Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

[Stop and wait a sec

When you look at me like that, my darlin', what did you expect?

I'd probably still adore you with your hands around my neck

Or I did last time I checked]

There’s a lot to know about Eddie. 

Buck would know, he’s Eddie’s best friend. He used to spend more time here in Eddie’s house than he ever did in the loft, even before living together. It’s only gotten worse, better, now. They eat all their meals together, and now that Chris is back, Buck’s made it a point to cook most dinners they don’t have at the firehouse, so the three of them can eat together. 

(Like a family.) 

(Not that Buck would know.) 

So they spend a lot of time together. Ever since they made it out of that ambulance all those years ago, it’s always been BuckAndEddie, EddieAndBuck. 

And so, he knows that there’s a lot to know about Eddie: big things, small things, things that seem to stick in Buck’s brain, an endless list of Facts About Eddie, taking up space in his brain and constantly growing. 

He knows Eddie has a sweet-tooth and that he likes his pastries with chocolate. He knows how Eddie takes his coffee, sugary and full of milk, with caramel if he’s feeling fancy and wants to treat himself. 

(When it’s Buck’s turn to get coffee, he always gets the caramel for Eddie.) 

He knows Eddie sleeps on his stomach, and if left to his own devices, Eddie is perfectly able to sleep 12 hours straight. He knows Eddie falls asleep without the blankets, but always pulls them up half-way into the night, always getting cold. 

He knows Eddie hates to drive, and he knows Eddie pretends to hate being called ‘passenger princess’ by the whole team. He knows Eddie doesn’t separate the clothes by color when he does laundry, and that it has caused more than one casualty in his closet. He knows Eddie hates apple juice, but loves orange juice. 

(Small things, stupid things, things that don’t matter, but somehow, they do anyway.) 

He knows all the types of Eddie’s smiles. He knows the way Eddie laughs, with his head thrown back and his eyes crickling, when the whole team is together and fucking around. He knows the cocky smile he gives Buck when he’s teasing him. He knows the happy and relaxed smile that makes its way to Eddie’s face when he’s hanging out with Chris, the way he doesn’t even seem to notice he’s smiling at all, natural and easy. He knows the small and private smile he only ever gives Buck, a shared glance and a knowing look, an inside joke that doesn’t need to be said out loud to be understood, thoughts passing between them effortlessly, like they’ve been doing it their whole life. 

He knows how much Eddie loves Chris, a feeling he shares with every piece of his heart. He knows how it broke something in Eddie when Chris left, and how it destroyed Eddie, to have to go back. He knows how much effort it took Eddie to pull himself back together when they came back to California. He knows where the cracks in Eddie’s soul are, the lines that Eddie couldn’t patch up, couldn’t hide, not to Buck.

He knows what Eddie looks like when he’s crying. When he’s clinging to Buck as the world falls apart under him. He knows what fear looks like in Eddie’s eyes, the way the brown goes dark and the gold is lost, how terror looks on Eddie’s face, how his fingers tremble and dig in Buck’s shoulders when the ground gives in. 

(Buck hates that particular look.) 

He knows what Eddie’s blood tastes like. He knows exactly how heavy Eddie’s limp body is. He knows how cold his skin can get. 

He knows Eddie doesn't like thunderstorms. 

(Three minutes and seventeen seconds.) 

These are facts he wishes he didn’t know. 

(Focus, Buck.) 

But he knows other things too. 

(Things best friends, just friends, shouldn’t know about each other.)

He knows Eddie’s eyes are brown, and he also knows that they turn gold in the sun, like melted honey. He knows where the calluses on Eddie’s fingers are, and what they feel like on naked skin. 

(Addicting, intoxicating, euphoric.) 

He knows what Eddie smells like, like pine and bodywash, masculine and earthy and so fucking good it makes him dizzy sometimes. 

He knows what Eddie looks like when he comes, lips parted and cheeks pink and eyes screwed shut as pleasure runs through him. He knows Eddie likes to hold his hand, when he comes. He knows the sounds Eddie makes when he comes, choked out and broken and awfully similar to ‘Buck’. 

He knows what Eddie’s lips taste like, he knows they’re plush and soft and that Eddie’s mouth is warm and wet and how good it feels to have it wrapped around his cock. He knows that while Eddie isn’t loud during sex, especially not compared to Buck himself, he likes to talk, whisper filthy things in his ear that have his heart flipping and his dick rock hard. 

