Work Text:
Eddie stirred awake at the sound of the hotel room’s door beeping open behind him.
It took him no more than a second to remember where he was. All he needed was one deep inhale and Buck’s smell was filling his lungs, making him dizzy all over again.
He shoved his face harder into the pillow and inhaled again, deeply. Who knew if he’d ever have the chance to do it again.
Buck’s heavy steps moved quietly over the room’s carpeted floor, slowly making their way from the door to the bed. Eddie could picture him, trying to walk on his tippy toes to keep himself from making any noise, failing monumentally.
A lost memory came back to him, of Buck doing that same thing in his house, or, well, their house at the time, while he slept on the couch. It was funny back then, and so stupidly endearing. Buck was way too big to be quiet as a mouse.
Fuck. He missed those days so badly.
Everything hurt now, so he held his breath.
He held the intoxicating smell in his lungs until they burned.
“Eddie?” Buck whispered.
Eddie refused to respond.
He pretended to be asleep. Hell. He played dead. Maybe if he stayed very still, he wouldn’t have to explain himself. Maybe the predatory pain would leave him alone instead of finishing him off.
Images from the whole weekend played in his mind, all jumbled up by the stupid amount of alcohol in his system, while Buck kept coming closer and closer, step by step.
Buck, humming to himself in the car, looking out the window, the setting sun doing insane things with those blue of his eyes, making them look almost transparent. God, he was so beautiful it made Eddie want to cry.
Buck, so soft and comfy in his pajamas, refusing to go out with him because he wanted to win the competition so badly, for Bobby.
Buck, only agreeing to go at the promise of people he could fuck, breaking Eddie’s heart in the process. Why wasn’t going out with his best friend motivation enough? Why did he only accept once Eddie dangled the possibility to ditch him at some point of the night in front of his face?
Buck, capable and strong, working by his side after so long. Back in the saddle, partners again, even for just a little while.
Buck, warm and wonderful, charming the fuck out of every single person in the 113 because of course he did. No one in the world ever resisted him.
Buck, absolutely demolishing every challenge in the games, laser-focused and thriving under pressure. An absolute beast. The hottest thing Eddie had ever seen.
Buck, being a little shit, forcing Eddie to defend him. You can have my back anytime. Or, you know, you could have mine.
Buck, all strong thighs and wild smile, riding a mechanical bull, turning Eddie’s brain to mush. Fuck. That one was going to stay with him for a while.
Buck, smiley and drunk, so kissable, so perfect, mirror ball cowboy hat on, looking at him like he mattered, and then—
And then leaving with somebody else.
Eddie’s chest hurt all over again. Whatever wound he had tried to heal with booze was still bleeding profusely, all over Buck’s shitty hotel bed.
Because yeah, that had been a cruel joke from fate, or god, or whoever the fuck was running this shitshow. Eddie ran the hell out of that bar the second that woman approached them, knowing how it would end, and in his drunken, brokenhearted haze, he had accidentally grabbed Buck’s keycard instead of his.
So, after trying and failing to open his own door for at least ten minutes, he tried Buck’s.
It opened on the first try.
Beyond lay his best friend’s room. His boots on the ground. His open suitcase in a corner. His uniform, haphazardly thrown on the back of a chair. His unmade bed.
It felt a bit like stepping into a forbidden sanctuary. Which was stupid, considering they had shared rooms and beds and houses before, but this time it was different. This time Buck wasn’t there, and he wouldn’t be coming back any time soon, and Eddie…
Eddie was weak.
Weak and desperate.
So he closed the door behind him.
He carefully sat on Buck’s bed, and tried hard not to cry. He pressed the heel of his hand to his sternum, again and again, trying to keep his chest from imploding, all to no avail.
The only thing left to do was raid his minibar, because he was brilliant, and because of course alcohol would help quiet down the pain, right?
Wrong.
It made it worse.
After downing every single mini bottle, all he felt was miserable and lonely and so in love his entire body burned with it.
And then he made another mistake, because what’s one more? He had been taking one wrong step after the other for over a year, ever since he realized what he felt for Buck was so much more than just friendship and admiration.
He lay on his bed.
He lay on his bed, and he put his head on his pillow, and the first wave of Buck’s intoxicating smell was so strong that it floored him, it killed him, it set him on fire.
He moaned, loud. There was no one there to hear. No one to see him. No one to know.
