buck, predictably, keens. “Fuck, th—there, yeah, good. You’re so good.”

Barely thirty seconds later, Eddie’s two fingers are pumping relentlessly in and out of Buck while his talented mouth devours Buck’s pussy like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted to taste. Buck clenches hard around the thick digits, his walls fluttering and tightening as pleasure crashes through him.

“Coming, fuck, you’re—” A moan rips from Buck’s chest, echoing off the walls. His vision sparks, filling with little white, burning dots. “I’m coming. ‘M coming, Ed–Eddie. Eddie—”

Buck’s whole body feels electrified, all his nerves fried and overstimulated. Eddie works him through it, slowing the movements of his bobbing mouth, his fingers slowing to a leisurely thrust as his orgasm ebbs.

Slowly, he retracts the fingers out of Buck, pulling them up to his own mouth and sucking them clean with a low, satisfied hum.

God.

Buck is going to eat him alive.

With the handful of his hair gripped between his fingers, he pulls Eddie up to standing on his knees, scrambling to his own to slot their mouths together roughly. It’s a collision, really, more than a kiss—a crashing of teeth, tongue and lips that Eddie moans into, melting against Buck instantly. Buck chases the taste of himself on Eddie’s tongue, moaning as Eddie lets him in eagerly, his hands gripping at Buck’s sides in an attempt to ground himself.

Once he pulls back, he catches sight of Eddie’s messy, wet, slick mouth parted around a ragged breath and of his glassy, fogged-over eyes. His cheeks are flushed pink, the colour stubbornly painting his face.

Grinning, Buck says, “Holy shit. You’re pussy-drunk.”

Blinking slow, Eddie eloquently replies, “Huh?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Buck laughs, pressing a few quick, soft kisses to his mouth. “Get on your back. I need— I need to be inside you. Now.”

Eddie complies quickly, dropping on his back behind Buck, head lost in the pillows. Buck quickly grasps the toy, buckling it all into place. He tightens the straps, ensuring it’s in place and not going anywhere. When he looks over at Eddie, he’s staring directly at the toy, lips parted.

Buck grabs the lube, squirting it into his hand.

“You definitely want this one again?” Buck asks.

“Don’t care,” Eddie says. “Just want you. C’mon.”

“You sure? Come on, which is your favourite?” Buck slicks his hand over his cock, smearing the lube over it.

“Buck.” Eddie’s tone goes serious, firm. “If you don’t get the fuck over here and get in me, I’m gonna jerk off, roll over and go to sleep.”

Eyes narrowing, Buck says, “You wouldn’t.”

Eddie raises a single brow. “You wanna test that?”

“Fuck no.”

Buck scrambles between Eddie’s spread thighs, winding those strong legs around his waist. He drags the thick head of the toy over Eddie’s loosened hole, teasing the rim a few times.

“Ready?”

Eddie nods, hips already rocking up greedily, trying to get the toy to slip inside. “Yeah—hurry up.”

Dutifully, Buck sinks his cock inside of Eddie’s body, filling him up inch by inch. Eddie’s teeth sink into his bottom lip, head lolling to the side as he exhales shakily, his body taking it even easier now. “Fuck, there you go, just— just take it.”

Eddie does. Eddie takes every inch, a soft, punched-out sound escaping him with each deep stroke— familiar little uh, uh, uh’s that Buck can feel against his lips when Eddie drags him down by the back of his neck, fingers cupping the warm skin there.

Buck’s eyes roam over him: Eddie flushed and open beneath him, fingers twisting in the sheets, legs locked tight around Buck’s waist. Eddie, who loves him. Eddie, who wants him. Eddie, who wants to keep him.

Breathless, Buck presses their foreheads together and whispers, “I can’t believe you’re real.”

Holding himself up on tired limbs, Buck slams in, burying the strap into him over and over. Eddie’s head tips back, chin knocking Buck’s face as it’s thrown back.

A guttural groan tears from him, vibrating through Eddie’s entire body.

“Fuuuck—”

“Yeah?” Buck grins, holding himself deep in him, grinding in slow, filthy circles, making him experience every ridge and inch of it.

Eddie doesn’t answer verbally, just grips the back of Buck’s neck tighter, nodding his head tightly.

