Archive of Our Own ^beta

Buck is so happy for Eddie, he really is. When he came back from Texas, Eddie looked like he had a weight off his shoulders, a spring in his step. He assumed it was because he made up with Chris and finally brought him home, but it was more than that. Eddie didn’t go back to his old usual self once enough time had passed. He stayed happy, and light, and unburdened. 

It was strange to see, because Buck didn’t know what was responsible for this shift. Not bad, of course. Buck would never be upset about seeing Eddie happy. He just wasn’t used to being in the dark about what was going on with Eddie. 

He only discovered what was going on when they were having lunch at the station one shift. Bobby had made meatloaf, with mashed potatoes courtesy of Buck, and everyone threw themselves at it as soon as he set it on the table. Eddie conveniently waited until everyone had their mouths full to say, “Hey, um, I just wanted to let you guys know that, well, I’m gay.” 

Buck choked - a half-chewed piece of meatloaf getting stuck in his throat that Hen had to force out with a few hard claps on the back. He wasn’t the only one caught off guard, the rest of them were struggling to get their food down so they could address what Eddie just said. Meanwhile, Eddie was shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth. 

“Wow, Eddie. That’s…really great to hear. Did you figure this out recently?” Hen said after she finished swallowing. Buck was glad she took the lead in this conversation, because he had no idea what to say, how to react to this information. It felt like his world just got tipped on its axis and now everything was upside-down. Eddie, his straight best friend Eddie, was gay. He was gay which meant he was attracted to men. Eddie was attracted to men. 

“Yeah, you know, I was thinking about some things in my life and just realized - I’m gay,” Eddie responded nonchalantly while he still had food in his mouth. Bobby recovered next, “Well, we are very happy for you Eddie,” allowing the rest of the team to chime in with their approval. 

“Did this happen while you were in Texas?” Chimney asked, raising the question that was undoubtedly on everyone’s minds. 

“Yeah, well, nothing like visiting your hometown to make you have some epiphanies,” Eddie shrugged. He was acting so casual about this. Not like Buck thought he would be. “These mashed potatoes are really good, Buck. You think you could make this for Christopher?” Eddie said, looking up at him while he shoved more of it in his mouth. It’s only now that Buck realized Eddie hadn’t really looked at him at all during this conversation. Buck had just been sitting there, staring at Eddie since he – since he came out . 

Then he realized he’s the only one who hadn’t said anything yet. Everyone else is looking at him expectantly. Eddie glanced back at his plate, like he’s pretending he doesn’t care about Buck’s reaction. But of course he did care. Buck shook himself out of his daze. He had to say something, make sure Eddie knew he was happy for him, that nothing would change between them. Just like Eddie did. 

“That– that is so amazing Eddie! I’m really proud of you,” he finally said, looking Eddie in the eyes when he looked back up at him. “And I’ll definitely make these for you and Chris next time.”

Eddie smiled softly, looking reassured, before he resumed stuffing his face. It was clear he wanted to move on from this conversation now that he had come out. 

Buck could not stop thinking about it. He recalled conversations he had with Eddie, things he had said, his relationships with his girlfriends, putting the pieces together until they formed a complete picture. It does make sense that Eddie was gay, he should’ve seen that one coming a mile away. 

What he couldn’t quite grasp was how Eddie had come to this revelation. What happened in Texas that made him aware of his inclinations? Did he meet someone there - someone from his childhood, maybe, a friend that he was a little too close with, a friendship that confused him when he thought too much about it? Or was it someone new - someone who grabbed his attention and made the first move, who showed  him that this was a possibility? Buck couldn’t get it out of his head. 

He especially couldn’t understand why Eddie had not said anything before. Was he thinking about his sexuality before he went to Texas? If he was, why hadn’t he mentioned anything to him? 

Buck felt haunted since that day, the thoughts following him around, making him think about Eddie constantly - even more than he usually does. The thoughts followed him to where he is now - sitting at the bar of a gay club, waiting for his drink while he stares at Eddie across the room. 

A few weeks after Eddie came out, they decided to go out to celebrate. Eddie resisted at first, saying something about how he was too old to go out like that, but he gave in under the pressure from all sides. And now here they are. 

His drink lands in front of him, a simple vodka cran, but he pays no mind. He knows Hen and Chim and the rest are waiting for him back at their table, but he can’t take his eyes off of Eddie. 

A guy had gone up to Eddie when he was at the bar getting another drink for himself. Buck hadn’t heard their conversation, too quiet and far away from where he was sitting at the booth. He only saw how the man leaned into Eddie, lowering his head just enough to get eye level with him, and started talking to him. And Eddie talked back, letting him into his space. 

The man was flirting with Eddie; it was so obvious. Buck didn’t know what he was thinking because Eddie was definitely out of his league. But Eddie didn’t seem to think so, obviously, since he was smiling back at him, batting his eyelashes and everything. There was a light blush developing on his cheeks, making them rosy and sweet. 

This stranger reached out and put a hand on Eddie’s arm where it was bare and exposed. Buck could imagine how warm his skin was at that moment, and this guy was touching it. He trailed his hand down his arm until it reached Eddie’s hand, tugging on it in a clear invitation. And Eddie, he looked down and laughed bashfully. He grabbed his drink and downed it in a few gulps, then let himself be led into the dance floor, where he was immediately surrounded by pulsing bodies.

Hen had noticed his staring, following his gaze to where Eddie was lured into a dance with a man he didn’t know. 

“Wow, he’s pulling already. That was fast,” she laughed.

Buck didn’t think it was funny. He didn’t think Eddie would be into dancing with a stranger at a club, but he was looking at evidence that suggested otherwise.

Now, Buck is stuck at the bar, where he has the best view of Eddie, watching as he lets himself be touched by another man. The man has his arms around his waist, pulling him closer against him. Eddie’s arms are around his shoulders, swaying with him to the rhythm of the music and the push and pull of the people around them. The hands move down slowly, until they’re on Eddie’s ass, and he squeezes, feeling the softness and fullness of it. Eddie tilts his head back, eyes hooded as he shifts his hips forward, turning their sway into more of a grind. 

There’s a burning inside Buck’s chest, threatening to spread to the rest of his body, into his head until it’s so full it explodes. 

The bodies around Eddie move and throb, until he notices one of them come closer to him. Another man dances up behind Eddie. The movements are natural, like he just followed the sway of the crowd until he ended up right against him. 

Eddie notices him when he puts both his hands on his hips. He turns his head to the side, assessing the man behind him. Evidently he’s satisfied with what he sees because he grins, turns his head back around and leans it back against his shoulder. Now he’s between two of these men, two of these strangers, their hands all over his body. Buck can see them gripping his hips and waist, pulling him to and fro. Eddie is pliant, letting himself be moved, pushing his hips into the man in front of him, then grinding his ass back. 

There’s a kindling in Buck’s gut, ready to burst into flames with a single spark. He should be happy for Eddie. He should be happy for Eddie . He looks so much happier now, free to finally go after what he wants – free to dance with random men at the club – without being plagued by self-doubt or fear.

But that’s not what Buck feels. Instead, he has burning hot frustration and rage building up inside him. He wants to stop looking at Eddie, stop staring at him as he gets manhandled and toyed with, but he can’t. It’s like staring at a car wreck: he just can’t look away no matter how hard he tries. 

“Buck, are you coming back?”

Buck is knocked out of his trance, looking away from Eddie for the first time and turning to Hen, who clearly came up here to check on what was taking him so long. She looks in the direction Buck was just staring at and chuckles, “You’re still staring at him?”

He can’t be here right now; he needs to go somewhere where he can just think by himself. He hands his drink over to Hen, “Sorry, just- bathroom,” and dashes across the room, making sure to avert his gaze from where Eddie is dancing. 

When he reaches the bathroom, which is empty thankfully, he splashes water on his face, trying to cool himself down. He feels overheated, unstable and unbalanced. He looks in the grimy mirror above the sink; he looks disturbed, like he’s seen something he shouldn’t have. 

He turns away and goes into a stall instead. No mirror for him to stare at himself in here, just him and his thoughts. He just needs to calm down. There’s no reason for him to be getting worked up over Eddie having a good time. How could Buck possibly judge him for just dancing, considering everything he’s done with strangers? He breathes in and out slowly, letting his heart slowly reach equilibrium. He’s fine – he’s just worried about Eddie’s safety, he doesn’t want him getting hurt because he jumped into the pool too quickly and recklessly, that’s all.

Before he can rationalize any further, the door to the bathroom bursts open. Feet shuffling and heavy breathing move straight past the sinks, past him, and into the furthest stall. Oh god, a couple obviously got too horny and had to find a place to let it all out, not even thinking to check if anyone else was in here. He’s been there before.

Just as he’s about to open the stall and make a hasty exit, he hears one of them say breathlessly, “I’ve never really done this before.”

He freezes. Oh no. Anything but this. He would recognize that voice anywhere. He could be dying at the bottom of the ocean and he would still recognize that voice. 

“What, sex in the bathroom? Or sex with a man?” the other man says. Is it the first man, the one who made the first approach at the bar, or the second one, who made a move when they were dancing?

“Both,” Eddie laughs. He doesn’t know what’s so funny about this. The guy didn’t even say anything funny. 

“Well then, let me show you a few things,” he responds. He sounds like a prick. Eddie isn’t a child, he doesn’t need to be taught anything, certainly not from a stranger who doesn’t know him at all.

The wet sound of mouths meeting and moving against each other is all Buck can hear right now. It’s deafening. Their clothes are shuffling against their skin, shoes skidding against the moist floor as they grind against each other. Soft noises are escaping Eddie, little moans that he’s never heard from him before. He knows it’s Eddie, even if he’s not hearing his voice; every sound coming from Eddie is familiar to him.

Buck can imagine that they look like now, the man with his arm around Eddie’s waist, probably groping him again, touching him in the most intimate places. Eddie is probably blushing, his eyes must be closed and his lips wet with saliva. He can picture it all so clearly in his head. 

“Ah– fuck,” Eddie moans quietly, their mouths smacking wetly as they separate. He’s probably pushing his head back against the stall. He hears a light thunk on the wall separating them. What did the man do? Did he grip him extra tight, did he grind his dick against Eddie’s, or maybe he’s taking the next step and rubbing his hand against Eddie where he needs it the most?

He is so close to them, but they have no idea he’s there. He’s just a few inches away, listening to Eddie panting and kissing this random guy - this guy who doesn’t deserve it.

“Can I– can I try something?” Eddie asks. He sounds nervous. He rarely ever sounds nervous. Then again, Buck has never heard what Eddie sounds like during sex. This is just as new to him as it is to Eddie.

“Sure, sweetheart. What do you wanna try?” the guy responds. Sweetheart. He doesn’t even know Eddie; why is he calling him sweetheart? 

There’s some shuffling, and Buck waits for a sign to tell him what they’re going to do, what new thing Eddie wants to try. He hears something hit the floor, and when he looks down, he can just see the bottom of Eddie’s boots through the gap at the bottom of the stall.

A breath catches in Buck’s throat, quiet enough that he can be sure he wasn’t heard. He covers his mouth with his hand anyway. He doesn’t want to hear a single sound that isn’t coming from Eddie.

 Eddie is on his knees right now. It’s so clear now what he wants to try. Buck can barely breathe. Eddie wants to give his first blowjob to a guy he met a few minutes ago in a club bathroom. He doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry. 

There’s a pit in his stomach, so deep and heavy that it’s weighing Buck down. He doesn’t know why he’s reacting like this. Of course Eddie wants to do something a little fun and reckless like this – he never got to properly explore his sexuality when he was young, not with the people he wanted, at least. He can’t fault him for that, for doing something he himself would have done not too long ago.

But all he wants to do is burst into the stall and pull Eddie off his knees, stop him before he can even get started, or, maybe he wants to push the guy out of the way and take his place. He can close his eyes and see the image in his head, of Eddie on his knees right now, getting his jeans dirty on the filthy floor, looking up at him with his big eyes, so warm and beautiful, his eyebrows furrowed, his expression vulnerable as he puts himself in Buck’s hands. But he’s not doing this for Buck. He doesn’t even know Buck is there to witness this.

Buck’s thoughts are interrupted, “Aw baby, this is what you wanna try? Are you sure you can handle that?”

