Archive of Our Own

The sky outside has no real reflection on the time of day. It's still light enough that Eddie finds it shining through the blinds of his kitchen window, begging to illuminate the room so the main light doesn't have to. The dishes are too soapy, a consequence of being too heavy-handed with the dish soap once again; this is why Buck usually does the washing up instead of him.

Some may say that he is stress cleaning and they'd be right. Meticulously double checking the surfaces of kitchen counters and dusting off appliances that he hasn't even used in months. Buck’s due back any minute from an emergency out-of-office-hours therapy session, something that he started up after what happened in New Mexico and the subsequent dependency. 

Everything has to be perfect. It needs to be. Something about the kitchen being disorderly as it is could lead Eddie into booking a session himself. Just one more dish then he will be done, that's all.

“That's enough,” says Buck out of thin air, plucking the foxglove-patterned plate out of Eddie's hands from behind. 

“Buck, that was the last plate.” 

“Well, that's too bad,” Buck counters. 

He looks surprisingly upbeat for somebody who needed an extra therapy appointment. Must've done the trick, that or the appearance of the house doesn't bother him in the slightest. The glare from the window casts Buck in the fading sunlight.

Eddie rips off the gloves like they personally offend him, and puts them back home underneath the sink. The leftover plate just stares at him with its nonexistent eyes so he turns away only to find Buck much closer than before.

Buck sways on his feet, a tell-tale sign of nerves or in some cases, anticipation. Unsure of the difference sometimes when they're displayed the same. “Good. I really needed it.” 

Eddie instinctively moves for the fridge but is blocked by Buck's hand on the edge of the sink, essentially trapping him in. He gives pause to that, swallowing down an obvious question of what's going on? and stays perfectly still. 

“No beers.” 

“Right.” 

It's a wise choice, he'll give him that. 

There's an exit on the other side of him, an opening that Buck hasn't blocked off with the option of escape in mind. It's purposeful but unnecessary. Eddie shuffles himself further back into the counter, expectant. The clock loudly ticks as it changes to twenty past seven, near dinner time and nothing is being prepared or even considered.

Maybe he's damn hungry from the incessant cleaning.

“The kitchen looks nice,” he eventually says. It catches Eddie off guard enough that he stumbles out a meek thanks. 

Buck has always seeked things out, whether that's internet deep dives and rabbitholes, or ways for self improvement and positivity. He never lets go of an opportunity regardless of the consequences that may come with it, even when it concerns the fuck out of everyone else. So when Eddie passively plants his hands on the edge of the sink, elbows pointed back and his stance open wide, Buck takes the chance to fill the space.

Their chests are pressed against each other, Buck's leaning down far enough that Eddie's accidentally mouthing at his curly hair. Buck's hair smells distinctively like mangoes and something else that he can't quite identify. He reciprocates the embrace, eyes naturally falling closed. The smell of the mangoes soothes him more than he cares to admit.

“I'm really glad you're here,” Buck murmurs into the quiet. It vibrates through Eddie's entire body.

“Where else would I be?” 

It's a stupid question, he quickly realises.

Buck thumbs at his waist, fidgeting with the belt as a distraction. It's beginning to fray and Eddie hasn't bothered to buy a new one since it's not broken enough to warrant the change. Too attached to the way it fits just right.

“You could be in Texas,” Buck states, pointing out the options like Eddie doesn't already know. “Or dead.” 

Eddie maneuvers him upwards so they're now facing each other, the hand on the belt staying as the only point of contact. The hand needs to stay there. The Texas part confuses him, figuring that he didn't have to explain himself post-return from the airport the second time around. Christopher had to come home regardless of everything and everyone else.

“I didn't have a choice.”

Buck shakes his head, “It's not about that,” he sighs. “I get Texas completely. It's just, you could've died out there too.” 

So much happened in New Mexico that the memory of the car crash often slips his mind. It's hardly a memory, what with him fading in and out of consciousness only Buck's disappearance and how long rescue would take on his mind. The physical reminders are all he really got out of it.

Eddie doesn't want to go out of the state ever again. 

He caresses Buck's birthmark without even thinking about it. It's involuntary. It's the gentleness in the conversation that they need.

“I'm here the same as you, Buck.”

Buck smiles. It's bashful and genuine. So reminiscent of his old self that Eddie can’t even remember the last time he'd smiled like this. It has been over a year at the very least, he feels it in his bones. Flashes of a funeral that he could never forget and copies of airplane tickets that commemorate the returns to California.

He taps Buck's fingers, interlacing them with his own so they're holding hands. The other hand that is on his belt tightens, skimming the top of his waistband as Buck tilts forward. 