“You’re so pretty like this,” Buck breathes, “You’re so fucking pretty.”

Blushing, Eddie turns, pressing his face into the pillow, which really just gives Buck a better view of his warm flush. Grinning, Buck pulls almost all the way out, working his hips in tiny twitches to tease the fat head through Eddie’s rim, never fully sinking inside.

Beneath him, Eddie whines into the pillow, nails digging harshly into the back of Buck’s neck. He scratches along the back of it, leaving pleasant little burning welts in their wake. “Buck.”

“Sorry,” he murmurs, lying straight through his teeth. He grins at Eddie’s lax features, dropping to his forearm, like he had before he’d begun shaking and blubbering last time, and pushes all the way inside. “I’ve got you.”

This time, he gets to have him. Just like this. Knows, deep in his core, that this isn’t the last time. In a way, it almost feels like a first.

Eddie presses his face further into the pillow. Buck ducks in, brushing his mouth across Eddie’s jaw, feeling the stubble against his lips.

“No, no, no, come on,” Buck whispers, voice private between them. “Eyes on me, Eds. I wanna see you. I wanna watch you take it.”

Eddie whimpers, exhaling raggedly.

Buck rocks his hips, shoving the toy in deep. When Eddie remains unmoving, Buck presses a kiss to his temple, whispering, “Please?”

Despite how wrecked he clearly is, Eddie listens then.

He turns his head, meeting Buck’s gaze. He looks so, so blissed-out. Lost in pleasure. Lost in the pleasure Buck is giving him. Eddie’s already on the edge. He can tell, can read Eddie’s body like a book he knows back to front. He wonders, briefly, if it’s from how much he liked sucking Buck off.

He puts a pin in that for another day.

“Gonna make you come,” Buck promises, wrapping his fingers around Eddie’s leaking cock. He uses the foreskin to work it over, squeezing over the head to drag more of the wetness from the tip. “Want you to come on my dick, Eddie. Please. Wanna see this time. I – I need to see. Please.”

He needs to witness it. Needs to keep it. It’s his now, he realises. All of this is his to keep. To have. Eddie is his.

Eddie, visibly fighting through the urge to hide, nods desperately, bearing down on Buck’s cock, fucking back and meeting his every thrust.

With Buck’s hand around him, Eddie’s full body shaking beneath him, his skin glistening with sweat. He’s so close.

“What do you need?” Buck asks, voice desperate. “Fuck, Eddie. I’ll give it to you. Give— Give you anything. Just tell me.”

“Kiss me,” Eddie grinds out, nose pressing into Buck’s cheekbone. “Fuck. Kiss me.”

God, Buck is beyond delighted to comply.

He closes the distance, pressing their mouths together, licking into Eddie’s eagerly when Eddie lets out a pretty little moan.

It’s a little hard coordinating himself like this—his hand fisting over Eddie’s dick, his hips pumping to keep filling Eddie up over and over, and his mouth and tongue working to pull Eddie apart.

It works, though, he makes it work. Eddie’s trembling body goes tight beneath him, his cock flexing within Buck’s grip. Buck tightens his grip, working him just a little faster, so, so desperate to see it. Into Buck’s mouth, Eddie suddenly sobs.

His cock twitches once, twice, then comes, spilling hot and messy over Buck’s knuckles. Buck pulls away from the kiss with great reluctance, eyes dropping down so he can watch Eddie come for him. At this angle, he can see his strap stretching Eddie, stuffing him full of the thick toy, but more than that, he can see Eddie’s dick — flushed, and pretty, and still coming.

Eddie is whining beneath him, head twisting to press the noises into the pillow as Buck fucks him through it. Buck doesn’t stop him, this time, just keeps driving inside, knocking against his prostate as he jerks him off.

Breathless and exhausted, he manages, “Fuck, I love you. I love you. You’re so perfect. I love you.”

The final spurt hits Eddie’s stomach, the final stroke on the perfect painting. Buck’s hand slows, but his hips don’t. He keeps fucking into him, listening as Eddie cries into the pillow, dipping down to mouth at Eddie’s jaw.