“Do you want me to suck you off or not?” Eddie says in a voice that tells him he’s on the verge of getting annoyed and wants to get a move on. Of course Eddie isn’t putting all of himself in this stranger’s hands. He wouldn’t expose himself like that to someone he just met. This is just a fun sexual experience for him, not a night of passion and vulnerability. Eddie is allowed to have that, of course .

“Heh, I’m not saying no to that, don’t worry,” the guy responds, and Buck hears the inexplicable sound of a belt and zipper being undone. Is Eddie doing that, or is the guy doing it himself? More rustling of fabrics – he must be pulling his pants down just enough, pushing his underwear aside so he can pull his dick out. Is he big? Is he average? Would Eddie be able to handle it? How much is too much for him? 

“Well?” he asks. Eddie hums, and the sound of flesh touching flesh follows, a little wet. Eddie must have put his hand (or hands?) on his dick, stroking it slowly.

“I think I can work with this,” Eddie teases. There’s a wet mouth noise, and then spitting. For the first time Buck is made aware of his own dick. It’s probably been hard since he realized Eddie was in this bathroom with him, but now it twitches at the idea - the vision of Eddie spitting on this guy’s dick, getting it ready for his mouth. The stroking continues, wetter now. The guy groans, and Buck wishes he would keep his mouth shut. 

“Just, show me if I’m not doing it right, okay?” Eddie says, a little more shyly. Buck knows there’s no way for Eddie to do it wrong. If it was him, if Buck was in that position, he would reassure him, tell him that anything he did would feel good, because it was Eddie doing it. He would make sure that Eddie never felt unsure or insecure. 

Instead, the guy says, “Oh, I will.” He sounds cocky and smug. He should be grateful that Eddie chose him to experience this with. He should be thanking Eddie for being the first dick he chose to suck, of all the people in the club tonight. 

Buck clenches his eyes shut harder, pushing down the anger inside him. Even if he’s not the one on the receiving side, at least he’s here. At least he can be present to hear it, he can still share this moment with Eddie. It’s not just him and the stranger, it’s Buck too. Even if they don’t know he’s there, Buck knows. 

“Okay,” Eddie whispers, more to himself than the man, hyping himself up to make the first move. Buck would have stroked his face, run his fingers through his hair to let him know to take his time – there’s no rush. 

A pause, no one breathes, and then a slick sound, wetness against flesh. Did Eddie put him in his mouth, or is he licking him? God, if only he could see. 

“That’s it, try going down a little further,” the bastard says. So Eddie took him in his mouth. He hums in response, from deep in his throat. That would probably feel so good against his dick. He hears Eddie’s mouth move further onto his cock, releasing little breaths through his nose along the way. How deep is he in there? Is Eddie’s mouth full? Can Eddie feel him in the back of his throat?

The slurping sound of Eddie pushing himself onto the dick in his mouth fills the bathroom, back and forth, in and out. He’s letting out little whines now from deep within him, muffled but still audible, echoing off the walls so it’s all around Buck.

He can see Eddie in his head, how he looks right now – his lips stretched on the cock, all wet and slippery, his cheeks hollowing out as he sucks. Are his eyes scrunched closed in concentration? Or are they open and looking up, seeking out direction and assurance and praise. Did he put his hands on the man’s hips, to steady himself as he pushed deeper and deeper, or are they in his pants, trying to give himself some relief?

Buck opens his eyes; nothing in his sight has changed, except for his dick straining against his pants. So slowly, he reaches one hand down, and lays it down on his crotch where it’s throbbing. He can tell he’s leaking so much already. He knows it won’t take much, with the sounds and his imagination working in tandem to create the scene in his mind. Not yet though, not when they haven’t finished yet.

There’s a dry crunching sound, and Eddie gives off a high-pitched moan, and the slurping intensifies, becoming rougher and sloppier by the second. It’s like a puzzle that Buck has to complete, and these noises are the pieces that he has to put together so he can construct this image. A hand gripping Eddie’s hair, pulling him tight as the man starts thrusting into his mouth.

He can’t resist any more. Buck removes his other hand from his mouth and brings it down to join the other, carefully undoing his button and zipper, waiting for the right time when the noises coming from Eddie’s mouth get especially loud. He doubts they would hear him even if he did make a commotion – too absorbed in their own world, a world that Buck is on the periphery of. 

He slips his hand into his underwear. He’s so hard now, without a single touch on him. All he needs is the thought of Eddie, his presence just a few spaces away. He opens his mouth and lets a string of saliva drip down on his dick. Buck tries to time the strokes of his hand with the thrusts into Eddie’s mouth. He can almost pretend that the warm slick is Eddie, stuffing himself full, going as deep as he can on his cock. 

What a pervert he is. For some reason it’s only hitting him now. Here he is, hiding away in the stall like a peeping tom, listening to Eddie get his face fucked when he isn’t even aware. He should have left the bathroom ages ago. He should have let Eddie have this experience to himself, but instead he inserted himself in this, like he always does where Eddie is concerned. How is he supposed to look Eddie in the eyes after this?

He doesn’t stop though, keeps stroking and working himself up. The noises coming from Eddie are nonstop now, the pretense of keeping quiet lost. Buck has been tuning him out until now, but he hears the words streaming out of the man, a string of dirty talk: yeah, take it baby, take it all you slut, you love this don’t you? 

Buck is green with envy and red with fury. He has no right to talk to Eddie like that. Who does he think he is?

But, Eddie isn’t pulling off and telling him to fuck off, he’s not pushing him away and getting out of there. In fact, his moans increase in pitch and volume, sounding more desperate than ever. This is doing it for Eddie , getting spoken to like this, while he gets used in a public restroom. 

If that’s what Eddie likes, Buck could give that to him, better than this guy, better than anyone else in his place. He knows Eddie – he would know how to satisfy him.

Buck wants to fucking kill this guy. The grip on his dick gets tighter as he thinks about it more, brows furrowing in bitterness, how he’s not the one giving Eddie what he needs. He wants to storm into the stall and tear the man away, push him out of the way and lock him out so he can never touch Eddie again. Eddie deserves someone who would put their entire soul and body into his pleasure, someone like him . 

He’s right on the edge, he just has to hold out. He’ll wait for Eddie, so they can come together. The thrusting is getting harsher; he can hear the choking as the cock hits the back of Eddie’s throat. The man is groaning louder, working himself up to finish. 

“You ready? I’ll come in your mouth, yeah?” he pants. Buck almost growls out loud, but the sound would have been drowned out anyway by the affirming moan from Eddie. It only takes a few more thrust, and the guy exclaims, probably pushing himself deep into Eddie’s mouth for the release, no doubt pouring down his throat. 

Buck seethes. He pauses his strokes as it comes to an end. He hears Eddie gulping, struggling to swallow for his very first time – but he doesn’t complain, taking it so well, he knows. There’s a release, Eddie’s mouth finally coming free, and with it the sound of panting. He’s still hard; Buck can hear him stroking himself now, tempo increasing as he tries to cross the finish line. 

“Fuck, you did pretty good for your first time, baby,” he says. Buck wants to chop his dick off. “Get up, let me get you off.”

More rustling, and Eddie is brought to his feet. He’s still panting, not saying a single word yet. There’s a thud as he’s pushed against the stall wall again, the one Buck is leaning on. 

“Fuck!” Eddie groans, and keeps groaning as the man takes over. He’s so close to Buck, practically panting in his ear. He resumes his own strokes, matching the rhythm. “Come on, come on – I’m so close,” he utters through clenched teeth. 

“Yeah, you liked that, right?”

“Shut up and make me come,” Eddie grits, clearly losing patience while he’s still pent up and on the verge. The man chuckles, and starts going faster. So does Buck. They’ll come together, him and Eddie. It’s just them in here, the other man is just a tool – a conduit for the two of them to have this moment together. The dual wet sounds from their dicks are blending into one another, becoming a singular rhythm.

As soon as he hears Eddie come, he lets go, hand clamped tightly over his mouth to prevent himself from being discovered. In his mind, he has the both of them in his hand, joined together in the most intimate way possible, their come covering each other and mixing until they don’t know what belongs to who anymore. 

The only thing he hears now is the gulps of air Eddie is taking, deep breathes as he comes back down. Buck remains as still as possible, his hand still around his softening dick, come splattered on the wall of the stall and all over himself. He doesn’t know what the move is now. Does he run out while they’re still distracted? He has to clean himself up first so that’s not exactly an option. Does he wait them out? How long are they going to stay in the stall? Is there going to be aftercare?

The question is answered for him when Eddie finally speaks, “Thanks, man. That was good,” still trying to get his breathing under control. His voice – god his voice – is so hoarse now. Then he unlocks the stall and heads to the sink. The water starts running, and the man follows him out.

“What, no kiss goodbye?” 

Eddie chuckles, light and airy, like he’s high off everything that just happened. There’s a wet smack, and a release and Eddie says, “There you go,” before promptly walking out the door. The man is only in there for another minute to clean up after himself before he follows. Finally, silence.

Buck lets his hand fall away from his face, taking a big gulp of air now that he can breathe aloud. He keeps taking big breaths, trying to absorb what just happened – what he just did. Now that he’s alone, and now that he’s come, he can think much clearer. He can’t believe no one else came into the bathroom. Or maybe someone did come in, and none of them noticed, not with how absorbed they all were in the moment, even Buck. Maybe someone did come in, and they listened to the show, just like Buck did.

How can he come back from this? He basically violated Eddie’s privacy, even if they were in a public restroom. But, he doesn’t think there was anything in the world that could have made him leave in that moment. Actually, he thinks he should be present for all of Eddie’s future sexual encounters. Maybe he should be the only one present. 

Buck has never thought of himself as a possessive person. He can get jealous, sure, but it was never a detriment to his relationships. He always thought it was a little embarrassing when a man was so territorial over their partners – some sign of chauvinism that he never wanted to participate in. But now look at him: practically foaming at the mouth at the thought of Eddie, who’s not his boyfriend or husband or even fuck buddy, being intimate with anyone other than him.

Something about Eddie makes him lose his mind, makes all the usual brain functions that make him a reasonable human being start malfunctioning – like a single drop of water that snuck into his circuitry and tore the whole thing apart. 

When Buck calms down, he gathers himself back up, wiping away what he can with toilet paper and washing the rest of the mess at the sink. He stares at the mirror, at his sweaty face and crazed look in his eyes, then splashes water over his face, for extra measure. He needs to make sure he looks as normal and innocent as possible before Eddie sees him again. 

The club looks unchanged when he re-enters the fray. Buck doesn’t try looking for Eddie, just glances around to see if he catches his eye, but he’s nowhere to be found. It’s only when he reaches the booth where they were sitting that he spots him, sitting among their friends – like nothing happened, like he wasn’t just on his knees a few minutes ago. 

He looks carefree, just laughing with Hen and Karen like there’s nothing for him to be worried about. The guilt in him expands – he has no right to be jealous when Eddie is so happy now. He knows that he has to let Eddie do this for himself, let himself have fun, no-strings-attached, carefree sex without Buck hovering over him like a storm cloud.

There’s a smile on his face when he reaches the table, and Eddie looks up at him, his own smile growing into a grin at the sight of Buck. His heart clenches. 

“Where the hell have you been?” Eddie shouts so that he’s heard over the music. 

“Oh, you know, just, got lost in the crowd, dancing with some people,” he replies as casually as possible. “What– what about you?”

Eddie shrugs, “Just having some fun.” He says it like he’s telling a secret. He is, in a way. Eddie is having an inside joke with himself, completely unaware that Buck is in on the joke too.

“That’s great, Eddie,” Buck nods along, “That is exactly what you should be doing. Just having lots of fun.” He keeps nodding, more to reassure himself than Eddie.

“Yeah? You gonna help me with that, Buck?” Buck can’t decipher the look on his face when he says that, something between grateful and questioning and a third emotion he can’t identify.

He finally sits down next to Eddie, pushing him further into the booth. “Of course! And I’ll even be your wingman, if you want!” he suggests. Eddie just gives him the same cryptic smile. On the other side of Eddie, Hen says, “You going to have a hot girl summer, Eddie?” 

Eddie just tosses his head back and laughs, like that’s the funniest joke he’s ever heard. Buck stares at the stretch of his neck as he does it. “Yeah. Maybe,” he giggles.

Buck will just have to keep what he’s feeling in check. He won’t interfere with Eddie’s journey. He’ll learn to be happy for Eddie. 