It was a perfect mix of his cologne, his shampoo, his skin and him. It was the same smell that sometimes remained on Eddie’s skin after a hug. It smelled like home, and love, and a future he didn’t allow himself to dream about. It smelled like every secret, dirty fantasy that had been plaguing his mind nonstop.
He got so hard so fucking fast it gave him whiplash, going from sadness to overwhelming desire in a second. There was no escaping it. Closing his eyes, he gave into it, too drunk to even think to stop himself.
Eddie sank his nose into the pillow and gave into the fantasy, imagining Buck’s warm, naked body in that bed, those stupidly big hands all over him, touching him, wanting him. Only him, no one else. He pressed a hand to his hard on, over his jeans, writhing, inhaling, dreaming, wanting, lost in a cloud of Buck, until he came harder than ever, in his pants, like a fucking teenager.
And then it was back to sadness.
And shame.
He cried into the pillow like an idiot.
How could he be so out of control? How could his heartbreak be so bad that it made him behave like this? He was better than this. Stronger. Smarter. Nothing affected him. No one.
How did Buck turn him into this? A pile of bones and flesh and need and love, so much fucking unbridled, uncontainable love?
He cried, and he hated himself so much. He forced himself to picture Buck fucking whoever that blonde woman was, having fun without him, just like he wanted all along. He needed this to stop. This insanity. It was taking over his life, destroying it, and it terrified him to think that soon enough, it would destroy Buck too. It would destroy them.
He cried and cried and at some point, he fell asleep, in pieces.
And now there he was.
Awake. Forbidden sanctuary desecrated. Tears drying on the pillow. Come drying in his underwear. Buck calling his name, as yet unaware of Eddie’s sins.
“Eddie…” Buck tried again. Eddie felt his weight sink onto the mattress behind him. Just picturing him sitting so close next to him in the dark made him shiver.
Still, he didn’t respond. He couldn’t. He knew all he had to do was pretend nothing happened, apologize for the keycard mixup, and run to his room with his tail between his legs and a prayer on his lips that Buck never found out about anything that happened on his bed.
He couldn’t. He just sighed, deeply, resigned. He was tired. So damn tired. So exhausted. His self-respect and his self-preservation had clearly died at some point that night, between the moment he opened Buck’s door and the moment he orgasmed exhaling his name.
His mouth opened, an apology behind his teeth. A question came out instead.
“Why?”
Silence.
“Eddie?”
Fuck, how he wished Buck would stop calling his name like that, so softly, like it mattered. It always sounded so special enveloped in Buck’s lips, uttered by that deep voice.
“Why is it never me?” he asked, hating how pathetic his voice sounded, how desperate. Hey, at least Buck couldn’t see his face. He should count his victories, even if they were slim to none.
“What do you mean?” Buck whispered after a beat.
Fuck. Did he really have to explain himself? Did Buck really need him to spell his pain out, word for word, letter by letter?
“Why is it always somebody else? Why do you never choose me?”
Silence again.
“Eddie, wh—”
“Am I not enough?” The question rang loud in the quiet air of the room, hanging between them, a hundred other questions dancing behind it.
“I don’t understand,” Buck’s voice replied, oblivious to them all.
Fucking hell.
Fuck it, just… Fuck it.
“You always leave with somebody else,” Eddie murmured, eyes closed. Tired, so tired. “It’s always somebody else that sees you, somebody else that helps you discover yourself, somebody else that you want, somebody else that you love.”
Buck stuttered behind him.
“Why never me?”
It took too many seconds for Buck to find his voice again. “But Eddie, you’re—”
“I’m what?” he demanded with a broken, sad chuckle. “What if I’m not? What if all I needed all along to figure it out was you?”
Fresh tears joined the old ones on Buck’s pillow.
“Eddie…” Buck whispered again, and this time his hand landed on Eddie’s side, right where he felt his heart trying to escape through his ribs.
It burned him.
He flinched away.
“Don’t touch me,” he spat. “Not after her.”
He couldn’t deal with it. With any of it. He couldn’t deal with his heartbreak, with his guilt, with Buck’s pity. He needed to drown in his misery, alone. He needed to find a way to run back to his room without ever having to look Buck in the eye, maybe ever again.
Whatever his exhausted, drunken, broken heart was confessing, was a point of no return. There was no coming back from this for them. This was the night he would lose Buck, forever.
Or worse.