He knows all this. 

He knows all this and he also knows that starting this was a bad idea.

(He knows he’ll end up with his heart broken.) 

(Focus, Buck.) 

Eddie’s lips crash against his, and Buck’s moan gets lost in the kiss, swallowed by Eddie.

(Eddie with his golden eyes and calloused hands and pink lips.) 

“Fuck, Eddie.” He says, and he doesn’t even care that it comes out in a whine, one that he’ll get teased for later. It doesn’t matter.

(The world could quite literally implode, and it wouldn’t matter.)
(Not when Eddie is kissing him like this.) 

Eddie smiles across his lips, dark and sly, his fingers are warm as they pull Buck along, and he goes, God, of course he goes. They stumble through the hallways of Diaz’s house and when Eddie pushes, Buck goes, falls on the crumpled bedsheets and unmade bed, dragging Eddie down with him. 

Eddie’s weight is familiar on him, his skin warm as Buck rips the clothes off him, eager and desperate to get his hands on him. He runs his hands over Eddie’s shoulders and down his back and over every other inch of skin he can find, tanned and golden in the morning sun. He traces the edges of dark tatto and fainted scars, presses his fingers in the bullet hole on his shoulders, and Eddie gasps, tugs at his hair to force his head back. Buck lets him,  reaches up to kiss him, and Eddie meets him halfway like he always does, these days. 

(He’s been trying really hard to not let it get to his head.) 

(He’s not been very successful.) 

(Focus, Buck.) 

Eddie pushes at his shirt until Buck lifts enough to pull it off, and Eddie’s on him in a second, lips latching on one of his nipples and sucking. Eddie bites and heat coils in his guts. 

“God, Eddie, c’mon.” He chokes out, because his dick is hard and the shift was long and he’s been dying for it for hours.

(Another thing Buck learned recently is that when Eddie wants, he can be a damn tease.) 

Eddie’s smile is sharp, his eyes dark as they run up and down Buck, drinking him in. 

“Someone’s desperate.” Eddie says, low and raspy the way his voice gets when they do this, and it travels straight to his cock, making his cheek flush. 

“Fuck off.” He throws back, reaching up to pull Eddie down against him again. “You’re the one who kept touching me.” 

“Got you all hot and bothered, Buck?” Eddie says, still teasing.

“Yeah.” He replies, smirking back, because two can play the game. “You gonna do something about it?” 

The next second, Buck’s belt is gone and Eddie’s pulling at the zip of his jeans and taking them off, leaving him in his underwear, a wet spot already forming on the grey cotton.  

“That mouth is gonna get you in trouble one day.” Eddie says, and he smiles.

“Why not right now?” 

“God.” Eddie groans. “God, Buck, c’mere.” 

Eddie pulls, and Buck goes.

(Focus, Buck.) 

He stands by the bed, grabs Eddie’s waist to pull him closer and kiss him stupid, until they’ve run out of oxygen. 

“Hands behind your back.” 

(Focus, Buck.) 

He smiles against Eddie’s lips, puts his wrists together behind his back and lets Eddie turn him around. He cranes his neck back to watch Eddie slide his belt off and use it to tie Buck’s hands together. He pulls against it, just because he can, and adrenaline shoots in his veins when it doesn’t give an inch. 

He feels Eddie’s teeth sink in his shoulders and he lets out a quiet groan, pleasure burning in his blood.

“On your knees.” 

He drops to the floor in one, fluid movement that has Eddie’s eyes blow dark. He smiles up at him, cocky and confident. Eddie’s hand runs through his hair, pulling gently at the curls and running down his face, thumb resting against his lips. He sucks it into his mouth, watching Eddie’s lips part slightly, his other hand fumbling to open his pants. 

“Eddie.” He says, low and heavy. “Please.”
“Fuck.” Eddie chokes out, letting his jeans pool around his ankles. 

(Focus, Buck.)

He opens his mouth, nodding at the mute question in Eddie’s eyes, and so Eddie pushes in and suddenly there’s no more space for anything else. 

The world reduces to here and now, to Eddie’s cock and fingers and quiet groans and the way he fucks his mouth with abandon, hitting the back of his throat with every thrust and bringing tears to his eyes. 