During one of their 24 hour shifts, Buck enters the bunk room for a power nap after he finishes cleaning the engine to find Eddie in his usual cot, staring at his phone intently. The rest of the room is empty. Eddie doesn’t notice him coming in, too focused on whatever he’s doing on his phone. Buck slowly walks up to him. Eddie is laying down facing away from him, with his phone held up in front of his face. It’s only when he’s a foot away that he recognizes what’s on Eddie’s screen.

“Is that Grindr?”

Eddie jumps and emits a cute little yelp. He jumps up and turns around, holding his phone to his chest, but relaxes a little when he realizes it’s him. 

“Umm, no.”

Buck laughs, “Eddie, I know what Grindr looks like. You don’t have to be embarrassed.” 

“I’m not embarrassed!” he insists. “I just like to be private.” He does look a little embarrassed though, a light blush reddening up his cheeks. Buck doesn’t want Eddie to be embarrassed; he wants him to be shameless and free and happy and gay. He makes his way over to the bed across from Eddie’s and sits down gingerly.

“Are you - uh - putting yourself out there?” he asks tentatively. He doesn’t want to spook Eddie by calling attention to the fact that Grindr is for sex, and by extension, Eddie is seeking out sex – gay sex. Buck doesn’t really want to call his own attention to it either. Then he’ll have to think about Eddie having sex with a stranger – he’ll have to think about the other night, when Eddie got on his knees for a stranger. 

“I don’t know, man. Not really. Maybe I’m just evaluating the playing field,” Eddie justifies. Buck can’t help but snort, shaking his head in amusement. 

“Evaluating the playing field of…Grindr?”

Eddie lets out a big sigh, and flops back down on the bed. His hair haloes out on the pillow, looking so much browner on the white of the pillowcase. “Don’t make fun of me, I’m newly gay,” he mutters with a pout. 

Buck sighs too, “I’m not making fun, I promise. I just– I just want to help.” He pushes through his reluctance to offer his support. “But, Grindr?”

Eddie laughs, as if admitting how silly the situation is. “I mean, I’m basically a virgin right now. I need to catch up,” he says, smiling up at Buck.

Buck feels his dick twitch in his pants. If he didn’t feel guilty before, he absolutely does now. Here Eddie is, being vulnerable with him, letting him into his world, and Buck is getting turned on at the thought of Eddie being a virgin. There must be something unethical about that, right? He shouldn’t be getting turned on at the idea of Eddie being a virgin, especially since he knows he isn’t.

“Basically?”

A blush forms on Eddie’s cheeks, and he turns his head to the side so he doesn’t have to look at Buck’s face. “Well, to be honest, I may have had a little…fling with someone the other night when we all went out to the bar. In the bathroom,” he says to the wall, like he’s ashamed to tell him.

Buck is stone-faced. He has to pretend this is the first time he’s hearing about this, that he doesn’t know in intimate detail what Eddie got up to in the bar bathroom.

Instead, he laughs, “Wow! Eddie Diaz, having a quickie in the bar bathroom. Ha ha, that is - that is crazy! Wow! It’s - it’s not very like you, but, you know, this is the new you! New gay Eddie! Who has sex in bar bathrooms!” 

He doesn’t think he’s going to win an Oscar for his performance. Eddie turns his head back to look at Buck with his eyebrows raised. Yeah, he’s not acting strange at all.

Eddie sits up, coming face to face with Buck, looking at him from under his lashes. He speaks like he’s telling Buck a secret, “Well, we didn’t have sex sex. Just, some other stuff. Which is why I’m still basically a virgin. Cause the sex I had with women, you know, that didn’t really count. Since I wasn’t actually attracted to them. So the sex with – with men, that’s the real sex. And I’m just not sure how I go about…having it.” 

Now it’s Buck looking at Eddie strangely. “Okay, that is certainly a way of looking at it. But Eddie, what is it that you actually want right now?”

There’s a pause; a shift in the air. Eddie sighs, and looks at Buck in a way he’s never seen before - almost tender. “I don’t know. I guess I’m still figuring it out,” he says it wistfully.  “But I do think Grindr isn’t really for me,” gesturing to his phone, “Maybe I should just go cruising,” he chuckles lightly. Buck forces out a laugh, like the idea of Eddie going out in the big gay world again doesn’t make him want to die.

“Well whatever you decide you want, I’ll be right there with you,” he reassures Eddie, nodding along. He knows he’s trying to convince himself more than Eddie here. Whatever feelings he has for Eddie aren’t the priority; he knows that won’t go anywhere. But the least he can do is help Eddie with this, like a real friend would.

Eddie smiles, the apples of his cheeks rising and reddening as he beams at Buck. “Thanks Buck. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Buck’s breath catches. I hope you never have to find out. I hope you never have to be without me .

Eddie reclines back into the cot, closing his eyes and putting his hands behind his head as he gets comfortable again. “Now time to catch some actual sleep this time before the alarm goes off again.”

Buck continues staring at Eddie for a few seconds, letting his gaze trace over his face, the outline of his nose and lips, the way his uniform sits on his body. He’ll take what he can get. He’ll swallow down the sight of Eddie like he’s starving and Eddie’s image is the only food he can get. This is enough for him.

Finally, he snatches his eyes away, looks out into the room instead, and lays down in the bed, parallel to Eddie. He lets himself drift into sleep, but his thoughts stay on Eddie.

Buck never really needs a good reason to stay over at Eddie’s place. If it’s too late in the night, or Buck is too tired to drive, he’ll make his bed on Eddie’s couch. It’s become so familiar to him now, probably even more than his own. It’s definitely more comfortable than his own, even if he doesn’t fit all the way inside it. And even if it wasn’t comfortable, Buck would still want to be here. 

He stares up at the ceiling of Eddie’s living room from where he’s laying on the couch now. It was a normal day for them: Buck came over after Chris came home from school, he made them dinner, they hung out for a bit, Chris went to his room to do whatever it is he does online with his friends, Buck and Eddie watched a movie and drank some beers. By the time the movie ended, it was past midnight. So now here Buck is.

Sleep is not coming to him this particular night. He usually has no problem falling asleep here, but tonight he has too many thoughts occupying his mind. 

Eddie hasn’t mentioned anything about any extracurricular activities. He means sex; Eddie hasn’t said anything else about having sex with anyone. Maybe he’s already gone ahead and cruised his way into someone’s bed and had his gay cherry popped, and hasn’t told Buck about it. He’s not sure how he can broach the topic to Eddie without sounding like an over-involved creep, which is exactly what he is.

The image he constructed in his mind of the moment with Eddie on his knees in the restroom comes back to him when he closes his eyes. He doesn’t want it to, but it still plays on the inside of his eyelids like there’s a projector in his head. The sounds Eddie was making echo through his skull.

Buck sits up, tossing aside the flimsy blanket. He gets to his feet and starts pacing around the living room. Maybe if he tires himself out, his brain will stop thinking about Eddie. He makes about a dozen circles around the coffee table before he gives up. There’s no point – his brain has long been rewired to orbit around Eddie, like the Earth revolves around the Sun.

Against all thinking, Buck’s body moves on its own, down the hallway straight to Eddie’s bedroom door. He doesn’t really have a plan here, something inside him is just urging him inside, screaming at him to close the space between himself and Eddie.

The doorknob turns slowly, as Buck holds his breath and eases open the door. The bed is right there, and in it lies Eddie, silent and saintly. The curtains are open, and the moonlight fills the room with a soft, dark cast. He walks over to Eddie’s side of the bed after shutting the door quietly. He only sleeps on half of the bed, despite having the whole thing to himself. Buck doesn’t know if that’s a habit leftover from his married life, when Eddie and Shannon used to share a bed – though he’s not certain for how much of their marriage they had that opportunity – or from his military days. He’s curling into himself, shoulders hunched and arms shielding his chest, like he’s trying to protect something inside of himself. 

Buck lets out the breath he was holding at the sight of him. Eddie takes it away every time he looks at him. The floor is hard on his knees when he kneels down, but he doesn’t mind. Kneeling by Eddie’s bed like he’s at church – or rather what he imagines church is like – Buck feels as though he should be worshiping something. Someone. 

Greedily, he takes his fill of Eddie, tracing over the peaks and valleys of his face, taking in every grain of stubble and strand of eyelash. It would be redundant to say he’s beautiful, especially now, when his features are relaxed and delicate. His mouth is peaking open, revealing the soft wetness inside. Buck imagines slipping his fingers in there, poking around and exploring the unguarded tissue that can be so easily damaged.

He’s so defenseless right now – Buck is reminded of a deer, one who is innocent and clueless to the predators that lurk in wait, salivating at the chance to bite into it and savor its taste. He knows if Eddie opened his eyes right now, they would be big and full like a deer’s. He supposes he is the predator in this metaphor, and that thought makes him a little sick. He thinks of what Eddie would tolerate of him – what he would let him get away with. 

Buck remembers the basketball game when he sprained Eddie’s ankle in a misguided, confusing haze of jealousy, the violent collision of their bodies in mid-air when Buck threw himself at Eddie, and the sight of Eddie lying on the concrete like a martyr in old artworks. He looked beautiful then too, glistening with sweat and laid out in pain. Eddie hadn’t been angry with him afterward. Instead, he was worried that Buck had felt left out. 

An idea arrives in his mind. Buck pauses for a second, is he really going to go there? Before doubt can stop him, he reaches into the pocket of his sweatpants and pulls out his phone, opening up the camera. Is this what he does now? How is he going to live with himself after this if he does it?

One look at Eddie’s face is enough to chase away any reservations. He just wants to capture this beautiful little moment for himself. It’s the same reason people take photos of sunsets and rainbows. 

The moonlight is blue on Eddie, touching the edges of his face so gently. Buck checks to make sure his phone is on silent, even though it always is, before pointing it at Eddie. He’s like a painting - Buck can’t believe he’s real, that he gets to look at him like this, that Eddie trusts him enough to fall asleep where Buck is present. 

Buck captures the first photo, a close-up of Eddie’s face, and from there he can’t stop. He takes them from every angle – angles that probably shouldn’t look flattering but somehow still do on Eddie – and every distance. He takes zoomed in shots of his eyelids, thin and delicate, and his lips, so pink and wet. Buck feels his lips calling to him, and he can’t resist. He tentatively lifts his hand up to Eddie’s mouth, lightly running his finger along his bottom lip. He feels the moisture of his mouth wetting his finger, smearing more saliva across the surface, like he’s applying lipstick. Buck ever so slightly pushes his finger down against the lip, opening it up just a touch. Eddie sighs, but remains asleep. 

The soft, wet inside of Eddie’s mouth beckons him, and he lets his finger dip inside. It’s so warm inside, and Buck can imagine how warm it feels against other places. He doesn’t do much with his finger, just enjoys the view of it inside Eddie, pressing it against his tongue and running it along his teeth. His other hand is still holding the phone, and he takes more photos, focusing on the digit against Eddie’s soft lips and tongue, bending to the press of it. 

He’s probably taken 100 photos by now. He scrolls through them – a lot of them are the same photo taken over and over again – and Eddie looks just as beautiful in every one. All the while, Eddie sleeps away, oblivious to the depravity being displayed by Buck. 

This is a new level, even for Buck. He’s never considered himself to be a creepy person, but Eddie just shakes loose any grip he has on reasonability. How would he react if he found out what Buck did? Would he be disgusted? Or would he let him get away with this too? Would he find an excuse to let Buck off the hook, so he wouldn’t have to confront what kind of person his best friend is?

The phone goes back into his pocket, but Buck stays where he is. There’s no reason to move away, not when he has this chance to look upon Eddie without interruption. 

As if he jinxed himself, Buck hears a hitch of breath from Eddie. Slowly, his eyelids blink apart, again and again until they remain open, just barely. He doesn’t know what triggered Eddie to wake up – maybe he finally felt a disturbance in the air. There is still a cloud of drowsiness over Eddie’s half-lidded eyes. He’s barely awake, but he sees Buck right in front of him.

Buck is frozen. He was completely unprepared for what he would do if Eddie woke up, and now here he is. There is an excuse at the cusp of his lips, but he holds it back. He waits for Eddie’s reaction - will it be scolding or explosive or disappointed? 

Eddie is none of those things, still just silently absorbing the sight in front of him, his best friend inexplicably sitting at his bed in the middle of the night, presumably watching him sleep. 