Maybe Buck would remain as lovely as always, patient and understanding with him, offering to remain friends, and Eddie would die inside a little bit more every day until there would be nothing left of him but a rotting pile of bones.
“Eddie, look at me,” Buck pleaded.
Eddie refused to.
“Stop—stop calling my name,” he begged, hating the way it made his heart lurch every time.
“Okay, okay. Sorry. Just, look at me, please?”
Eddie was weak. So weak.
He didn’t look, but he did turn around, wiping tears in the process. There was no point hiding them anymore. He kept his eyes fixed on the sliver of light coming from the hallway, making its way into the room under the door.
“Nothing happened. I didn’t touch her,” Buck whispered once Eddie had settled.
“What?” That didn’t make sense. Why in the fucking world would anyone in the presence of Evan Buckley, having catpured his attention, not take full advantage of it?
“I didn’t touch her,” he repeated. “She was one of the nepo babies’ moms. Can you believe that?” Buck laughed softly. Eddie didn’t. “That’s not why nothing happened, though.”
Eddie sighed, bracing himself. What the fuck was Buck’s point? “Why, then?”
“She left me at the bar after asking why I let you leave alone,” Buck confessed, voice softer, planting one big hand on the mattress, right in Eddie’s line of sight. “Apparently, I spent the entire two hours I sat with her talking about you.”
Eddie’s heart jumped in his chest, doing something it had never done before, something cruel and devastating. Still, he frowned, because that meant nothing. They spent a lot of time together. He talked about Buck all the time too. It meant nothing.
“She asked me if I ever told you I’m in love with you.”
Eddie’s heart stopped.
“I said no.”
This time he looked up at Buck. He had to. What the fuck was he even suggesting? He didn’t tell her he wasn’t in love? He told her he never said it, not that he wasn’t. He was—
He couldn’t be.
Fuck.
“What are you saying, Buck?”
Buck smiled, that easy, soft, sideways smile that made Eddie weak in the knees. He looked so breathtakingly beautiful, silhouette barely illuminated in the dark, whispering impossible things.
“I’m answering your question.”
“What? What question?” Was he so drunk that he was hallucinating this? What question was he answering?
Buck smiled wider. “You asked why it was never you. My answer is it was always you. Always. Since the day I met you.”
Eddie choked back a gasp. Words left him. All he could do was helplessly watch as Buck took a bulldozer to his life, pulling it apart, brick by brick.
“I just never thought—” he bit his lip, calculating. Eddie knew that face. He was thinking how to say what he wanted to say, choosing his words. “I’ve spent the past eight years of my life trying to find what you make me feel in other people, because I was sure I would never be an option for you. It never worked, though. I never found you. No one is you.”
All Eddie could do was look up into Buck’s blue eyes, shiny with unshed tears, as the man put him back together, brick by brick. Rebuilt. Rearranged. Changed forever.
“Are you saying—”
“Yes, Eddie.” This time, his name in Buck’s lips didn’t sting. It felt like a balm. Like a prayer. Like a promise. “I’m saying she’s right. Maybe I should’ve told you years ago. I’m sorry I didn’t, but I was terrified of losing you.”
Eddie let the power of that revelation wash over him. He let it crush him, and revive him, and fill him with something so strange, something he guessed was hope.
Buck loved him?
Buck always loved him?
Buck never chose him because Eddie was so busy trying to survive that the fact that he was gay completely escaped him for years?
How could that—
Fuck…
Eight years.
Buck loved him for eight years, and he never said a word.
Buck loved him for eight years, and he remained the best friend he ever had, never asking for more.
Buck loved him for eight years, and helped raise his kid, helped him be a better father.
Buck loved him for eight years, and watched him be with other people too, probably going through the same pain Eddie had.
What the everloving fuck.
“Buck…”
The man smiled, tiny, cautious.
“You could never lose me,” Eddie whispered, barely audible.
“No?”
“No, never.”
“Why?” Buck asked, smiling wider, like he already knew the answer but just really needed to hear it.
“Because I love you,” Eddie exhaled.
They were the easiest words he’d ever said. He had been so terrified of them, they had felt so heavy on his shoulders, so excruciating hidden inside his heart, but now that they were out, they felt so right, so meant to be, so easy to say.
Buck chuckled, reaching towards him again.
This time, Eddie let him.