The level of closeness is new but not unwelcome. It’s something he didn't know that he wanted but damn will he get it. He owns and copyrights the fucking textbook on how to repress your desires and actively wants to burn the metaphorical book one page at a time. Wants to dangle himself in front of Buck as a piece of candy with a wrapper that only he can open. 

It's about time he advertises the new product on the market anyway. Eddie shifts his legs open and pulls Buck by the hand into the vacant space.

“Do you, uh, want to move away from the sink?”

Hook line and sinker.

Eddie tilts his head, considering it, asking, “Oh, are you going to let me this time?”

“Only if I'm coming with you.” 

Buck's phone dings with numerous notifications. It's Maddie, requesting his immediate assistance with a matter that Eddie isn't privy to. 

“Raincheck then?” 

There's nothing specifically to raincheck, nothing actually happened, but he nods in agreement anyway. 

-

Christopher: hamborger

Eddie: ???

Christopher: i require hamborger

Eddie: You are at school.

Christopher: dinner

Christopher: buck isn't answering his phone so i am requesting from you

Eddie: I'll ask. 

Christopher: epic sauce

Eddie: Is that like an epic fail? 

Christopher: no lol. you are really showing your age 

Eddie: I'm not old. I'm literally thirty three.

Christopher: 🧓

Eddie: Sigh.

-

Buck: if we had a bunk bed of our own, would you take the top or bottom bunk?

Eddie: We are at work. 

Buck: that doesn't answer my question 

Buck: top or bottom????

Eddie: 

This feels like a trap.

…

Bottom. 

Buck: well yes! 

Eddie: If you knew, why did you ask?

Buck: future reference 

Eddie: I don't want a bunk bed, Buck.

Buck: wasn't talking about them :)

Eddie: 

???

What does that mean?

Buck. 

I can see you typing from across the room.

Eddie: I will get answers.

-

Buck sneaks up on him as he's polishing one of the living room windows. Halfway through the job, he's almost satisfied with the progress so far. The pillows desperately need fluffing next.

“I see you are still cleaning.”

Eddie doesn't bother dropping the items down to speak. It's urgent business. “Do you want me to have a dirty house, Buckley?” 

Buck presumably glances around the room, either observing or critiquing Eddie has no idea which. “Well, no. I don't know what you're trying to perfect here man, the place looks pretty clean.” 

If only he actually believed that. 

“Maybe. It's never adequate,” says Eddie, wiping down the glass. The conversation isn't going to deter him from finishing the project, even if Buck doesn't quite get it. 

There's a warmth lingering behind him now as he's angled down towards the windowsill, laser focused. Whispers of mould growing there if he concentrates hard enough. Buck places the gentlest hands on his waist, a new favourite position adopted from the other day, which Buck can't quite get enough of apparently. “Eddie,” is all he says. 

It's almost a plea. This simply won't do.

Eddie presses on with his work. It gets disrupted pretty much instantaneously when Buck towers over and kidnaps the spray bottle and cloth, throwing them onto the couch with accurate precision.

“Dude.” 

“Eddie. That is enough.”

Holy fuck that's hot. Seriously considers pissing him off more by getting them back and resuming. He could easily race across and hide behind the couch quicker before Buck would know. Five medium strides and it would do the job effectively. Buck does say he's the fastest of the one eighteen after all.

Eddie makes the error of being too slow on the decision making as Buck stalks further behind him. It would only take a second to grab him and do what? Eddie could only imagine. Hairs on the neck flare in anticipation only for there to be nothing to come of it. Mourning a touch that hadn't even started.

Spinning on his heel, Eddie spots Buck's quick shift in his eyeline upon the change of body direction. Like he had been staring at Eddie's ass.

“So, do you want lasagne for dinner or something else? I've always wanted to try spaghetti carbonara,” asks Buck, as if he's following up a prior conversation. 

“I want you.” 

If Buck's surprised by the response, he doesn't let on. He smiles instead, sliding a hand to his own belt as he steps forward only by an inch. Wanna go for the title? It's a much slower approach than usual, like Eddie's some innocent prey that he's afraid to spook off. Truly nothing could, and it's futile to pretend otherwise. 

“Well, uh. I can whip that up for you, if you'd like?” 

Eddie's brain has already jumped several hoops in the metaphorical gutter. “Who said anything about whipping?” 

Buck fully laughs. “Just you. It's an expression,” he explains with a fiddle on the belt buckle, temptation at the tips of his fingers. “Unless you don't want it to be?” 

Or, he could be annoying. 

Eddie makes a run for it, eyes narrowing on the target. He just about reaches an arm of the couch before he finds himself pressed against the edge, legs bracketing it awkwardly as a weight holds down his lower half. It's uncomfortable. It's glorious. 

“You're still on that?,” questions Buck. It's easy to picture the thunder in his eyes.