“Buck,” he whispers like an exhale. “C’mere,” he slurs out. 

Buck isn’t sure if he’s hearing him correctly. He’s wondering if he’s the one in a dream. He just stays where he is, not wanting to bring attention to himself if Eddie thinks he’s just dreaming him. But then Eddie repeats himself. “C’mere Buck.” He gestures weakly to the spot in his bed behind him. 

He doesn’t know if he’ll ever have this chance again; Buck would be a fool not to take it. He gets up and climbs over Eddie as lightly as he can to land on the other side of him. Buck lays down on his back, straight as a rod and so stiff that he can barely get comfortable on the bed. What is the right move here? Is it safe for him to get closer to Eddie when he’s half asleep?

The question is answered for him when Eddie lets out a whiny sound, complaining about the distance still existing between him and Buck. An arm reaches around behind him, trying to urge Buck closer. It’s clear what Eddie wants here – something in his subconscious is reaching out for contact. 

What can he do but comply? How can he not give in to his own desires and Eddie’s latent requests?

Buck turns onto his side and inches himself closer to Eddie. He slots himself right up behind him, and they fit together like puzzle pieces, like this is the way they were meant to be. They were carved out with an intelligent design – to be joined together like this. His knees are tucked in behind Eddie’s, and his lips are touching the hairs on the back of Eddie’s neck. His arm tentatively makes its way around Eddie’s waist. 

He releases a shuddering breath, one that he’s been holding since he laid down, and it tickles the back of Eddie’s neck. Eddie squirms around in response, settling himself closer to Buck where he was still leaving a sliver of space between them. Buck was so afraid of what he would do if Eddie woke up while he was being a creep, and all he did was invite him to lay with him. 

Eddie is so warm from sleep, his skin heated and supple. Buck brushes his hand along the gap between his shorts and T-shirt, feeling the difference in temperature. He resists the urge to pinch the fat that surrounds his stomach, and instead just strokes it over and over again, wanting to memorize the texture there.

His nose runs against the flesh in front of him, until he feels safe enough to press into it and inhale. It’s a deep swallow of oxygen, one that he’s been craving for so long, and here Eddie is offering it up to him on a silver platter. The scent of Eddie fills Buck’s nostrils. It’s not perfumed or artificial, just the hint of his body wash lingers, but the rest of it is the pure musk of Eddie, the smell that is uniquely his. 

It’s intoxicating. It’s mouth-watering. It’s everything that Buck has dreamed of, right in front of his face. He takes another inhale and exhales a groan in response. He wants to bottle the smell, extract the essence of Eddie into a perfume he can carry on him at all times – spray it in his own face when he’s craving Eddie again so he can suffocate on it. He thinks if he stayed here long enough, in the delicious crevice of Eddie’s neck, he could get drunk off the smell.

“Eddie.” He says it just to say it, just to hear his name out loud. No one can hear it except him and Eddie. They’re sharing this chrysalis of body heat and sweaty sheets. Would they transform if they stayed like this long enough? Would their bodies, with their guts and bones and skin, come apart and melt together to create a beautiful new being? Buck would be so proud, so honored, if he could become part of Eddie like that.

As Buck’s breaths get deeper and deeper, he wraps himself closer around Eddie, arms cocooning him, hips shifting incrementally until he feels it, his own hardness pressed up tight against Eddie’s ass, a soft cushion for his dick to land. 

The contact snaps Buck out of his daze,  his mind and senses come back to Earth and he realizes how many boundaries he’s crossed. What the fuck is wrong with him – doing this to Eddie while he sleeps, practically humping him like he’s a rabid dog. 

Buck separates their hips, even though his dick is begging for the opposite. He tries to extract his arms too, but Eddie has grabbed onto them, keeping him locked in their embrace. Eddie groans plaintively and shuffles his hips back, back to where they were, right up against Buck’s hard-on.

“Eddie,” he whispers, with purpose this time. He doesn’t know what it will do – wake Eddie up completely so he realizes the position they’re in, so he realizes how Buck has been perving on him and ends their friendship forever?

“Buck,” Eddie answers back, still sounding sleepy, but cognizant. He is awake. He’s not moving subconsciously, but deliberately. 

There is a shift in the air, now that he knows Eddie is awake,  and Eddie knows Buck is awake. They can no longer blame this on the blurriness of sleep – every action is a decision. 

Eddie settles against him again with a sigh, gripping Buck’s wrist tightly so he has nowhere to go without disturbing the position they’re in. He shifts his ass back minutely, not enough to do anything, but enough for Buck to feel the friction. 

There is no handbook for how to act when your best friend starts rubbing up on you when they’re drowsy. Does he have any other choice but to give in and let himself have this? Would it be so wrong of him to indulge in this when Eddie is so clearly initiating it?

He gives up – wraps himself around Eddie again, lets himself bury his nose in Eddie’s neck again. He can have this just for this night. If Eddie doesn’t remember tomorrow morning – or wants to pretend he doesn’t remember – at least he’ll have had this. He will still have the sleepy scent of Eddie burned into his memory, the way his body feels when all his defences are down. 

His hard-on is forgotten; Buck just lets it rest against Eddie with no intention of getting off. How could he? There’s nothing he wants more than what he has right now – Eddie in his arms. 

They drift off like that, wrapped in each other. Buck doesn’t notice when Eddie falls deep into his sleep again, or when he dozes off as well. It feels like this bedroom has entered another realm, where nothing else exists and they both belong to the other. Buck wishes he never had to leave.

When they awake the next morning, neither of them acknowledges the night before. Eddie acts as though it’s any other morning when Buck stays over, like Eddie hadn’t caught Buck watching him sleep and they didn't spoon all night, and Buck follows his lead 

In Buck’s rare moments of self-awareness, he realizes that his behavior towards Eddie is not always rational or typical for a friend. He can justify it to himself though, because Eddie has never given any indication that he finds his behavior off-putting. Eddie isn’t the kind of guy who would tolerate that kind of thing. Even when they first met, Eddie had no problem confronting Buck about the admittedly childish way he was acting. 

He didn’t know if Eddie could tolerate this however. Buck is still sitting in his car, despite arriving at the club about 15 minutes ago. It’s a different one than the one they went with the team a few weeks ago, which is even more concerning for Buck. 

Maybe he should not have checked Find My Friends tonight, but he has a bad habit of looking at it when he has nothing else to do, just to make sure he’s not the only one sitting at home. Or maybe he just likes to keep an eye out on what Eddie and Chris are up to. 

Lo and behold, when Buck opened it up tonight, he was shocked to find that Eddie was not at home. Chris wasn’t either, but he was just a few miles away at an address Buck knew was one of his friend’s houses. Eddie, on the other hand, was much further away, in a part of town Buck knew was full of bars. Eddie never said anything about having any plans. 

So now here he is, contemplating if he’ll be able to find Eddie in the club without him seeing Buck. It isn’t stalking if Eddie is sharing his location with Buck.

Buck takes one final deep breath and exits his car, heading inside before he can stop himself. It’s crowded and dark and the air is heavy and hot from the sweat of all the dancing bodies. He doesn’t know how he’s going to find Eddie in here, so he heads over to the bar to at least get himself a drink while he thinks of a game plan. 

He needn’t bother, because as soon as he has the soda in his hand, he spots him. Eddie is on the other side of the club, in the middle of the dance floor. He can’t see him very well from where he’s watching, but Eddie stands out. It’s like there’s a spotlight shining directly on him, bouncing off his exposed skin and making him glisten. His hair is ungelled, some of it plastered to his forehead from the sweat. Eddie’s eyes are closed as he moves between the two men sandwiching him between them. He doesn’t look like he’s paying them any mind though. He looks blissed out, like his mind is somewhere else, free to wander around while his body stays here on Earth, moving on its own. 

He’s beautiful. Buck has had that thought before, countless times, but he is especially beautiful now. Not even the burning jealousy he feels at the sight of all those other bodies bumping and pressing against Eddie can stop him from being mesmerized. 

Buck would do anything to be there right now, right in the middle of it next to Eddie. He’ll push everyone else away, make them stare at what they couldn’t have instead. He can see his hands where the men’s hands are on Eddie’s body – the one behind him holding his chest, squeezing tightly on the fat and muscle there, the one in front of him caressing his waist, like he’s trying to measure the circumference of it with just his two hands.

As if his fantasies were being projected into Eddie’s head, calling for his attention, he opens his eyes and looks directly at Buck. There’s no reaction from him, he doesn’t even look that surprised to see him, somehow in the same bar he’s in on this Friday night. He just keeps looking.

Slowly, a smile grows on Eddie’s face – the same smile Eddie always has when he spots Buck, like he’s just happy to see him. There’s no suspicion in his eyes, no distrust or skepticism, just the pure joy of seeing his best friend. It makes Buck’s heart seize, with gratitude, with relief, with pleasure – he doesn’t have to do anything at all, just exist in front of him, just be in the line of sight of Eddie, to put that look on his face.

Eddie extracts himself from the gyrating funnel of men, slithering between them like oil until he’s free from the crowd and making his way over to Buck. He doesn’t have time to brace for impact or prepare a convincing lie before Eddie is standing in front of him, barely an inch away.

From here, Buck can see so much more clearly the sweat that has accumulated on Eddie like morning dew, coating his skin in a slick sheen. The tank top he’s wearing is tight on his body. He can smell it too, mixed with that innate essence of Eddie that he always has, and the mixture of colognes rubbed off on him from the men he was dancing with. 

“Buck!” Eddie exclaims, joy bursting out of him – his smile is so big and clear. He doesn’t follow it up with anything, just wanting to share his excitement out loud. He waits for Buck to answer, to greet him or act surprised or start explaining himself like a normal person would, but he doesn’t.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie picks up the slack in their conversation, finally prompting Buck to open his mouth.

“Oh- I was just- I just wanted to go out, you know. I didn’t have anything going on tonight and, you know, it’s been a while,” Buck fumbles through the explanation. Normally it wouldn’t make sense for Buck to say he wanted to go out and then not invite Eddie, but Eddie is here by himself too, without Buck. 

“Yeah? Well, me too,” he says, his grin shifting into a smirk. He looks skeptical, eying Buck like he doesn’t believe him – which of course he doesn’t, who would? Instead of questioning Buck, demanding to know how he ended up here at the same time and place as him, he looks at his face like he’s trying to uncover something, trying to see through Buck’s head and peer into his mind to figure out what Buck’s real intentions are.

“So, you’re- you’re cruising, huh?”

He doesn’t know why he said that. He doesn’t want to bring that up. 

Eddie just laughs, looking down with a little grin on his face. “I guess so. I haven’t actually gotten anywhere tonight.”

Buck looks at him curiously. It didn’t look like Eddie wasn’t getting anywhere by the way he was dancing. “What, no takers? I find that a little hard to believe.”

There’s a bashfulness to Eddie’s blush. He thinks he could identify and categorize all of Eddie’s blushes: the one from embarrassment, the one from physical exertion, and this one, Buck’s favorite, when he gets shy. 

“No, there have been offers. I just haven’t accepted them,” he admits. 

“Why’s that?”

“I…don’t know. I think I just wanted to dance,” he says, looking Buck in the eyes this time. He says it like it’s a confession, one that he trusts Buck with. The look in Eddie’s eyes is so earnest, and anxious, like he’s waiting for Buck to pass some kind of judgement. 

“You looked good.”

His eyes widen, and so do Eddie’s. He didn’t intend to admit that, and Eddie didn’t expect to hear it. 

“You saw that?”

“Yeah, well, when you saw me. But you looked, uh, in your element,” he stumbles around an explanation that doesn’t imply that he was watching Eddie like a hawk. 

“I do like to dance,” Eddie jokes, though it’s clear he’s being honest, revealing a real part of himself. 

“Is that really why you haven’t accepted any offers?” Buck pushes a little more, hoping Eddie lets him slip past his defences and see inside. 

Eddie sighs, and Buck knows he’s been allowed inside.

“I’m just – I don’t know if I’m ready to, you know, go all the way yet. And I don’t really know what I like either. So I haven’t gone home with anyone in case we get to that point, and I can’t do it,” he says all at once, words rushing out so he doesn’t have to linger on them. Now here is a revelation. No one has experienced Eddie in that way yet. Buck has that secret knowledge from his eavesdropping, that Eddie is unaware of, but now he knows that he is still a little untouched. He feels the same way he did when he heard Eddie call himself a virgin – like this shouldn’t be getting him hard, but it is.