His eyes closed involuntarily as soon as Buck’s fingers made contact with the sharp line of his jaw, running its length slowly until they reached his chin, staying there, holding it firmly.
Wow…
They had touched each other countless times.
A hand on a shoulder.
Helping each other up.
A playful punch in the arm.
A casual hug.
A meaningful one.
But not even those felt like this, like Buck touching him with purpose, with meaning, with intention. It burnt his skin in the best of ways, branding it forever. No one in the world would ever touch him like that ever again. He wanted the entire extension of his skin to become scar tissue, in the shape of Buck’s palms.
When his eyes opened, Buck grinned bigger. “I love you too, Eddie.”
Eddie was completely helpless, under his spell, looking up at him with as much devotion as he could fit inside his heart. Hearing those words healed something deep inside of him, something that had probably been broken his whole life, even before he met one Evan Buckley.
The sensation was so foreign, so strange. Finally being on the receiving end of his attention, of his love, all while feeling the closest to whole he had ever felt.
Maybe that’s what made him feel bold enough to ask. “I want it to be me tonight.”
Buck laughed, loud and bright, the whole bed shaking with it.
“Oh, baby… It’s going to be you forever,” he promised, and then he bent down, softly pressing his lips to Eddie’s cheek.
It was gentle, sweet, chaste even, but it was enough to melt all the sadness, all the shame, all the pain away. Eddie exhaled a sigh, closing his eyes. The words alone were so unbelievable, but then those lips…. Never in a million years had he thought he would feel them on his skin, not like this.
He only opened his eyes again when the warmth of that mouth left his cheek. He looked up, not knowing what to say, how to put his entire soul in Buck’s hands now that he knew the other man would take it.
“Kiss me?” was all he managed to whisper, pulse a million miles an hour, anticipation replacing fear and dread in his belly.
Buck’s smile shone bright in the darkness, and then he bent down again, his lips landing on Eddie’s this time, slowly, carefully.
It was like breaking a dam.
It was the last drop that made the glass of water overflow.
Something clicked. Every single second of pain, every question, every endless hour agonizing over who he was and what it meant, everything made sense.
Everything was worth it, if it ended in that kiss.
Eddie gave into it immediately, closing his eyes, pressing his lips against Buck’s again and again. And then Buck tried to pull away, and he couldn’t. Somehow Eddie’s arm had wrapped itself around his neck.
Instead of asking him to let him go, Buck gave into it too.
One second he was sitting by his side, and the next his huge body was contorting itself to be able to lay down without ever pulling away from Eddie’s mouth. Before Eddie could even process what was happening, there was a line of pure heat radiating from Buck’s body, plastered to his, half on the bed, half on top of him.
Fuck.
Yeah.
That was it.
That was all it took for Eddie to part his lips, to ask for more, and Buck gave it to him, again, no questions asked. Much on the contrary, the eagerness with which he let Eddie kiss him like this gave Eddie so many answers instead.
What did Buck’s mouth taste like? Something sweet and citrussy and maddening.
What did he sound like when he kissed someone? A wonderful chorus of little, barely audible whines.
Would being kissed by Evan Buckley even change anything? Oh, it changed everything.
Every single thing in the universe.
Every atom in his body felt like it was being rearranged, becoming laser focused, all thoughts gone, replaced by pure sensation. Heat, sound, love, touch, pleasure, need, and the wet drag of a tongue that kept asking for more.
Eddie didn’t deny him a single thing. Not one. He let the kiss go deeper and deeper. He wrapped both arms around Buck’s neck to keep him close. His legs parted when Buck decided that being only half on top of him wasn’t enough.
Oh, the perfect weight of that big body, finally, finally crushing him in the best way possible…
It was Buck that pulled away first, not even half an inch, rubbing his nose against Eddie’s, making him laugh. So sweet, like a cat. So endearing. “God, your mouth,” he breathed out against Eddie’s lips. “Worth waiting eight years for.”
Oh wow. Eddie laughed again, drunk on that confession. “You can’t say stuff like that,” he complained, looking up at Buck in the semi-darkness.
“I can’t? Why?” Buck teased, barely brushing his lips against Eddie’s.
“Might never want to stop kissing you.”
Buck’s grin was devilish. “Who said I want you to stop?”
Yeah, good point.
Fuck stopping.
Eddie tightened his arms and kissed Buck again, deeper.