“Of course, man. You didn't let me finish,” he replies. It isn't even about the window anymore but he can pretend, fake nonchalance if that's what it takes. “It'll only take a minute.”

Before he can even appreciate the position he's gotten himself into, Buck fully pulls away. Tearing away all the physical contact so unexpectedly that he can't control the small whimper that slips out. It’s wild how desperate he feels and they've not even done anything - you could hardly call this foreplay, not that he's the sexual expert. It could be passed off as innocent, dubious at best. Only dialogue is what alludes to something more, really. 

You could excuse his position as him tripping on the couch because of Buck, if you were so inclined. 

“Turn around.” 

A request. A demand, dare he say. It's one that he should really listen to but the pressure from the couch on his hardening cock feels way too good. Why should he move from this acceptable position? Sure it could have at least been on the actual thing itself and not the side but beggars can't be choosers.

“I said turn around, Eddie.” 

Making no effort to move, he holds his breath. Surely this would prompt something? A spanking maybe? Had Buck taken him at face value and expected him to actually resume the housework? Eddie considers shifting around to get more comfortable when a hand lands on his ass. 

Oh hello.

It's tender and then it's gone just like that. Expecting some sort of follow up, Eddie braces for impact, and once again he's left hanging there. Bent over like a buffoon, desperate and unhinged. 

This is definitely something you discuss beforehand but Eddie's too deprived to think logically.

“Thought you said you wanted to finish your cleaning but instead you're bent over like a whore.”

Eddie resists the urge to moan, he doesn't want to give Buck the satisfaction despite the fact that he's literally ass up right now. Bit too late for that. “Yeah, well. Figured I'd stay right here instead, are you going to do something about that?” 

“Nah. I like the view.” 

Eddie swears he hears a shuffle around behind him and a camera flash. Thinking about Buck taking that photo for material so he can get off later makes his cock fill more. He could have the real thing right now if he'd fucking do something; Eddie's already given the go ahead, showing off his ass like it's a batman signal.

He shuffles on the couch reluctantly, parking himself on it properly like none of that happened. Cheeks flushed and a half hard cock being the only giveaway that something is abnormal. 

“You've finally turned around. Good boy,” Buck praises.

It has the intended effect because Eddie responds with a groan. His fingers itch to make contact with his cock for some relief, but the death glare from Buck at said fingers signals him not to. He's so damn obvious sometimes. His hands stay directly on his legs instead, needling them because he cannot keep still.

Buck stays standing and makes no effort to leave his spot. “Do you really think you deserve to be touched after that?” 

Uh, yeah?

“No,” he says as if he's reading Eddie's thoughts. Buck suddenly becoming telepathic would be useful. “You didn't turn around when I told you to.” 

Buck brushes past him as he retrieves the spray bottle and cloth before dropping them on Eddie's lap. “You're going to finish off the polishing and then we'll see what you actually deserve. Okay?” 

“Okay.”

He understands completely and goes to do exactly that while hard as a fucking rock.

-

Buck sends a bouquet of flowers with a note to the house the following day.

Good job on the clean. 

Here's a treat from me. Enjoy.

Love, Buck. 

A framed photograph is discreetly tucked under some of the roses. It's partially coated in a substance but it's obvious enough that it's the picture from yesterday of Eddie bent over the couch. 

He can't touch the picture itself because it's sealed in the frame but he just knows that it is cum that's spattered across his ass. 

Eddie almost comes himself on the spot.

Almost. 

What a lovely gift.

He hides it deep in the bedside drawer before anybody else can see. 

Eddie: Thanks for the flowers. 

Buck: you're welcome

Buck: so do you like it?

Eddie: Yeah. I love it.

Buck: good :)

-

Eddie is genuinely checking the work supply closet for ambulance restock when Buck corners him. The supplies can wait.

“I'm coming over tomorrow.” 

“Alright…?” 

He can't remember the last time Buck had to announce that he'd be over, he's either on South Bedford Street or he's not. There's no need for a warning when there's always an assumption that they'd be seeing each other like every fucking day.

Buck sways forward, shoulder bumping Eddie's. “You should, uh, arrange a sleepover for Christopher.” 

Oh.

Okay. 

“I'll see if Hen and Karen are available for babysitting.” Follows suit with the swaying as Eddie continues, “What happens if they're not?”

Buck looks him dead on. “Then you'll have to wait. Can you do that, Eddie? Can you hold out a little longer until I finally touch you?”

Is he trying to finally start something? Here? At fucking work? Regardless if he actually is or not, Eddie's beginning to tent in his fucking work pants, barely resisting a whimper.

Buck glances down, eyeing it up with curious eyes. The attention seeking gremlin of a cock that it is makes itself known, pulsing more by the second that it's under Buck's gaze. He just licks his lips and says, “Save that for tomorrow.” 