“It’s okay, Eddie. You can go at whatever pace you want.” He pauses, then, “What’s something you do like?” Buck just now notices how close they’ve gotten during their conversation, only inches apart, sharing a single breath between them – out of one of their mouths and into the others.

There’s a moment where he can see Eddie thinking, his eyes tracing the walls of the club, then the ceiling, before finally landing back on him. His cheeks are still red, as he says, “I like the way men touch me. It’s different to how women touch me. They touch me in different places, that I’m not used to being touched. It feels different.” Eddie is saying this into the little space between them, so only they can hear him. He keeps his gaze on Buck’s, maintaining eye contact to an intimate degree – like he’s saying something dirtier, something that no one else should hear.

“Touch you how?” 

“Like, they touch my hips, and my waist. My chest. And they’re not shy about it. It feels like they’re trying to own me.” Eddie’s pupils look huge in his eyes, swallowing up everything around it. They’re all-consuming, like Buck could fall right into them and drown. 

“And, you enjoy that?” he asks, just to confirm even though Eddie just said this is what he likes. He needs to make sure. He wants to hear him say it. Eddie nods back silently. It was rare for Eddie to admit the things he liked, even to Buck. He didn’t want to stop. Buck wanted to know more, as much as he possibly could, about the way Eddie liked to be touched. He wants to know it like the back of his hand, like the inside of his eyelids.

“What do you think you would like?” The conversation has become something of an interrogation now, Buck probing further and further into Eddie’s desires. He’s surprised Eddie hasn’t cut it short, that he’s allowed him to go this far with his questions. He wants to know how far he can push it.

Everything around them is muffled, the pounding music just background noise now. The lights and people around them are fuzzy. The only thing in focus is Eddie’s face, perfectly lit so that he could see every twitch of his lips and flutter of his eyelashes. He was all pink, mouth opening and closing while he decided how to answer Buck.

“Maybe, it’d be nice not to have to think about it. When I was with women, I had to know what I was doing, you know? And now I’m like a blank slate. I have to learn how to do everything again, but I’m doing it for myself this time. And it would be nice to have someone take the lead, show me the ropes and all that,” Eddie says carefully. He’s speaking low and slow, like he has to think about each word before he says it, to make sure he’s saying it right.

Buck is nodding along. He can imagine how new and scary this must feel for Eddie. Even though they’re both relatively new to their attraction to men, Buck has had a lot more experience with sex. Eddie can count the people he’s been with on one hand. 

“You’ll get that, Eddie. Whoever- whoever you decide to be with, I’m sure they’ll know how important this is to you. I’m sure they’ll give you what you want,” he tells him, his voice hoarse from emotion and from the desire trying to force its way out. Eddie looks up at him with full eyes, as if they’re pleading for something. When they’re this close together, Eddie tilting his face up to maintain their eye contact, the difference in height feels so much more dramatic.

“You think so?” Maybe this is what he is pleading for: reassurance. Maybe the alcohol and the adrenaline have made it easier for Eddie to ask for it.

“I know so,” he says firmly. No one says anything for a second, like they’re suspended there in time and floating around together in orbit. After a moment, Buck breaks the silence, “Do you wanna go home?”

Buck doesn’t specify whose house he means, or the fact that he referred to it as home. Not his home, or Eddie’s home, just home. Eddie doesn’t acknowledge it either, but he knows what Buck means too. He nods, and makes his way out of the club, Buck following closely behind him, guiding him along with a hand on his back as he stumbles every few steps. Clearly whatever drinks he had before Buck arrived on the scene were affecting him more than he anticipated. Did he get those drinks himself, or did someone buy them for him? It wasn’t hard to imagine.

The drive to Eddie’s house is silent. He keeps his eyes on the road, both hands on the wheel, shackling himself to this position so he doesn’t risk getting distracted by staring too long at Eddie. Once he looks, he won’t want to look away. Eddie is leaning his head against the window. Buck can’t tell if he’s dozed off or just being contemplative.

It’s only when he parks the car in Eddie’s driveway that he realizes that Eddie is completely asleep. Buck touches his shoulder, hoping the contact would be enough to wake him up, to no avail. He tightens his hold and shakes, until Eddie’s head slips from the window and startles him awake. 

He looks around groggily, clearly trying to figure out where he is and how he got here, until he turns to Buck and his whole body loosens up. He doesn’t offer any words or ask any questions, just a sleepy hum. Buck guides Eddie to the door, who’s stumbling more from drowsiness than intoxication now, and unlocks it with his own key. It sits right next to the key to his apartment on his key ring, alongside a charm of a cute little figurine that Christopher gifted him. They go through the motions once they’re inside: taking off their shoes, unpacking their keys and wallets, brushing their teeth and getting ready for sleep. It’s a familiar process. Buck can almost pretend that this is their life everyday, that he is in his own home here with Eddie, until they go their separate ways – Eddie in his bedroom, Buck on the couch. 

As he’s laying out the bedding on the couch, using the set he always uses from the linen closet, Eddie shuffles into the living room, looking sleepy and disgruntled in his little tank top and shorts.

“What are you doing?” he mumbles. He’s squinting at him from under his eyelids that are half-closed, weighed down by the exhaustion that is steadily catching up with him. 

“What do you mean?” Buck asks. He’s not sure what is out of place here. Did Eddie expect him to go back to his apartment after dropping him off? Has Buck crossed some kind of line without even being aware of it?

But no, Eddie does not kick him out, he gestures instead to his bedroom with a limp wave of his hand, humming out a grunt without opening his mouth in place of a sentence, before turning around and heading back.

Buck knows what that was trying to say. It’s not difficult for him to translate the wordless noises Eddie tends to make when he gets to this state. He’s inviting him to his room, to sleep in his bed with him. Buck had thought that the moment from the last time he stayed here, when he inadvertently snuck into Eddie’s bed, was just that – a moment. Buck didn’t realize that it was actually a turning point, a new level of their relationship that had been unlocked. 

They had shared a bed before, during lockdown, but there was an unspoken understanding that it was momentary, a capsule of time where they could sleep together in one bed and nothing between them had to change. It’s different now.

The hallway leading to Eddie’s bedroom is dark, but Buck knows how to navigate it anyway. He’s so used to being in this house, to walking this hall, that it’s instinct that leads him to Eddie’s door. Eddie has gotten back in bed already, snuggled in tight under his blanket. He almost looks childish, like he’s been tucked in by one of his parents. 

He closes the door behind him, walks around the bed to the unoccupied side, and gets in. The sheets and blanket are warmed up from Eddie’s body heat, and Buck settles into it, letting it seep from the bed into his own body. He wraps himself around Eddie, until they’re exchanging their body warmth as well. Until he can’t tell his own legs from Eddie’s. Just like that, he drifts off to sleep, an echo of their night not so long ago. Maybe even an echo of future nights, now that the complicated scales of their relationship have shifted.

What breaks the camel’s back – the feather in Buck’s mind that tips the scales upside down and round again – is so insignificant it’s laughable. It’s nothing compared to hearing Eddie have sex in a public bathroom or witnessing him dance pressed up against men in the club. 

They were attending the annual LAFD softball competition among the fire stations. It wasn’t exactly Buck’s idea of fun, but he gets roped into it every year by the team, considering what an advantage his considerable physique provides. And regardless of how he feels about sports, it feels good to be needed. Eddie always gets excited to play, partly because he gets to show off some of his rarely used baseball skills from high school, and partly because this was one of the few times he got to play with Buck. The way he grinned so big and bright whenever Buck pulled off a maneuver was enough for him to make it worth it.

Buck’s pretty sure the 118 is winning but he hasn’t been paying enough attention. His attention is mostly focused on Eddie and his new friend . Some guy from the 133 hasn’t left Eddie’s side since the competition started. His jersey says his name is Rollins, though Buck has never seen or heard of him before. Cleary, he’s latched on to Eddie. He can’t exactly blame him either, considering how magnetic he knows Eddie can be. A few seconds of attention from him can be enough to draw anyone in.

They’ve been standing next to each other, talking about something , for the last 20 minutes. If that had been it, maybe it wouldn’t be bothering Buck so much – but it’s not. It’s the way he can’t stop touching Eddie, a nudge to his foreman or hand clapped to his shoulder. At one point, he had picked out a leaf that landed in Eddie’s hair, showing it to him and sharing a laugh as if there was something funny about it. 

Every touch to Eddie’s skin feels like a burn on the inside of Buck’s chest. Buck knows those touches aren’t innocent, because he sees the way Rollins is looking at Eddie as well. The sweeping glances from the top of his head to his feet, scanning over his form, the way his shorts hug his curves in all the right places. He recognizes those lustful looks. Eddie doesn’t seem to register them at all; even following his gay awakening he has trouble detecting when he’s being pursued. Apparently he can only recognize flirtation when it’s happening in a gay bar.

Maybe that should be a relief to Buck, but all it does is frustrate him. And now, it infuriates him. He doesn’t know why this, in particular, is aggravating. He knows he could go over there and put his hands in the exact same places that Rollins has put them and Eddie wouldn’t bat an eye. In fact, he would probably look up at Buck with a smile on his face, delighted to see him again. Perhaps that is why. Because it would be so easy for him to slip into position by his side and take his rightful place. 

Or maybe it’s the casualness of it, the flippancy. He is putting his hands on Eddie when they’ve only just met. He has no idea of the gravity of what he has in his hands, the gift that Eddie is willing to give him. Buck knows that he treasures every caress, every nudge and slight brush where he can make contact with Eddie’s skin. He can’t say the same for Rollins.

He doesn’t cause a scene, no matter how much he wants to, no matter how much he wants to step up to them and push Rollins out of the way, how much he wants to grab Eddie by the waist and kiss him right where everyone can see, so they all know who he belongs to. He can’t do that though, because Eddie doesn’t belong to him. 

Instead, he seethes, advertising his bad mood to anyone who looks at him. He finishes the game out with the rest of the team, always keeping one eye on Eddie and every person who talks to him. He only notices that they won the game when everyone starts cheering. The whole 118 gathers together for one great big hug in celebration, and Buck can justify putting his arm around Eddie.

They carpooled in together, so when all the fire stations start dispersing at the end of the day, when the sun is slowly starting to set, Eddie follows Buck to his car. He is gleaming, from the sweat accumulated during the game and from the sun beating down on them all day. Once they’re seated it’s clear they both need a shower. 

Eddie looks at him like he’s about to burst into laughter and opens the car window.

“I’ll let you have the first shower,” he says slyly.

“Are you trying to tell me something?” Buck replies as he backs out of the parking lot, knowing very well what he’s trying to tell him. Eddie hides his chuckle behind a hand. Buck almost forgets about his petty jealousy on the car ride – too focused on driving and basking in the laugh that Eddie gave him. They’re silent the whole way otherwise, both exhausted from the day they’ve had.  It’s easy to settle in the comfortable silence between them. It’s familiar. It’s enough company to just be in each other’s presence.

They get out at the same time once they’re in Eddie’s driveway, their motions mirroring each other unintentionally as they approach the door from either side of the car. Eddie opens the door and they go inside, toeing off their shoes like they always do. Eddie heads straight for the kitchen, but Buck lingers. He hears Eddie pouring himself a glass of water from the filter, his gulping as he downs the whole glass gets louder as Buck slowly approaches. 

It’s then that Buck is reminded of his foolish feelings, as he takes in the back of Eddie’s neck, reddened and warm from the sun, open and vulnerable to him. He recalls how close the fingers were to that spot when Rollins touched Eddie on the shoulder.

“Who was your friend? From the game today?” he asks before he can stop himself. 

Eddie swallows the last of the water, his throat moving rhythmically and then not at all. He must not have heard Buck over the sound of his chugging, because he asks, “Huh? Are you going to shower or what?”

Buck ignores the questions, unwavering from the thing that has been bothering him, pecking away at his patience for hours.

“I was asking about your friend. The one you were talking with all day,” he questions again, trying as hard as possible to maintain a level of casualness in his voice; he suspects he’s failing in that regard. He leans back on the kitchen counter, crossing his arms loosely to falsely project how cool he is about this.