It was all too much. The warmth, the need for more, the relief after so long. It didn’t take much for his body to react, for the sensations to overwhelm him. It was insane. It didn’t compare to any of his craziest dreams and fantasies.
Buck was everywhere, he felt enveloped in his smell and his warmth and soon enough the weight between his legs became heat and pressure and friction and…
And then Buck’s mouth moved, going down his jaw, all the way to his neck, to the most sensitive spot, like he was born with a map that told him exactly where it was.
Eddie moaned.
Loud.
Buck groaned right next to his ear. “Fuck, Eddie…”
What was worse, that curse coming out of that mouth or his name being said like that?
Both.
Definitely both.
They felt like a wave of fire, traveling down Eddie’s body, a wave he didn’t know how to stop, a wave he didn’t want to stop.
Buck didn’t seem to want to either, but Eddie still felt him put some distance between their bodies, shifting his hips to the side. “Maybe we should— fuck,” he whispered in Eddie’s ear, sounding almost in pain.
“I’ll kill you if you stop,” Eddie blurted out, eyes opening up in a flash of panic. Hell no, fuck stopping. He wanted everything, and he wanted it now. He was not hesitant, or afraid. There was nothing he wanted to discuss first, or prepare himself for. The hunger he felt was so all-encompassing, so urgent, it threatened to consume him whole.
“You sure?” Buck asked anyway, pulling away from his neck to look down at him.
Eddie looked straight into his eyes, with as much transparency as he could muster in his state. He nodded, biting his lip, one hand cupping Buck’s cheek, his thumb running the length of his lower lip. His wet, beautifully puffy lower lip. Wet from kissing him, only him.
Nuzzling against his hand, Buck gave him a smile that sent shivers down his spine. “What if I want to devour you whole?” he asked, kissing the tip of Eddie’s thumb in a gesture that carried all the innocence his question lacked.
“I’d beg you to leave nothing left,” Eddie replied. This act of surrender, this permission, made vertigo stir in his belly. The fire in Buck’s eyes as he registered it and accepted it made that vertigo turn to fire and travel down, down, down…
By the time Buck kissed him again, finally relaxing his body fully on top of him, there was no hiding the effects all these promises had on him. Or on Buck.
All it took was a little shifting and there it was. There they were. Their bodies perfectly slotted together, fitting like long lost puzzle pieces. Buck on top, his hard on pressed against Eddie’s. Eddie below him, legs open, convinced that he was feeling God for the first time in his life.
He made Buck hard.
Buck wanted him, only him.
Buck loved him.
Buck was kissing his neck, while one hand sneaked between them to unbutton his shirt.
The first contact of that hand against his skin made him shiver, made him roll his hips involuntarily. Buck mirrored the movement, unleashing a new wave of pleasure, of desire, of fantasies. What did he ever do to deserve this man between his legs like this?
All questions vanished because Buck sucked hard on his clavicle, and yeah, maybe it had been over a decade since the last time anyone gave him a hickey, but he remembered what they felt like. The mere thought of being able to look at himself in the mirror and seeing physical evidence of this night gave him a rush of adrenaline. He wanted to keep that mark forever. Tattoo it on his skin.
He couldn’t keep himself from chasing that feeling, hips rolling again, legs spreading wider, one hand traveling up, his fingers tangling in Buck’s curls to keep his mouth close. It didn’t escape him that it was the first time he got to touch them. He always wondered. He always wanted. He held on for dear life, holding Buck flush to his skin.
Buck got the message loud and clear. His mouth never left Eddie’s skin as it traveled down. Eddie immediately mourned the loss of heat between his legs with a pathetic little whine, but the sadness didn’t last long. Not when he realized where that mouth could be headed.
“Fuck…” he moaned, feeling Buck’s lips explore his chest, discover a nipple, lick it tentatively. The way Eddie’s entire body reacted, shuddering, back arching, must have told Buck everything he needed to know, because he camped there for a while, driving Eddie absolutely insane.
He couldn’t fucking catch his breath by the time Buck finally moved on, lower and lower, planting wet, open mouthed kisses all the way to his belly and further down, until he reached the waistband of Eddie’s jeans. Only then he stopped, a silent question hanging in the air as he looked up at Eddie through his eyelashes.
All Eddie could do was nod again, shaking.
And then Buck’s fingers were undoing his jeans, pulling down, clumsy but patient. Soon enough he was free, and Buck was staring at his hard on like he had struck gold. Eddie was too fucking lost in the sight, too busy trying to process what was about to happen to remember—
“Eddie, you’re… wet?” Buck noticed.