“So good,” Buck whispers, voice wrecked. “You’re so good. You’re so— fuck. You’re perfect, Eddie. You’re perfect.”

Eddie sobs again, a ruined, euphoric sound. He must be getting tender now—his body oversensitive from so much stimulation. He’s boneless beneath him, his legs somehow still stubbornly hooked around Buck’s waist, accommodating the bulk of him.

“I could keep going, y-you know,” Buck mumbles, tilting so he can lick the tears from Eddie’s cheek. He tastes like sweat, like skin, like everything he’s ever wanted. “C-Can’t go soft. I can just keep fucking you. Keep you crying– fuck, crying on my dick.

Wordlessly, Eddie tightens his legs around Buck’s waist, pulling him deep, deep, deep. Then, he shudders, his cock surprising both of them as it pulses one last time, a single drop sliding from him as his body tightens around Buck’s strap.

Buck stills, then, their bodies pressed completely flush.

Finally giving in to the ache in his muscles, Buck collapses on top of him. Eddie’s arm wraps around him immediately, pinning him against him.

Buck tucks his face into the safety of Eddie’s neck, reaching to smooth a hand over Eddie’s still twitching thigh. Eddie shivers, tightening his grip, dragging Buck in closer.

Quiet, against the skin there, Buck whispers, “You okay?”

Eddie nods easily, fingers of one hand slipping into Buck’s hair, tucking him in place. Buck smiles against Eddie’s neck, then presses a closed-mouth kiss to it.

For a beat, Eddie doesn’t say anything at all. Buck lets them lapse into silence together.

Eventually, Eddie’s grip loosens around Buck’s body, his legs no longer shaking. Softly, Eddie mumbles, “Jesus Christ.”

Buck, bleary with fatigue, mumbles, “No. Just Buck.”

Groaning, Eddie tugs at Buck’s hair. Buck laughs into the crook of his throat, nuzzling into it in apology.

“You okay?” Buck asks.

“Yeah, just—” A beat passes. A slow exhale. “Fuck.”

Nodding, Buck repeats, “Fuck.”

“We could’ve been doing that the whole time.”

Another laugh spills from Buck, his shoulders shaking with it. “Yeah.”

The quiet settles in again. Eddie must be exhausted, he thinks. Slowly, he shifts his hips, dragging them back so that the toy can slip free from Eddie’s body. Beneath him, Eddie makes a thready, pained noise.

Apologetically, Buck pecks a line along Eddie’s neck, hand dipping to his hip to work the strap off of his body. It is, admittedly, very hard to do without looking, with a single hand. Unfortunately, despite his many talents, Evan Buckley is unable to complete the task.

Sighing, he slowly lifts his head from its comfortable, warm nook. No man has ever suffered more than him, in this moment.

Eddie smiles up at him, tired and satiated. Buck gets to see that face for the rest of his life. He thinks, with great confidence, he’s the luckiest guy in the entire world.

Lifting himself up properly, he undoes the strap, dumping it to the side of the bed in the vague direction of where he tossed the lube earlier.

Suddenly, Eddie’s sitting up, too. Buck blinks, smiling warmly at him.

Then, at once, Buck is being—well. Manhandled. Buck is shoved and nudged around till he’s on his side, and Eddie then plasters himself to Buck’s back, face pressed into the space between Buck’s shoulder blades.

Buck is helpless to do anything but melt within Eddie’s grip. He breathes out, all his muscles relaxing at once as Eddie hugs him tight to his chest, dropping a kiss atop Buck’s spine.

With the way they’re lying, Eddie is kind of like the warmest backpack ever. He’s like a little warm koala attached to him.

He is reminded, once again, that he is the luckiest man alive. He slides his hand over Eddie’s as it settles over his heart, and interlaces their fingers.

Eddie hums against Buck’s back. Then, words slurring with exhaustion, he mumbles, “We’ll talk. Later. More. Just—” He yawns, then, wide enough that his jaw cracks. “Just wanna hold you now. That okay?”

Buck’s heart, suddenly aglow, settles in a way it never has before. Eyes a little wet, Buck nods. “Yeah, Eddie. That’s okay.”

Another kiss to Buck’s spine. “Love you.”

Buck lets his eyes slip closed, then. “Love you, too.”