For a moment, Eddie just eyes him, finally turning around and leaning his own body against the counter. He feels like he is under an X-ray, and that Eddie can see right through his flimsy facade. He knows he’s flunking some kind of evaluation right now, he’s just not sure which one. Is it the one where he passes as a regular normal platonic friend? 

“You mean Rollins?” It causes a surge in Buck’s blood just to hear Eddie say his name, to see the way his mouth forms around the shape of the letters. “Oh– is that his name?” as if he doesn’t know. Playing stupid is pointless, but he goes along anyway.

“Yeah, I don’t know if we’re friends though, we just met today. Apparently he’s new at the 133, just transferred in a few months ago,” he explains. He refills his cup with water, taking a much slower sip this time, watching Buck over the glass, waiting for his next move. Whatever chess game they’re playing right now, he’s definitely losing. 

“Oh yeah? Well, you just seemed pretty close. Wouldn’t have thought you just met.” Buck inches his way closer to Eddie, until he’s right next to him. He reaches past his head for the cupboard where the cups are, grabbing one for himself and filling it with water. Two can play at this game.

“What do you mean?” Evidently, Eddie is playing stupid right along with him. His eyebrows twitch upwards, like they’re saying to him, ‘Go on. Explain yourself.’

Buck wets his lips. How long can he keep this pretend play going before he’s forced to admit to his irrationality? Should he even bother, considering Eddie is right in front of him, prompting him to reveal himself.

“He was touching you,” he states, matter-of-factly. That’s all he really needs to say. The man that Eddie had just met was touching him like they’ve known each other for years, like they’ve known each other for as long as Buck and Eddie have known each other.

Eddie blinks a few times. “And, that bothers you?” he asks, batting his eyes at him as he does, his voice low and tentative in his question. He’s looking up at him through his lashes expectantly, waiting for something in particular – a right answer that will unlock the next level in this game of theirs. 

Buck shrugs, “Nah. I’m just wondering if he’s going to take you out on a helicopter to Vegas too.” He lets that hang in the air between them. Somehow in the middle of their exchange they’ve gotten closer and closer to one another, just a breath apart now. Eddie lets out a derisive little laugh, shaking his head in disbelief or amusement. 

“I don’t know. Are you going to start dating him if he does?” 

There’s a pause as he processes what Eddie just said. Buck shouldn’t be surprised; he’s the one who brought up his ex. He scoffs, like the idea is outlandish, even though they both know it’s not.

He presses his lips together and says, “No,” firmly. “I don’t want anything from him.”

Eddie’s eyes dart all over his face, looking so huge from this close. “What do you want then?” He’s practically whispering; no need to raise his voice when the sound doesn’t have to travel very far.

The air between them is so thick he could choke on it. Buck feels like he’s on the precipice of something, that he has been walking up to a cliff and now he’s standing at the very edge, about to dive in head first and crack his head open a million times on the way down. Except in this scenario Eddie is standing at the bottom, waiting to meet him at the end of the fall. He wants Buck to be brave.

Looking into Eddie’s eyes now, he can see the apprehension. Buck is doing as he so often does, letting his mind get so wrapped up in itself – in his spiraling thoughts – that he forgets what’s happening around him. Eddie is fresh out of the closet, and he remembers what that felt like, the instability of finding out there’s a part of yourself you weren’t aware of until that moment. Eddie hasn’t shared the details of how he came to that realization in Texas, but maybe he was waiting for Buck to ask. 

Looking into Eddie’s eyes now, he knows he has to be honest, to open up this part of himself so that Eddie can open himself up right back.

“I want you. And I want you all to myself.”

He lets that dangle between them, suspended on a thin little delicate wire. Eddie breathes out, visibly deflating as he lets out the relief. His shoulders descend from where they were hunched up around his neck. All the while, he’s looking at Buck, whatever mask he was wearing of nonchalance or attitude dissolving into thin air. Now he can see under all that, at his unguarded face that tells him exactly what Eddie is feeling.

“Really?” Eddie asks, his voice ever quieter than before, like he can’t believe Buck would want him. It’s absurd to him. As if he could want anyone else. As if he had any other choice but to want him. His eyebrows are scrunched up, and his eyes look almost glassy.

“Yes. I want you Eddie, more than I’ve ever wanted anything,” he states, like a fact. He knows it is one, but he needs Eddie to believe him too. He needs Eddie to trust that this is a universal truth in the world, an absolute: that Buck wants him, that he loves him. 

Eddie is silent, letting the revelation process in his mind, no doubt turning it over and over, trying to make sense of the last 7 years of their friendship through this new context. Buck lets him take his time, not looking away as he watches the thoughts cycle through his head. He has no idea what to expect now. 

What he doesn’t expect is for Eddie to kiss him. He feels like he’s watching in slow motion, as Eddie turns his head to face him again, and slowly brings his face closer to Buck’s, laying a hand gently on his cheek, like he’s a horse at risk of being spooked.

The touch burns, but it’s a healing heat. A fire that cleanses. That’s what he feels when Eddie’s lips touch his own, a fire that starts at their lips, ignited by the friction, and spreads throughout his whole body – down his throat, consuming his chest, and out into his fingertips. His entire being is hot, and he knows Eddie is experiencing the same feeling. Their kiss is simple, mouths closed and tightly pressed to each other, but Eddie is breathing heavily through his nose.

Buck’s hands find their way to Eddie’s waist. They belong there. There are ridges and indents along his waist, perfectly lined up with Buck’s palms and fingers. They slot right into place like puzzle pieces, until they seamlessly blend together.

They break apart for air, Eddie panting now. His hands have found their place on Buck’s shoulders, keeping him upright. Buck can feel his body shaking against him.

“Yeah?” Buck, needing reassurance one last time before he could let himself dive in. And Eddie gives it to him, nodding his head rigorously. “Yes, Buck, yes yes yes, okay? Do you believe me?,” he insists. That was all he needed. He doesn’t answer with his words, he just presses his lips against Eddie’s again, this time opening his mouth. He tastes Eddie for the first time, his sweetness and sourness and overwhelming flavor. He can already feel himself becoming addicted.

He wraps his arms tighter around Eddie and takes him with him as he walks out of the kitchen and into the hall, making his way to the bedroom step by step. Eddie mindlessly follows along, barely noticing the way Buck is moving him. Their mouths are suctioned together, letting up for only a second at a time to let in some air. 

As soon as they’re in the bedroom, Buck pushes Eddie down and crawls on top of him, not letting go for a moment. He doesn’t ever want to be separated. He wants to glue them together just like this, and with time, their skin would meld together and they would be united. He can’t think of anything he wants more.

The only thing he can hear are the slippery wet sounds coming from their mouths, and the rustling of their clothes as they rub against each other, back and forth until it feels as though the dry friction will set them on fire. His tongue is deep in Eddie’s mouth, going over every inch of it, mapping every tooth until he has the place memorized. They separate like they’re being dragged apart, but the string of saliva still connecting their mouths is desperate to keep them together. When it breaks, it falls on Eddie’s chin. His mouth is wet and open, surrounded by saliva like he’s been eating a messy meal and hasn’t thought to wipe himself clean. He’s panting too, the image of perfect disheveled beauty, ripped asunder in such a delightful way.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says breathlessly. Eddie’s face is already red, but it gets pinker with the complement, and he smiles with all his teeth, bashfully pushing his head back into the bed so he won’t have to look at the source of his embarrassment. Buck can’t allow that though. He brings his hands to hold Eddie’s face, bringing him back up to look at him. Eddie does the same to him, until they’re just clutching each other.

“So are you,” Eddie responds before Buck can say anything, looking up at him so joyfully it makes Buck’s heart pump faster. He kisses him again. Eddie’s lips are magnetized, and they’re calling to him like a siren. He would dash himself against the rocks of the sea without question for this chance, for just a taste of Eddie, for even the false promise of a taste. 

Buck kisses all over his face, and makes his way down, down, down until he reaches his neck, where the scent of him is most potent. They still haven’t showered after a whole day of physical activity, and the sweat and musk of Eddie are so strong; it’s mouth-watering. He remembers this smell, the intensity and indulgence of it, the intoxicating quality. He cannot resist now, not when Eddie is so supplicative and willing under him. He opens his mouth wide, gathers as much flesh as he can, and bites down as hard as he can. Buck hears Eddie cry out, but he doesn’t let go, not when Eddie is grasping at his hair, urging him deeper into the bite. He’s wiggling beneath him, like a prey animal urgently trying to break free from the jaws of its predator – Buck knows it is the opposite in this case, that Eddie is wiggling to bring himself closer. And who is Buck, not to indulge him in his demands?

He gnaws on Eddie’s neck, sucking hard and dogmatically, clawing at him with his teeth, making sure that when he unhinges his jaw, there will be a clear and present mark left behind, something for everyone to see. As he finally lets go, he feels a twinge in his jaw at the release of tensed muscles and looks at the damage. There’s a slobbery mess on Eddie’s neck and in the middle of it is a bright red bite, each tooth distinctly outlined. Something animalistic and primal deep inside Buck feels satisfied and proud. If they try to identify who bit Eddie by the mark, they would have a very easy time. 

The look on Eddie’s face is dazed, like Buck was sucking out his ability to think through his neck. He gingerly drags a hand up to the mark, the brand , and pressed around it, before pushing it at the center. Eddie hisses, at the sensitivity or pain Buck doesn’t know, and it trails off into a moan. 

For the first time, he notices two things: a slight ache in his own neck that reveals that Eddie had reciprocated and bit into him too – although it seems he was more mindlessly chewing than doing any serious damage – and how hard he is. 

With an urgency, he strips off his own clothes, before handling Eddie’s. Eddie doesn’t do much to help, still staring at him stunned, stroking the brand while he lays back and lets Buck do all the work. He lifts his arms up when Buck pulls up his shirt and his hips when he slides his pants and underwear off in one fell swoop. Now, they are gloriously naked, nothing to look at but each other. Buck feels like he’s at a buffet; he has so many options, so much he can do with Eddie and he doesn’t know where to start. 

His eyes are drawn to the mark – he can practically feel how it’s throbbing, not letting Eddie forget that it’s there. He presses a gentle kiss there now, and works his way around, kissing the crevice where his neck meets his jaw, the spot behind his ear, his Adam’s apple, the corner of a collarbone. His hands are just as busy, moving along Eddie’s body, over the malleable skin, the flesh and muscle bending under his grip. It’s invigorating, to finally be able to touch all the places that other men have touched.

“I have to tell you something,” he tells Eddie, remembering what had started this spiral. Eddie is in another world, drifting away from his body as the pleasure mounts, but Buck needs him to pay attention. He takes Eddie’s jaw and shakes it back and forth, bringing him back down to Earth. His eyes become a little more focused, but he can still see how close they are to floating away again.

“Eddie, look at me? I need to tell you something,” he says softly. He blinks rapidly a few times, and his eyes stay on Buck. Eddie nods his head, waiting to hear what Buck has to say.

“Remember when we all went out to that bar a while back, with everyone?” Eddie nods his assent. “I- I heard you, in the bathroom. I was in there when you came in. And I heard everything. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I didn’t leave when I knew what was going on. I didn’t want to.”

At first Eddie looks confused, clearly not remembering what night he’s talking about. His eyes go up as he puts his brain to work trying to recollect the moment. Buck knows he gets there when his eyes make contact again and he opens his mouth in surprise. “When I was– ,” he doesn’t finish the sentence, just stares at Buck.

“When you were on your knees for that guy, yeah. I heard you sucking his dick, and I hated it,” he chokes out, the mere memory of it enough to make his blood boil again. Eddie audibly swallows. Will he tolerate this? Will he be horrified at the knowledge that Buck was spying on him.

“Why?” is all he asks instead.

Buck has no reason to lie now, “Because someone else was touching you. And I heard what you said, that it was your first time doing that.”

There’s a faint smile growing on Eddie’s face now, still dreamy and dazed. “And…you were jealous? You wanted it to be you?” His voice has a breathy quality that tells Buck that maybe this is doing it for Eddie. The way he shifts his hips up, his dick hard and wet at the tip, confirms it to Buck.

“Yes! I wanna be the only one to touch you. I wanna be your first for everything.” It was difficult for him not to get over-excited. The rage and lust and jealousy all swirl around his stomach, making it harder to think rationally by the minute. He thinks he’s losing his mind a little.