Buck takes his leave with a wink. Eddie takes a full couple of minutes to process before continuing his previous task, the reason he's actually in here for. Chim might send out a search party if he spends any more time.

The ambulance gets restocked and Hen says yes to the sleepover.

-

Christopher becomes sick overnight.

It's just his goddamn luck.

-

Christopher: why are you gay

Eddie: How did you know? 

Christopher: soz wrong person

Christopher: erm. what dat mean

Eddie: Who were you trying to send that to?

Eddie: Also what does ‘what dat mean’ mean?

Christopher: don't change the subject Father. 

Eddie: I'm gay :/ 

Christopher: 

i'm shocked 

jk not really 

i'm proud of you. sorry it was in text responding to a meme :(

Eddie: It's okay. It actually helped to have to do this casually. 

Christopher: np i guess

Christopher: 🫵🏳️‍🌈

Eddie: ☝️🏳️‍🌈

Eddie: 🤚🏳️‍🌈

Christopher: you tried ur best

-

118 groupchat

Buck: need tomorrow's shift off

Chimney: And you couldn't message me this directly because?

Buck: well you don't answer me when i need you to

Hen: Why do you want the time off?

Buck: i'm taking chris to the griffith observatory

Eddie: Why am I not invited? He is literally my son.

Buck: you're working

Eddie: So are you??????

Chimney: For the bit, I've decided to allow this time off. 

Chimney: You will not be missed.

Eddie: He will be.

Ravi: dude

Buck: thanks i guess

Chimney: You would say that, wouldn't you Eddie? 

Eddie: What dat mean?

Buck: did chris kidnap your phone

Eddie: No, but he did teach me what it meant. 

But yeah, what do you mean by that?

Hello?

Eddie: Why am I always being edged like this?

Buck: if the shoe fits

Hen: I’m not even going to ask

Chimney: I'm feeling homophobic all of a sudden.

-

He and Buck hardly see each other outside of work for the next week. It's unceremoniously busy that he considers cancelling plans for this Thursday's wine night just so he can see Buck instead. 

It has been so lonely without him. They haven't been this physically separated in years; he just about wonders who he pissed off to warrant the karma he's experiencing. Maybe it's all a part of Buck's masterplan, purposefully strategising all this so the wait would be even longer, it's likely that given the whole spontaneous trip with Christopher. 

Or maybe it's just karma for not turning around in the first place.

Either way he's so fucking hard and deliriously untouched that he considers resorting to desperate measures. Like going to Buck's house instead of the desire of doing whatever at his.. Hasn't even been that long since the couch thing happened but he's been pent up long before all of this.

The house is near pristine now. Buck would be pleased to know that at least.

And then Eddie gets sick himself and the wait is even longer. 

-

Buck: your ass looks so good in the turnouts. 

Eddie: Buck.

Buck: thinking about you being bent over the couch

eager for me to do something

were you hoping i'd spank you eddie?

Buck: answer me

Eddie: I'm going to come if you continue. 

Buck: wow you are so easy

Eddie: This is entirely your fault. 

Buck: you're really about to come while at work, you're a changed man diaz

Eddie: I'm not doing anything at work. It was a figure of speech.

Buck: sure okay. your boner is currently whispering to me right now saying you're a liar

Eddie: Stop perceiving it. I'm going to the toilets, do not follow me.

Buck: buzzkill :/

-

“I'm doing a lot better,” Buck shares over the phone. “Therapy's great, who would've thought.”

Since Texas, they've kept the ritual of facetiming during meals in the times of being apart where they'd otherwise eat together. It's one of those times; Buck's on a shift hanging out in the loft, and Eddie's cooking his and Christopher's dinner.

Eddie pauses the chopping of cabbage and leek to respond, “I could've told you that, Buck. I'm glad to hear it.”

“Thanks baby.” 

He drops the knife by accident. It's the first use of a petname and it surprises him. Eddie glances over Buck's shoulder in case any of their coworkers are about, not that he's embarrassed about the high rise blush on his cheeks or anything. 

It's none of their damn business.

Eddie clears his throat, aiming for casual. “No problem, uh, babe.” 

Feels a bit unnatural but he wants to match Buck's energy, it's trial and error with whatever term fits best.

The tones go off before Buck can say anything to that. He ends the facetime with his signature byebyebye but added with blown out kisses this time that's typically reversed for Maddie and her children. 

Eddie's grinning long after the call, the vegetables as the only witnesses to his sappiness.

-

Christopher books himself a spontaneous sleepover at his friend Kasey's house. It happens so quickly that he doesn't get the chance to notify Buck since he already knows.

Buck: chris at the sleepover yet?

Eddie: Yeah, just left. Kid's so sporadic I didn't even know about it until about twenty minutes ago. 

Let me guess, he told you before me?