Eddie was about to say yes, so so wet, all for you.
Until Buck spoke again. “Or… dirty.”
Oh.
Oh no.
Fuck.
He opened his eyes as panic seized him, pulling him out of the moment. What the fuck was he supposed to say?
“Did you come already?” Buck asked, his fingertips dancing across the dirty patch on his underwear, kind of amused.
“No! No, god, no! I mean, yeah, but—”
“Yeah?”
Eddie groaned, letting go of Buck’s precious curls to cover his face with both hands. This was embarrassing. He had done the unthinkable before knowing this would even be a possibility, and now he had to explain himself.
“It was earlier,” he mumbled behind his hands, refusing to look back at Buck, feeling his face burn.
Buck chuckled. “Earlier when?” he asked, and Eddie could almost hear his gears turning, trying to do the math. It wasn’t that hard. They had spent the entire night together. At least until he left.
There was no running away from this, was there? He had to come clean. He had to confess, and hope Buck didn’t think he was too much of a pervert.
“I, um…” he started, dropping his hands, staring at the ceiling. “I accidentally took your keycard, which I guess you already know, and I kind of— fuck… I touched myself with my nose buried in your pillow.”
Silence.
Eddie’s heart was beating so fucking hard he was surprised it wasn’t booming, deafening and traitorous.
“You did what?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Eddie… Eddie, look at me.”
He didn’t want to let them, but his eyes turned to Buck at that command.
“Care to repeat what you just said, please?” Buck requested, both hands planted on Eddie’s hips, eyes intense and so full of fire it would be almost scary if it wasn’t so fucking hot.
Eddie rolled his eyes. “I touched myself while smelling your pillow.”
Buck moaned.
Filthy and loud.
“Oh fuck, I love you,” he exhaled, and then he opened his mouth.
Eddie didn’t even have time to react. One second Buck was staring at him like he hung the moon, and the next he was swallowing him down to the hilt, nose buried in his pubic hair.
What the fuck.
The sound that came out of Eddie’s mouth was unnatural. His body arched off the bed, both hands flying to Buck’s curls as he felt himself hit the back of Buck’s throat, deep, so deep.
“Oh my— fuck…” he cried. The sudden pleasure of being trapped in all that wet heat, of seeing Buck’s perfect pink lips wrapped around his cock was way too fucking much to take.
And Buck didn’t stop there. He didn’t stop at all. He devoured him alright, with a hunger and an enthusiasm that left Eddie dizzy, melting on that stupid bed, seriously questioning his sanity. It was too much, too good, too unreal.
It went on and on, Buck never even taking a breath, never slowing down. It was probably too much, saying that a blow job could fucking rearrange his soul, but that’s exactly what it felt like. He never in his life felt so wanted, so desired, so utterly wrecked by another human being’s mouth.
He held on to Buck’s hair for dear life, knowing it wouldn’t last long, not at this pace, no matter how hard he tried. He was coming apart fast, eyes glued to Buck’s body writhing against the mattress as he sucked him off. He couldn’t stop watching Buck’s face, his eyes closed, his own cock disappearing inside of him again and again, until he was so full of pleasure he was overflowing.
“Buck…” he warned between rumbling moans and high pitched whimpers. “Buck, I’m—”
Buck looked up at him, eyes full of mischief.
And then he kept going. On and on and on, deeper, tighter, wetter, until Eddie couldn’t take it anymore.
His eyes finally closed, too overwhelmed to keep them open, and he came hard, right down Buck’s throat. Because yes, Buck enveloped him completely, trapping him inside, the pressure and the heat making everything else feel so damn intense.
No orgasm in Eddie’s life had felt like this one. Ever.
No orgasm was so destructive, so healing. So filthy, so sweet. So absolutely fucking perfect. Every single one of the cells in his body was affected, vibrating out of control, full of pleasure and love and devotion to the man that brought him to that paradise.
His mind floated away, thoughts gone, until he felt Buck on top of him again. He opened his eyes, only to find Buck smiling at him with eyes full of tears.
“Good?” Buck asked, biting his plump lip, eyebrows knit together.
Oh, this wonderful man…
Eddie laughed. Of course he laughed. ‘Good’ felt like such a tiny, insignificant word to describe what Buck had done to him. He laughed, and then he wrapped his arms around Buck’s neck again and he kissed him hard.