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” Eddie whispers, and it has his heart stutter, his brain spin. “It’s like you were made for this, cariño, made to suck cock, my cock.” 

(Focus, Buck.) 

Eddie’s fingers twist in his hair, tugging harshly to hold him still as he fucks his throat, taking and taking and taking, and by God, Buck would give him anything. 

(He’d crack his ribcage and slit his wrists wide open, if only Eddie asked.) 

(Focus, Buck.)

“So fucking pretty.” 

He groans at that, blinking past the tears to look up at Eddie, finds him already staring, eyes blown dark. 

“Eddie.” He chokes out when he pulls off. “Eddie, please, I need- I- 

He cuts himself off, because he was never too good at asking for the things he wants, but Eddie smiles anyway, because he knows. 

(They’ve always needed very few words.) 

(Focus, Buck.) 

Eddie pushes in again, all the way, and then stays there, tugging hard at his hair. Eddie groans when Buck swallows around him, shaking to hold still. Eddie doesn’t move until his lungs start burning, new tears springing to his eyes and his brain quieting down the way only Eddie can ever do. He tugs at the belt and sinks in the way it doesn’t let up, not even an inch. Electricity cracks down his spine, adrenaline twisting in his veins.  

“Fuck, Buck.” Eddie breathes out. “I can feel your throat working, you know? God, it’s so fucking hot.”

He groans around Eddie’s cock, pain and pleasure twisting in his blood, he’s so hard he’s leaking. 

(Focus, Buck.)

Eddie pulls back and he sucks in a sharp breath, choking on thin air and letting Eddie hold him up, blinking up at him from under wet lashes. Eddie smiles.

“Again?” 

“Yeah.” He chokes out. “Yeah, please.” 

“You’re so sweet when you want to be, baby.” Eddie says, pushing past his lips again, and his heart is still racing, stuttering again at the nickname. 

(It also turns out, that when they’re like this, nicknames fall from Eddie’s lips as easily as breathing.) 

(But it doesn’t mean anything.) 

(He knows that too.) 

(Focus, Buck.)

They go again, Eddie fucking his mouth and burying down his throat until Buck is shaking and trembling, tugging at the belt with his lungs burning and tears rolling down his face, spit pooling in his mouth, messy and so fucking turned out he thinks he might die. 

“Fuck, Buck.” Eddie grits out, ripping his cock out of his mouth suddenly, holding the base of it tightly and Buck knows he’s close. He smiles, warm pleasure settling over his brain at almost making Eddie come like this, at almost making Eddie lose control.

(Always so uptight, his emotions and reactions in a vicegrip so tight that sometimes Buck wonders how he hasn’t exploded yet.) 

(He remembers the underground fighting.) 

(He likes to think this is a better way to unwind.) 

(Focus, Buck.)

Eddie is pulling at him. He stands on unsteady legs, letting Eddie’s strong hands hold him up, pull him down for a kiss. 

(Eddie kisses him like he’s starving, like he might die if he doesn’t.) 

(Wishful thinking, he knows.) 

(Focus, Buck.) 

Eddie pushes him on the bed then, face first, and he lands on it with an undignified squeal he’ll deny making until he dies. Eddie laughs quietly, leaning over him to press a kiss between his shoulder blades, teeth sinking in right after. 

“Fuck, Eddie.” He whines. 

“You look so good like this, sweetheart.” Eddie says, and Buck knows what he looks like right now, face down and ass up in the air, hands still tied behind his back. He feels exposed and fucking ruined already, and Eddie’s barely touched him. 

Eddie’s hands are warm on his skin as they pull down his underwear, his cock hanging heavily between his legs and steadily leaking precum on the bedsheets. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet, baby.” Eddie says, wrapping his hand loosely around Buck’s dick. He fucks into his fist on instict, and Eddie’s hand immediately comes down on his ass in retribution. 

“Hold still.” He says, authority and control dripping in his voice. “You know the rules.” 

He nods, because fuck, he does. God, he does. 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

He lets Eddie stroke him a few times, fighting with himself to hold still and not chase the friction of Eddie’s loose fist. It’s not enough to make him come, but it’s more than enough to drive him crazy, drive him closer to the edge, heat twisting in his veins and electricity frying down his spine. 