Buck: yeah. he's also told me how much you've been missing me. is that true eddie??

Eddie: Yes, you already know this. Come over.

Buck: eager beaver. im approaching your front door right now as it so happens 

Eddie opens the door prematurely. He doesn't even care that he looks ridiculously down bad or whatever the kids say nowadays. Not that he's old or anything. Buck laughs when he comes into view.

“A grand entrance for me? That's so sweet of you,” greets Buck as he steps through the front door past Eddie.

Eddie is not thinking about the word choice when he replies with, “I'll show you a grand entrance.” 

Buck angles his head slightly. Interest as bright as the look on his face. “Oh, I imagine you will, princess.” 

Princess. He can't control the flutter in his heart at the petname, hearing it in a positive light instead of the derogatory manner in New Mexico. It heals something in him that he hadn't known needed healing. It also wakes up his dick from its brief slumber. 

“Eddie?” 

Buck's finally here alone in his damn house after weeks, outside of brief visits, and he's getting distracted. Still standing in the doorway like an idiot, he comes backwards into the house properly by like one whole step when he's shoved up against the door, slamming it closed. At least he's facing Buck this time round.

I need to climb this man like a tree, like, yesterday. 

A hand slides up beside his head and another on the door next to his waist. Buck's not touching him at all. Just hovers in his space and holds intense eye contact. So infuriating but exhilarating all the same.

It's a competition to see who breaks first.

“Hey,” says Buck smoothly like he has spent time practising the art of being suave. Refining his firehose days.

“Can you fucking touch me already?” 

Buck doesn't hesitate in being a little shit. “I have, remember? I pushed you against the door like twenty seconds ago. Besides, we haven't even kissed yet, shouldn't we check that off the list?” 

He has a point - a really great point. Been too busy thinking with his cock to remember that they’ve jumped the gun a bit, skipped to the edging before even exchanging saliva or whatever. 

“You're right, we should do that,” suggests Eddie. 

It's awkward when neither of them move at first. Buck slides a hand behind his head, curling his fingers in his hair instead, and the other on the favourite worn-out belt. “Must I do everything around here?” he asks. “Yeah, but you're into it so don't complain.” 

Buck noses at the side of his face, breath hot in his ear. “I'm not the one complaining and whoring myself out at any given opportunity, Eddie.” 

He ignores the blatant blush spreading to his cheeks, but with the growing situation going on down south he cannot. “I wouldn't have to if you'd just do something already.” 

It must've sounded too serious because there's genuine worry in his eyes when Buck asks, “are you actually annoyed with me?” 

Eddie meets his eyes. “No, but I will be if you don't move. Maybe I'll just fuck myself in front of you if you need further prompting.”

He can't blame him for the question, they haven't exactly discussed the intricacies of this. Or hardly any of it actually beyond the flirting and insinuations. It's easy to be caught up in the fantasy of it all and not wanting to shatter the moment. 

They're on the same page - always. There's little doubt about that.

“Only I am allowed to touch you,” states Buck.

Buck nibbles at the shell of his ear, curling his fingers in Eddie's hair. It's different to what Eddie had expected him to do but he will not object, not at all. There's something so attractive about the unpredictable.

There's a pause before Eddie pulls his face sideways for the kiss. It's soft upon impact, the taste of mango chapstick coats his lips. It's clear that Buck's madly obsessed with the fruit based on this and hair products alone, and well, he's madly obsessed with Buck. It's well worth the eight years long wait regardless of the opinion of mangoes. 

Wild to think that it's taken this long.

As you'd rightfully assume, Buck fully takes over. He licks at Eddie's lips before nibbling on the bottom one, pulling on it then shoving his tongue into his mouth. It's so much input in the span of like fifteen seconds, Eddie's already overwhelmed and quickly approaching half-mast. He doesn't quite know where to place his hands, opting for the classic and safe tugging hair and shoulder combination. 

“Up to your standards?,” Buck questions against his mouth, diving right back in afterwards and swallowing any chance of a response. He wouldn't be getting one anyways.

Eddie starts clawing at Buck's shoulders, itching to take his shirt off or something. Buck complies at the request with a throw of the shirt behind him, somehow accurately landing on the couch. He's pulling Buck towards him, pressing further into the door where the handle digs into his hip. The movement of Buck wedging his knee in between Eddie's legs replaces any pain he could be feeling as his cock soaks up all the attention.

It's so fucking delicious.

He glides his hands up and down Buck's naked back, and it feels so good and real under his fingers. Beats the imagination by a mile and then some. It takes no time for him to start grinding down on the knee, slow and meticulous, taking a page out of Buck's book.

“Fuck,” is the first thing said in several minutes and it's from Eddie. His shirt is already yanked off and the belt fully unbuckled, and in the process of being removed when Buck firmly holds his clothed cock for the first time. “Oh my god.” 