Fuck, even the intoxicating, heady taste of his come in Buck’s mouth was erotic and maddening. Eddie kissed him like he wanted to lap up whatever remained, sharing it with Buck forever.
He felt high on an entirely new drug he had never ever tried, but not high enough to miss the way Buck was still moaning, pressing his cock against Eddie’s hip, seeking friction. “Wanna make you come… please,” Eddie begged between his lips, never leaving them.
Buck responded with a deeper moan, a sound that reverberated through his chest, reaching Eddie’s, needy and wonderful. He nodded, still grinding, like he couldn’t bring himself to stop.
The thought of Buck coming like that was fucking painful. Eddie wanted to be the one to give him that release. He wanted to be the one to unleash that pleasure, he wanted to know that it was him that caused it. “How—” he exhaled, hands on Buck’s hair again.
“Touch me,” Buck whined, moving from on top of Eddie, landing on his side next to him, pulling Eddie along. Eddie went willingly, wrapping a leg around his hip, keeping him close, always close.
He didn’t waste any time. Keeping one arm under Buck’s neck, his other hand went down, making quick work of buttons and zippers and anything that stood in his way. There was no hesitation or fear. Having no fucking clue how to touch another man felt more like a challenge than an impediment. He wanted to learn. He wanted to know everything there was to know about how to give Buck pleasure.
The memory of the sound Buck made when Eddie shoved his hand inside his underwear would stay in his mind until the day he died. Such a sweet, broken moan, perfect fuel for Eddie’s motivation. He wrapped firm fingers around—
Oh, wow.
Buck was big, and so wet, and he immediately began to move inside Eddie’s fist, pouring little whines and whimpers into the side of Eddie’s neck as his fingers dug into Eddie’s thigh, his arm. Fuck, it was so erotic. Those sounds were his, all his. He wanted to own every single one of Buck’s moans until the end of fucking time.
The best part about having come already was being able to focus completely on what he was doing. He put everything he had into it, studying every movement, every reaction, a crash course on Buck’s pleasure, an intensive course he planned on acing.
He needed to see, to watch, so he pulled on Buck’s hair to take him out of his little hide out in the crook of his neck, and he found… Oh… Buck was the most beautiful man on planet earth already, but this? Eyebrows tight, eyes teary and hazed staring back at him, wrecked mouth parted, cheeks flushed and birthmark crimson red?
It was a masterpiece.
It was breathtaking.
“You’re so beautiful, Buck,” Eddie whispered, completely overtaken by the wonderful man in front of him and what he made him feel. “I love you… I love you so damn much.”
It was at those words that Buck’s tears finally fell, and he came in Eddie’s hand, hard, a drawn out, broken moan escaping from between his lips.
Eddie kept working him all through it, drinking everything in, feeling like he was witnessing a miracle, the first actually holy thing his eyes had ever seen.
He couldn’t help it; he brought Buck closer to him and he softly kissed the wet tracks the tears had left on his face, right before kissing his mouth, lovingly, pouring everything he was feeling into that kiss.
Buck kissed him back, the death grip he had on his body becoming a tender embrace. He pressed their chests together, hiding in Eddie’s neck again, breathing hard, hot tears wetting Eddie’s skin.
Eddie didn’t need an explanation for the crying. He got it. He understood it immediately. He felt it too. The emotion, the release, the relief. It all washed over him in a second, once the pleasure started receding. All that was left was that same overwhelming love had been carrying in his chest, threatening to overflow.
He let it. He let it drown him. He let it all out, holding Buck tight, kissing his face, his cheeks, his temple. He kissed him all over until they both stopped crying.
The world felt like it had tilted on its axis. Like someone had finally put it the right way up. Somehow, Eddie was sure that this was always meant to happen, that they were meant to end up like this.
He smiled, his mouth lost in Buck’s curls. A memory came to him, conjured out of thin air. A man approaching him the day of his graduation ceremony, introducing himself as Captain Nash, asking him to join his firehouse.
It was funny.
Eight years later, they ended up in Nashville thanks to Bobby.
Eight years later, he was crying in the arms of the man Bobby chose as his partner, so long ago.
Eight years later, they both finally figured it out.
He vaguely wondered if maybe Bobby knew what would happen all along.
He sent a silent thank you to his memory, wherever he was.