“You can be. You can still– ,” Eddie’s voice cuts out as he stumbles over his words. Maybe he’s getting over-excited too. “I still haven’t– I’m still technically a virgin. No one has– ,” he stops himself and looks away, shyness taking over and preventing him from saying what he wants to say, attempting to hide his face in his shoulder.

“What?” Buck wants to know so bad. Is it what he thinks it is? What Eddie had mentioned when they were last in a club? 

Eddie doesn’t elaborate, he simply takes Buck’s hand and deliberately brings his hand down, brushing past his waist and hips and pelvis to reach that hidden, intimate place. His knees are up, almost like they’re trying to hide that part from being too exposed, but he’s keeping them open for Buck, to show him. 

Buck’s fingers brush over Eddie’s hole carefully, knowing for certain now that nothing has touched it. This is unexplored territory, unspoiled. Buck breathes out heavily. What a privilege this is. 

“No one’s been in here? Not even fingers? Not even your own?” He has to confirm. Eddie just shakes his head, eyes closed and head still turned away. “I thought about it, but I was still too nervous to try it myself,” he murmurs into his shoulder. Buck can’t have that.

He reasserts his grip on Eddie’s face, bringing him forward, not letting him look away from him. “And you want me to be the first person in here? Inside you?” Buck wants to hear Eddie say it – wants the explicit confirmation about Eddie’s desires. All the while, he’s been rubbing his fingers against his entrance, letting Eddie feel his presence. He’s biding his time, waiting for the moment he can escalate and give Eddie what he’s asking for.

“Yes, Buck, yes. Please? I– I don’t trust anyone else with it,” he confesses. Buck feels a surge of love inside him. He thinks he might be tearing up. Eddie is giving him this gift, trusting him with his body and his vulnerability. And Buck knows what to do with it. He has always known; it’s a knowledge that is built into his body and mind. He was born to do this for Eddie.

“I’ll take care of you, Eddie. I’ll make it so good for you. I promise,” he says against Eddie’s lips, unable to resist the pull to kiss him again and again. He pulls away so he can lean down to where his fingers are circling that spot, and spits down, letting his hand catch the saliva that he slathers against Eddie. He doesn’t hesitate, pushing in with one finger slowly but surely, with a confidence built from years of experience. It’s a little dry, but enough to get the job done until he’s all the way in, when his knuckle meets Eddie’s skin.

Eddie is making small, plaintive noises, nothing he’s ever heard from him before. He’s panting hard from just one finger, not knowing what to do about this novel pleasure. Buck goes back up to Eddie, not wanting to miss a single expression on his face. He catches his lips, letting him release all his little noises into his mouth, where he can swallow them down. He moves his finger in and out leisurely, allowing Eddie to feel the full shape of it inside, getting him accustomed to the feeling of being full.

This is nothing less of a revelation for Buck. He thinks he might become religious, and start praying to whatever god allowed this to happen to him. 

Before they get too far into it, he reaches for the nightstand and shuffles his hand in the top drawer until he finds the lube. He pours a generous amount on his fingers, getting it wet and sloppy, enough to slide another finger in. Buck stares down at where his fingers are entering Eddie, disappearing into this pocket inside him, like they’re exploring an undiscovered cavern. His fingers are pioneers in this place. They are the first, and last if Buck has anything to do with it, to be inside this part of Eddie.

He doesn’t rush. He wants Eddie to experience every detail thoroughly, until he’s overcome with it, until he can’t think about anything else. Buck wants it to consume him.

“Buck,” Eddie whispers brokenly. He’s reaching for Buck, hand scrambling at his shoulder. Of course, how could Buck forget what he should really be focusing on. Eddie is glorious, face glistening with perspiration, adding another layer to the one formed earlier today. Maybe he should be disgusted, but all he wants to do is lick every drop of it from his skin. He wants to collect it all in a glass and drink from it.

In the space next to Eddie, he lays down, keeping his fingers where they are and bringing his other arm under Eddie’s neck and around him. Eddie’s legs are splayed wide open, no longer listening to Eddie’s self-consciousness. He presses his fingers in deeper and deeper, while his hand curls around Eddie’s neck. It’s not a tight hold, but it keeps him where Buck needs him to be, so he can touch his face to Eddie’s, his lips moving from lips to cheek to ear, where he can whisper his encouragement. You’re doing so good, baby. Are you feeling good? Do you feel full like this? You’re reacting so well. Is this what you were thinking of? What you were dreaming of?

Eddie rarely has an answer for him. He’s breathing so hard he can barely get a sentence out, his body reacting with every insert of Buck’s fingers. He keeps his eyes on Eddie’s face, watching as his mouth opens wider with every moan, how his brows scrunch together, and his eyelashes flutter open and shut as he is driven further and further up into oblivion. 

Buck pauses his movements only to slide a third finger in, diving back inside Eddie carefully. Eddie arches his back, head flinging back into the bed, neck open and exposed. Buck takes the opportunity and places kisses where he can on the surface, punctuating them with little bites. His fingers are an automatic motion now, a machine with only one purpose. When he presses as deep as he can, it’s like he’s pushing a buzzer inside Eddie, one that makes his whole body spasm and twitch. His limbs flail out, like he doesn’t know what to do with them. Buck pins one of his legs between his own, and his hand hardens on Eddie’s neck like a clamp, holding him in place to take what Buck is giving him.

“Ahh, Buck, Buck, please please please– ,” Eddie whimpers, eyes on the verge of rolling back into his skull. Buck can only assume that he’s asking him to keep going. The squelching sound of his fingers fucking in and out of Eddie’s hole makes him leak, imagining the tight clutch on his own dick. 

“I can’t believe you’re letting me do this Eddie. Letting me pop your cherry like this. You’re so beautiful,” Buck starts talking, and it’s like a faucet being opened; the words come bursting out of him with no end in sight.

“I want to do so many things to you. I want you to be mine, Eddie. Do you want that? Will you let me have you?” He breathes the words into the side of Eddie’s face, who nods along blissfully, pushing out little ah ah ahs rhythmically. His hips are pulsating, moving along with Buck’s motions, like a boat along the waves. He feels enabled by Eddie’s encouragement, and the filter between his thoughts and his words has completely unraveled.

“I just want to keep you here forever, just like this. I want– I wanna tie you up, keep you locked in this room all the time so I can make you feel good. You wouldn’t have to do anything, or worry about anything. I would take care of you, Eddie. Would you like that? Huh?”

Perhaps if Eddie was more coherent, and his brain wasn’t melted from ecstasy, he could recognize how insane Buck sounds right now. But he’s not. He thrashes his body, trying to push back on Buck’s fingers and nodding along to every word he’s saying. Buck hears a constant stream of yesyesyesyesyes coming from him, egging on his semi-crazed ideas.

“I want it! Ah- Buck! I– I want you to– keep me– own me–,” he can barely get the words out. Buck feels a rush of pride, at how Eddie mustered out his approval despite how much of a struggle it was to form any coherent thought. He’s beautiful , he thinks as he admires how tears gather at the corners of his eyes and break free, at the drools slipping free from his mouth and trailing down his chin as he tries to close his mouth to no avail. 

How bad could it be for him to have these thoughts about Eddie, to imagine so vividly taking possession of him, when Eddie is right next to him sharing the very same fantasy? How could this be a selfish indulgence for him when they both want it? 

The idea of bringing Eddie under his domain, of taking responsibility for his pleasure, is more than he can ask for. He won’t take it lightly, like the others that have touched Eddie. He’ll take ownership of it, since he’s the only one who can bring Eddie to this point now.

Eddie’s cries are getting higher and higher in pitch, until there’s nothing coming out except gasps. Buck pauses the thrust deep inside until where he can reach that spot, the one that will make him come apart. He rubs at it, and Eddie’s whole body convulses like he’s been electrocuted. It’s like pressing a button inside him that sends a shock through his whole system. Buck just holds on tighter, the grip on Eddie’s throat iron-clad, pulsing his fingers and massaging while Eddie struggles. His face is turned toward Buck’s, eyes out of focus and shrouded but still looking at him. His wet, pink tongue is lolling out, so the only sounds Eddie can make are mindless approximations of words. This is just how Buck wants him. 

He knows Eddie is close, he just has to take him there. Buck will guide him across that horizon with his own hands. 

“That’s it, Eddie. You’re almost there. You can do it, baby,” he mumbles out against Eddie’s face, “You’re all mine. And I’m yours, okay? We belong to each other.”

Something in Eddie cracks, his face breaking open as he sobs, his back arching like it’s about to break in half. Buck can feel it through his finger inside Eddie, how he pulses and tightens so deliciously and uncontrollably. His torso, thighs, even his neck, are covered in come. Buck didn’t have to lay a single hand on his dick. He feels proud, seeing the product of his work.

Eddie is wet from head to toe, the mess of sweat, tears, saliva and come leaving him dripping. Buck looks him up and down, taking in every detail, his trembling legs, his expanding diaphragm trying to catch a breath, his eyelids attempting to open themselves. Buck did that.

His fingers are still inside his hole, letting him come down still feeling full. He undulates them little by little, to bring Eddie back to his body and remind him of where he is. Eddie moans beautifully, jerking suddenly with the movement of his fingers.

“Buck!” he says pleadingly. Buck isn’t sure if he wants him to stop or keep going, but some consciousness has returned to his eyes. Buck grins and kisses him, slowly and luxuriously. Their tongues slide against each other and exchange homes, swapping spit between them like it’s currency. This is the sweetest part – being inside of Eddie in every way he can, being so close that they lose sight of themselves.

When they release each other, it’s with a sigh. Their foreheads pressed together are sticky, hair mingling together and intertwining. Buck's awareness of his own body returns, and he feels how sore his arm is from how vigorously he was fingering Eddie. No one said it was easy work.

He starts extracting his fingers from Eddie, going as slow as possible so that he still feels every inch leaving him. “Fuuuuck,” he whines long and hard, clenching down hard on his fingers as they exit. Buck wants to leave them in there, keep Eddie stuffed forever, but he is reminded of his own dick, throbbing with want against Eddie’s side.

It’s practically purple, hard and pulsing and ready to burst. Eddie is reminded too, because he laughs at the sight of him. “God Buck, you haven’t even come yet,” he giggles like it’s hysterical, the endorphins from his orgasm making him positively loopy.

“It won’t take much to get there,” he sighs as he grabs a hold of it, planning to simply jerk off where he is.

“Wait,” Eddie interrupts him, putting a loose hand on Buck’s wrist. He doesn’t have enough motor controls restored in him to grab him with any real force, but he pauses anyway and looks at him. 

Eddie is biting his lip, gazing at his dick with longing and then looking up at Buck’s face. He can recognize the hunger in his eyes. “Come up here,” while gesturing weakly to high up on his chest. At first, Buck isn’t sure if he means to just come all over his collarbone, but it doesn’t take him long to get the message.

“Fuck, Eddie,” is all he can say as he gets up on his knees, his joints creaking from being in one position so long, and straddles Eddie’s chest. He’s right in front of him, and his dick casts an intimidating shadow over Eddie’s face – not that Eddie looks intimidated. He looks fascinated instead, curious, like his cock is some kind of alien being he’s never seen before. He would start to feel self-conscious, if not for Eddie leaning his head back against the pillow and offering himself up. He doesn’t move, just lays himself out like a canvas for Buck, a blank slate for him to paint.

Buck groans, holding tight to his dick to prevent him from going off before he’s had the chance to take advantage of this opportunity to the fullest. 

“Really?”

Eddie nods, opens his mouth an inch, poking his tongue out just slightly against his bottom lip, and closes his eyes. He’s like an oasis, and Buck has been thirsty for so long. 

How do you decide where to make your first brushstroke? Buck looks at Eddie’s blissful face, and doesn’t know how to begin. His face is already sullied from the sex they just had – he can’t get much dirtier than he is right now.

He keeps stroking his dick, building himself up to make a first move. The moisture gathering at the tip pools and drips down, right onto Eddie’s cheek. I guess that's where I’ll start . He lets his cock get closer, until it’s right on Eddie’s face and drags it over his cheek, gathering the liquid that splashed there. He doesn’t stop there, pushing his hips forward slightly so he can thrust onto the surface of his skin, over his nose and eyelids, and especially his mouth, smearing his mess all over his face. Eddie releases a breath against the head, but he doesn’t move.