Buck breathes out, mesmerised. “So pretty and hard for me, I can see your cock so visibly through those jeans.” 

You really can't, the material is too thick for that. It's denim and specifically heavyweight, chosen because he personally prefers the pressure on his legs. Buck interrupts the mental correction with an unzipping of Eddie's pants, dragging it out by the second. It's a constant grazing of his cock there's no wonder he hasn't come already. It's about due time.

“Please touch me properly, Buck.” 

Buck smiles at him. “With pleasure, princess,” he says as he pulls down both briefs and pants in one fell swoop. Eddie is wholly exposed and he can feel the chill of the room on his lower half. 

“Oh wow,” admires Buck. 

Eddie tracks Buck's movement down to the drop of the knees. He's making direct eye contact with his cock which throbs at the attention. Buck plants a gentle kiss to the tip, too delicate for this scenario but Eddie's toes curl in his shoes anyhow.

It's agonisingly slow, the tongue licking up the underside of his cock. Certainly savouring the taste, he assumes. Eddie attempts to move this further along with a gesture when Buck slaps his hand away. The hands obediently place themselves on the door instead, yearning to touch anywhere else.

“You're being so good for me, Eddie. I knew you would be.” 

Eddie lets out a higher-than-you'd-expect whine. He finally places his mouth around the entire cock, reaching up to Eddie's hands to indicate you're allowed to touch me now then places them on Eddie's asscheeks. Mission fucking received. He roughly tugs at Buck's hair as his head falls back with such a loud thump it echoes in his ears.

Unlike the rest of the foreplay, Buck's head bobs up and down at such a rapid speed that Eddie feels whiplash. It's reassuring to know that Buck's been as desperate as himself; mostly self-inflicted at that. 

“Buck,” he says breathlessly. Buck's successfully sucking the life out of him and Eddie can't even usher out some praise or anything. Words evaporate from his brain, but he tries anyway. “You're doing so good.” 

There's a subtle nod to the flattery. Buck halts, glancing up with precum smearing the edges of his lips. He gestures two of his fingers in the direction of Eddie's head from shoulder level since it is the highest he can reach on his knees. 

“Suck.”

“I thought that's your job,” he responds instantly without much thought. Mourning the mouth on him already, it's making him feel brave to be impudent, that's what got him here. But there's a high chance that Buck would edge him even more and he's only just gotten this; the risk isn't worth it right now with how aroused he is.

But then again, baiting Buck is his favourite pass time.

“Don't make me ask you again.”

Eddie complies, leaning down to greet the fingers with his lips right as Buck resumes his own sucking. Holy fuck. A bit of drool slips out mid moan, it'd be embarrassing if he didn't know that Buck never judges. He's too busy to comment even if he wanted to. 

It's been steadily building the whole time however the sudden readiness to come still surprises him. 

“You aren't allowed to cum,” commands Buck. He must've sensed that Eddie would be that close, feeling it deep in his throat. “I'm going to finger you and then we'll see.”

Eddie murmurs an audible please around the fingers. They're not lubricated enough, and Buck must sense this because he pulls them out of Eddie's mouth and into his own, ditching the strained cock altogether. 

He feels so empty. “Please,” Eddie pleads again.

On the brink of an orgasm and he's not permitted to fucking come. It's right where he wants to be, reminding himself repeatedly when it's almost unbearably torturous.

Warm, wet fingers tickle his rim. It feels a little odd but very familiar, he has done this enough times, especially the past weeks, to know the sensation well.

Buck slips the first finger in, holding eye contact the moment it breaches the hole. He hums into Buck's neck now that he's standing and holding Eddie up by the legs around his hips. Eddie starts peppering kisses in appreciation.

“Keep going,” Eddie says in encouragement. 

Another digit is added and Eddie's starting to feel it. His cock is impossible to ignore, absentmindedly rutting up against Buck's bare stomach but they manage, but at least Buck's in the same predicament if not worse. How Buck hasn't come yet, he isn't to know.

A third finger is an entirely new sensation - new territory. Eddie's only done two himself before deciding from impatience that would be his personal limit, it didn't feel this good alone.

Eddie's whole body practically jumps once the fingers reach his prostate. He utters nonsensical babble, a string of oh my gods and buck buck buck buck. Nails scratching the fuck out of Buck's back.

Buck's relentlessly fingering him now that the initial tease is over. “Taking me in so well, baby. So desperate to be touched you're letting me finger you against the front door.”

His brain feels like mush as he says, “uh huh. Bet you could f-fuck me here too.” 

Buck hums, contemplating. He replies, “very tempting but I plan on spreading you out on a bed, having you begging for my cock when I fuck you properly for the first time.” 

“Take me to bed.” 

“Hmm…” 

Eddie kisses him. Their lips misalign too much from the thrusts to qualify as a decent one but it ranks as one of the best kisses of Eddie's life anyhow. 

He grabs Buck's cock, firm touch in palm. It's more familiar than he expected, feels like he already knows everything about him, even this. Like Buck's ingrained into his bones long before they ever met. His birthday falls on the day after Buck's, a gift for a one year old who wouldn't know it until twenty-seven. 

Sentimental and horny is an interesting combination. 

He thumbs at the slit of Buck's cock, licking off the precum there then lets go. Just a little something for the road. The road hopefully being the bedroom if he's lucky, he may have risked the chance by acting on his own volition. 

Buck groans at the unexpected contact on his cock. It's apparently the right move because he says, “come for me, Eddie, right here on our stomachs.”

Thank God. 

He complies with fucking pleasure. Riding out the orgasm is one of the most intense experiences of his life, made better by the scissoring fingers in his asshole cheering him on. 

Eddie's still moaning when the feeling of the fingers suddenly vanishes. It's immediately explained when he's hoisted much higher in Buck's arms, now in a bridal carry.

“Good boy. It's time for your reward,” says Buck as he moves them from the front door with finesse.

The clothes discarded on the ground watch them leave. It's a short-ish distance to the bedroom and once they reach the destination, Eddie's dropped onto the bed delicately. He's not fragile but he surprisingly likes being treated as such.

He can't get enough of Buck's mouth on his, refusing to separate even when they should be getting a move on. Haven't stopped since they moved away from the door. Buck adjusts them so they're further up the bed, reaching into the bedside drawer for the lube with his eyes closed. Naturally knows where everything is, including Eddie's prostate evidently.

“You look so perfect beneath me like this.” 

Eddie loves being underneath him too. Being pressed into the sheets by a man larger than him has always been one of his secret fantasies, now he's living it. It kickstarts his arousal back up.

“You're so fucking hot,” Eddie blurts out. It's not his usual line but damn is it true. 

Buck's cock is impossible to miss now. It's nudging Eddie in his lower come-coated stomach, practically adding to the pile. Buck's supposedly good at ignoring it, trained himself or something. Barely blinks when Eddie holds the cock in his hand, fucking huge and very much leaking. 

It's incredibly messy and he swallows every single drop that spilt onto his hand.

The assumption is proven to be untrue, however, when Buck mutters out, “I will come if you jerk me off.”

“Lube me up now then. Fuck me. Please.”

Buck doesn't fight him on the order. He covers his fingers in the lubricant and goes to fucking town on Eddie's hole. It's so different to the substitute of spit, slicker and hurts a lot less now that he really thinks about it. The roughness never bothered him as much as it probably should.

“Facing me?” asks Buck. 

He doesn't need clarification on what Buck is asking. “Yes. I also want to watch you while you come. Inside me, preferably.” 

Buck spurts out precum in reaction. It's a surprise, perhaps unprecedented, based on the shock on Buck's face. 

“I guess you're down for that idea,” Eddie says almost dumbly.

Buck only moans in reply.

There's a pillow shoved underneath Eddie's lower body. Buck modifies Eddie's position to the most ideal one and then he wastes no time aligning his cock to the entrance of Eddie's hole.

Eddie watches Buck mentally and physically brace himself before sliding in the head. Oh sweet Jesus. He should've braced himself properly too, the thickness of the cock stretches his hole more. It burns and he just needs a minute.

Buck also does too based on the sweat smothering him. The struggle of willpower not to immediately shove himself all the way in and start fucking Eddie is written on face.

“All good?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah. But uh, once I start, I'll last like thirty seconds max.” 

“Underachiever.” 

Buck shoves two fingers into Eddie's mouth in retaliation. “Just be silent.” 

Eddie nibbles on them. They're drenched in sweat but he frankly doesn't fucking care - nor the fact that there's no point in doing this. If Buck shoves something in him he'll do his damn best to appreciate it. Savour every drop of Buck that there is to collect. 

He snatches the fingers out of Eddie's mouth and replaces it with his tongue. 

Buck slowly glides in the rest of his cock, near enough bottoming out. It satiates the part of Eddie that felt perpetually empty, filled to the brim with cock it has him choking out a holy fuckkkk.

“God, you're so tight.”

Eddie's hands find themselves on Buck's back once again, the scratchmarks already formed from earlier have reopened. He wants to plant kisses on them as if to heal them quicker, only hopes that Buck likes it a bit rough the same as him.

It's the longest minute of his life, the time between the stagnation and the initial pull out.

Buck searches into Eddie's eyes, finds the answer to the unasked question and hammers his cock home. The thrusts in and out are swift but precise, reaching the right spots each time that it has Eddie shaking and moaning beneath him.