The open cavern is tempting him inside, instincts luring him in to fuck into it with abandon. He traces Eddie’s lips with the tip, making them glisten like he’s wearing lipgloss. Eddie lets out a soft sound, and pushes his tongue further out, making a landing pad for Buck to make his entrance. And he does, inch by inch. He’s not sure how far he can go. His mind goes to Eddie in the bathroom, sucking off the stranger. How far did he take his dick? All the way down? Can he take all of Buck too? 

It feels like heaven, like everything he’s been waiting for. Everything that he has imagined – better even. Slick and hot, it almost burns Buck’s cock. He’s almost all the way in when he meets the back of Eddie’s throat. He takes a breather; one wrong move and he’ll explode all over Eddie’s throat, though that doesn’t sound unappealing to him. But he wants to savor this. He wants to treasure every second his cock gets to spend inside Eddie’s mouth.

A hum around his dick kicks him back into motion. Eddie has opened his eyes just barely, and he is looking up at him with such reverence, such trust. Eddie hums again, a wordless encouragement to keep going, to go deeper. Buck lays his hand on Eddie’s face, tracing a finger around his eyebrow, over the apple of his cheeks, along his stretched lips, so red and bright. He cups it around Eddie’s head and leaves it there as he starts to move again. 

With each thrust, he reaches deeper and deeper into Eddie’s throat. It’s a vice around his cock, the friction and resistance rubbing him in all the right places. He loses some of his restraint, fucking in harder and faster, smearing drool all around Eddie’s mouth until it’s dribbling down his chin. He’s taking it so well – Buck can’t tear his eyes away from the visage, his eyes scrunched in concentration and brow furrowed as he focuses on opening his throat up for Buck. He can almost gag Eddie like this; he can hear the resistance from the back of his throat when the tip of his dick touches it, but Eddie keeps himself open, taking it like he was born for it.

“God, Eddie, you’re so pretty like this. My pretty baby. All mine,” the words stream out of him as he gets closer and closer. He could stay inside here forever, burrow himself deep so he can live and die inside of Eddie. “Had to fill you up on both ends, right? You’re my slut. That’s what you like, right Eddie?” he pants with every thrust, the base of his dick meeting Eddie’s lips as he pumps into him.

Eddie moans through the dick in his mouth, trying to push his head up to take it down further. Buck stops him though, threads his fingers through Eddie’s hair and pushes him back into the bed, “No baby, it’s okay. You don’t have to do anything, remember? I’ll take care of everything,” he reminds him. Eddie hums in assent and floats off again, allowing himself to be used as a tool for Buck’s pleasure. Buck could never think of Eddie like that though. No, he thinks they have a symbiotic relationship. He’s a remora that’s attached himself to a shark, and their coexistence is mutually beneficial. They need each other.

Buck will provide for Eddie, take care of him and his child, and Eddie will let Buck get away with taking freakish possession of him. An equivalent exchange. 

He feels possessed – some animal has taken control of him and compelled him to take Eddie like this. He’s ravenous and out of control. The only thing he can see is Eddie’s pretty face, dirtied and sullied, eyes closed and face scrunched up with pleasure. The only thing he can hear are the pretty muffled whines Eddie is sneaking out past his dick. It’s an ego trip; he feels powerful and at the mercy of Eddie at the same time. Buck feels possessive of Eddie’s throat, like he doesn’t want anything else in here except him. He doesn’t know if these thoughts are coming from inside him or from a lust-induced psychosis.

He knows he doesn’t have much longer, and he pulls out of Eddie’s tight throat, groaning at the cooling feeling of air on his wet cock. Eddie lets out a wet slurp as it slips out. It lingers around his mouth, then he moves it all around, getting spit and precome over every inch of Eddie’s face. It’s like it has a mind of its own. Eddie opens his eyes, glassy and red and just a second away from slipping away a tear, and says, “Come on, Buck. Mark your territory.”

That’s all it takes – a feather that broke the camel’s back. He lets it all go, stroking away as he comes all over Eddie’s face. It’s thick and viscous and pooling on his tongue where Eddie is sticking it out. There’s so much of it though that it goes all over, painting his cheeks and over his eyes, clumping his lashes together. Eddie makes a beautiful canvas. And Buck supposes he makes a decent artist. 

A smile grows on Eddie’s face after he’s swallowing the sticky mess in his mouth. He looks pleased. A cat that got the cream. Buck rubs the leftover come across his skin, smearing it around and dipping a finger back in his mouth briefly. He lets Eddie suck on that too. He seems reluctant to leave his mouth empty, and Buck is more than happy to oblige. His fingers wander in and out of Eddie’s mouth lazily, feeding him more come that he licks up gratefully. It’s obscene. 

The relief in the aftermath is overwhelming. They’re both panting, their bodies trying to regain equilibrium after the effort they’ve expended. Eddie looks like something straight out of a porno. His face drenched in come, eyes half-mast and cock-drunk, is almost enough to get his dick going again, but he knows he’s spent. 

He climbs off of Eddie clumsily and collapses next to him, their arms and legs pressed tight to each other so they’re still touching. They just lay there for a minute without speaking. For the first time, they can process what they’ve just done, this line that they’ve crossed. Buck knows there’s no going back now, and he doesn’t want to.

He turns his head to look at Eddie, and finds him already looking back at him, the same blissed out expression on his face, but more present now. Even now, it’s hard to believe that he’s gotten here. He turns his body over and props his head up on his hand, using the other to trace the skin of Eddie’s stomach. He lets it wander, making circles around his chest and waist and hips and thighs, feeling his overheated flesh. Eddie lays back, observing him as he plays with the come that’s about to start drying soon.

“Hey, how did you figure out you were gay? You never really told me,” he finally asks, giving in to that curiosity that has been plaguing him since Eddie told him. 

“You never asked,” Eddie responds, which, true. He doesn’t sound upset though. He’s still looking at him with an open face, like he’s waiting for Buck to keep going, to keep prying into Eddie.

“Well, I’m asking now.” Eddie looks away, gazing up into the ceiling, clearly thinking about how to answer him. Buck waits patiently, continues to slide his hand around his body. There’s no rush for them here. 

“I don’t know. It wasn’t just one thing, it was everything. I was…alone in Texas. I mean, Chris was there but when he was still living with my parents I had so much time with myself. And being back home, surrounded by everything I grew up with, it made me think about some stuff, about myself,” Eddie tells him in quick succession. He takes a breath, gnaws on his bottom lip. “It made me think about what I wanted– what I actually wanted, what would make me happy.”

“And? Do you know what that is now?”

“Well, obviously, being with Christopher, spending time with him, watching him grow up, that makes me happy.” Buck nods along. Of course he knows that already. He sees first hand how happy being a dad makes Eddie. “But, I realized it wasn’t just him. I realized that–,” he licks his lips as he prepares himself to finish his thought, “that you make me happy too.” 

Buck doesn’t speak. Maybe he could have reached that conclusion on his own, considering what Eddie was saying to him during sex, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up. It could have just been the heat of the moment, the endorphins and serotonin released during intercourse, that made him say those things. But with Eddie looking at him with eyes round and wide, ripping himself open so Buck can see inside him, he knows it wasn’t just the sex. 

There’s a balloon filled with air in his chest cavity, and he has been so afraid of popping it, of it exploding and eviscerating his insides if he breathes too much. But now, looking at Eddie looking at him, it pops, and Buck doesn’t feel eviscerated, he feels relieved. He lays his hand on Eddie’s face, stroking the delicate skin under his eye. All he can do is kiss him, soft, like he’s kissing a petal. 

“You make me happy too. I– I love you,” he says against his lips. Eddie gasps and grabs the back of his head, mashing their faces together until they’re barely even kissing, just pressing tightly against each other. 

“I love you too.” Eddie wraps his arms around his, and they stay like that. All the fluids covering their bodies have become sticky and gross, but they don’t move. Buck doesn’t think he’s ever felt peace like this, knowing that Eddie is where he belongs: in his arms.

“Can I ask you something?” Eddie eventually says. Buck lifts his head from where it was buried in Eddie’s neck, not being able to resist the intoxicating scent of him even when it’s covered in sweat and come.

“Yeah, Eddie. Of course.”

“Did you really just happen to be in the same bar I was in the other night?” Buck opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He knows he has a guilty look on his face right now. They’ve crossed the threshold now, right? He may as well admit to his borderline stalking.

Eddie doesn’t look angry, just amused. Buck sighs, “Yeah, okay. I saw you on Find My Friends, and wanted to know what you were doing there. I just wanted to make sure you were being safe, that’s all!” 

Before he even finishes his sentence, Eddie bursts out into laughter. He’s not sure what’s so funny, but it’s comforting to know that Eddie apparently has no problem with Buck turning up at his location unannounced. Eddie has allowed so much from Buck, he’s beginning to think it isn’t much of a chore for him. He’s beginning to think that his behavior isn’t something that Eddie has to allow, but something he revels in.

“God, I knew it,” he says between chuckles, wiping a tear forming in his eye. 

“That doesn’t freak you out?”

He shakes his head, “Not really. To be honest, it feels nice knowing that you’re always there, watching out for me. You’re kind of like my guardian angel.” Eddie smiles sweetly at him, the pink in his cheeks making him glow. He looks like an angel.

“Okay I need to confess something else,” he admits. Eddie’s eyebrows rise, “There’s more?” he asks, genuinely surprised now.

“Well, I may have taken some photos of you when you were sleeping,” he says warily, watching Eddie’s reaction carefully. His eyes widen and his mouth drops open a little. But he doesn’t seem creeped out or scared, just fascinated.

“Wow,” he says, “What were you doing with the photos? Were you jerking off to them?” he asks him in a strangely delighted voice. He has an amused smile on his face, and Buck can see that his eyes are becoming a little cloudy with arousal. 

“No! No, I just wanted to look at them. You look so pretty when you’re asleep,” Buck responds, turning the tables back on Eddie. He’s biting his lip now, chewing on it thoughtfully as he takes in the new information Buck has shared. Eddie’s eyes look almost coquettish when he looks at Buck.

“Well you wouldn’t need them anyway. Cause now you have me,” he whispers to him, like he’s telling him a secret, like there’s someone else in the room who could overhear what he just said. And Eddie is right, he doesn’t need to look at any photos anymore, not when he has the real thing in front of him, and he can take his fill of looks. 

“Fuck, I can’t believe it. This whole time I thought you would think I’m a weird perverted stalker,” he admits. Eddie smirks knowingly, “Maybe I like that you’re a perverted stalker.”

Buck jumps him. He rolls Eddie onto his back and kisses every surface of skin that’s available to him, making loud obnoxious noises with every smooch. Eddie’s giggle is a remedy, soothing every insecurity in his heart and doubtful thought in his head.

“You meant it, then? That you’re mine?” he confirms. Eddie wraps his arms around him and starts kissing him in the same endearing way, giving him a big, fat mwah after each kiss. 

“Yes, I meant it. I’m all yours,” Eddie whispers against his cheek and seals it with a kiss. Buck burrows himself back into his neck, right where the bite mark that he left is. It’s bright and tender, and he keeps his lips pressed against it, feeling it with his mouth so he can be reminded of what it means. He’s allowed to be here; it belongs to him now. He feels a deep satisfaction, one that he’s never felt before, a life-long craving that’s finally been fulfilled. He can have what he wants, and he can give Eddie what he needs too. This is his place.

A few days later, when they’re working a call at a minor traffic accident, a patient starts flirting with Eddie. He’s standing right behind Eddie as he treats the guy, watching as he bats his eyelashes and pays him compliments while Eddie wraps his sprained wrist. Eddie is amused, playing along lightheartedly and laughing at his corny jokes, but Buck isn’t. He looms behind Eddie, staring down the man where Eddie can’t see. 

Obviously, he hasn’t made it clear enough to everyone that Eddie is his, and it makes him sick to his stomach. He’s battling an urge to put another hickey on Eddie, push his head to the side right now and take a bite where everyone can see. Before, he would have thought he was being unreasonable, but now that Eddie has affirmed his place, he doesn’t care anymore. He glares at the man until he notices, and places a territorial hand on his shoulder. 

The man has the decency to look cowed, even though he really should have noticed that Eddie was taken from the happy glow surrounding him. Eddie finishes his job and has the patient carried off into the ambulance. When he turns to Buck, he’s smiling proudly.

“Marking your territory?” he jokes as he passes him by. Buck’s gaze follows him. Yes he was. And he’ll keep marking it as long as Eddie will let him. And he will.