He's getting fucked so good he can see stars behind his fucking eyelids. There's nothing going on in his head, vacant and peaceful and foreign. It's an entirely new state of being.

“Buck.”

“Yeah?” 

Eddie forces his eyes open, tangling his fingers into Buck's hair. Purposeful. “I love you.” 

Buck comes on the spot and without warning. It fortunately lands right where Eddie wanted it to, deep in his asshole. Goddamn. Wants the visual of seeing the excess come leak out later once he's moved from this position.

“Eddie,” Buck moans out.

It's so undeniably hot that Buck came from the confession; it makes him also come in rapid succession. Untouched. It's one of the many firsts for him today apparently.

His ears are ringing way too loudly from his orgasm that he misses some of Buck's words. “-not believe you said that.” 

“What?” 

Buck's beaming above him and it's the most beautiful sight. “I cannot believe you said that for the first time while I'm literally inside you.” 

Eddie genuinely asks, “When else?” 

He's being kissed thoroughly. In the middle of pulling Buck closer, he gets a physical reminder of a tug downstairs that there's a cock buried inside him still. He doesn't plan on mentioning it unless Buck does, it can stay there as long as it wants.

“I love you too,” confesses Buck. 

Buck reluctantly pulls out and lays beside Eddie, reaching over to the tissue box on the bedside table. He cleans them both up quickly and proficiently. “Water?” 

Eddie realises this is aftercare. Or just care in general. He's not knowledgeable enough in terminology of sex to know what this falls under. He's somewhat floaty still and that's all he knows really, maybe he'll ask Buck about it all later. 

“Yeah, thanks. That'd be great,” Eddie responds.

He's sat up in bed by the time Buck returns with their glasses of water. Takes gentle sips as Buck joins him in the bed, ending up unintentionally hiding the headboard with how large he is.

“Was that alright for you?,” Buck queries. 

“Absolutely. How about you?” 

Buck takes a large gulp of water before putting the glass down. He places a hand on Eddie's cheek, rubbing it and thumbing at his bottom lip. “Yeah, except when I embarrassed myself by coming on the spot when you told me you loved me for the first time.” 

“I'm not sure if you noticed but that reaction made me come right after so it's okay.”

Buck laughs a little, like out of disbelief, and replies, “I hadn't. That's so fucking hot, Eddie, I cannot believe I missed that.” 

“There's always next time. Are you going to come each time I say I love you?” he asks.

“That'd be awkward in public and literally anywhere else,” answers Buck. It would be but it'd be so incredibly hot that he'd probably come as well in kind

Eddie also puts his glass down. “It's not like you to back out of a challenge, Buckley. Aside from when you flunked out on the opportunity to spank me.”

Buck points a finger at him in glee, all excited as he exclaims, “I knew you wanted me to spank you.” 

“Like you didn't already know,” says Eddie. He can't imagine otherwise, a full on neon sign saying fuck me would be less obvious than his display. 

“Yeah, I just wanted you to admit it. I enjoyed leaving you wanting more, desperate and pathetic. It's exactly how I want you.” 

Crazy how fast Buck's tone can change in a conversation.

Eddie whines, stares at Buck for a long beat before kissing him immediately with tongue. Buck meets him in kind. He's absolutely easy, desperate and pathetic, Buck's right about that, even without the edging and baiting. 

That's just Buck's effect on him.

It's incredible how much Buck fundamentally knows him, knows what he needs without ever discussing it. Sex is one of those things that they hadn't really spoken about prior to some months ago, something about them both being out and long-term singles helped break the ice on the subject. 

It is horrifying to imagine what Tommy is like in bed. Or any other of Buck's exes for that matter.

Buck pulls away first, mouth lingering right by Eddie's. “Shower then round two?” 

“Yeah. I'll race you to the bathroom,” says Eddie, because he loves to set a challenge directly or otherwise. 

“You're on.” 

-

118 group chat

Buck: i'm thinking of buying you lingerie. thoughts?

Chimney: No thanks, Buck. I don't want to explain to Maddie that her brother bought her husband lingerie. 

Buck:

???

oh

my bad guys ignore that

Hen: Who e

Chimney: You scared her so much she couldn't even finish her sentence.

Eddie: Lingerie??????

Buck: yeah

Eddie: Cool.

Chimney: This is information about my employees/family that I absolutely needed to know 👍

Buck: sorry chim

Eddie: Take notes, Chimney.

Chimney: Excuse you, Diaz. I don't need notes on how to satisfy my wife.

Eddie: Thought it'd be helpful to hear it from a wife's perspective, that's all.

Buck: woah is anyone else seeing this???????

Ravi: i regret changing shifts 

-

Eddie: I want it in lilac.

Buck: whatever my wife wants she gets