“God, Eddie.” He mumbles against the blankets. “Eddie, please, need you, need your cock, need you to fuck me, Eddie, please.” 

The words spill from his lips quickly, and he doesn’t bother trying to hold them back, because he also knows how much it turns Eddie on, and if Eddie wants to tease him, then Buck can give as good as he gets. 

(Focus, Buck.) 

“Fuck.” Eddie breathes out, just like Buck knew he would, and then there’s a bit of shuffling around, Eddie grabbing the lube and a condom from the bedside table, and then Buck feels a finger push at his hole, cold and wet. 

Eddie opens him up quickly, like maybe he can’t take anymore of this either, like maybe he wants Buck just as much as Buck wants him. 

(Impossible, Buck knows that too.)

(Buck always wants too much, too desperate, too eager, too clingy, somehow never enough anyway.) 

(Focus, Buck.) 

He tugs at the belt, the room filling with the wet sounds of skin against skin, obscene and dirty. He feels Eddie’s burning gaze on his skin like a tangible thing. 

“Eddie.” He chokes out when Eddie’s fingers brush against his prostate, stars shining in his eyes. “‘m ready, c’mon, I’m ready, need you.” 

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, voice hoarse. 

“Yeah, please, Eds, please, need you to fuck me, right now.” 

“God, you’re so desperate for it.” Eddie says, and shame curls in his stomach, makes his face burn, makes his cock drip faster. God, he’s so fucked. 

(Focus, Buck.) 

Eddie rips his fingers out of his ass and he whines at the loss, but it doesn’t last long. Eddie helps him on his knees and then flops on the bed on his back, ripping the condom package open with his teeth and rolling it on quickly.

“C’mon, cariño.” Eddie smirks at him. “Let’s see how badly you want it.” 

(Eddie will be the death of him.) 

(Focus, Buck.)

He swings one leg across Eddie’s waist, Eddie’s hand settling around his waist. He feels unbalanced without his hands, and his thighs shake as he lowers himself on Eddie’s cock, inch by inch, until he’s sitting on Eddie’s thighs. 

“Fuck.” He grits out. Eddie grinds up into him, against his prostate, fingers digging in Buck’s waist, and it feels so good it might kill him. “Fuck, Eddie, fuck.” 

“Move, Buck, Christ.” Eddie groans, eyes dark and heavy, and so Buck moves. He lifts up, until the head of Eddie’s cock catches on his rim, and then lowers himself down again. It rips a groan from both of them, Eddie’s grip on his hips so tight he might be leaving bruises. 

(God, he hopes so.)

(Let him belong to someone.) 

(Focus, Buck.) 

He works up a pace, thighs straining with the effort of it, the drag of  Eddie’s cock inside him delicious, addicting, electricity sparking down his spine every time it brushes against his prostate. It’s good, but it’s not enough.

“Eddie.” He says. “Eddie, please, you gotta untie me.” 

“I don’t gotta do anything, Buck.” Eddie says, looking perfectly happy to watch Buck struggle. He whines again.

“Please, Eddie, please, it’s- I need more-

“More?” 

“Yeah, yeah, Eddie, please, please.” He says, and he knows he’s won when Eddie lets out a low sound, something halfway between a growl and a moan. 

The belt is gone in a second, and Buck’s hips stutter as he readjust, planting his hands on Eddie’s chest, ready to pick up the pace, only to have the room spin on its axis.

(Focus, Buck.)

Eddie flips them around, pushing him into the mattress. He groans as Eddie pushes his legs further apart, making space for himself between them, and then it’s brutal.

Eddie fucks him harsh and fast, pushing into him with desperation in his movements. Eddie kisses him and it’s hungry, starved, heated. He wraps his legs around Eddie’s waist and digs his fingers into his shoulders, pulling him close, closer, never close enough. 

“Eddie, Eddie, please,  Eds, ‘m so close, please, need to come, Eds, God.” 

He feels Eddie’s smile against his skin, feels the bruises Eddie sucks into his neck, his collarbone, his shoulder, licking and biting at his skin to press blues and reds into it. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” Eddie groans, wrapping a hand around his dick to jerk him off, too fast and too tight, the pleasure razor sharp, overwhelming and intoxicating. “You feel so fuckin’ good, cariño, you’re so good, so good for me, baby.” 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

“Eddie.” He chokes out, reaching up to steal another kiss from him.

(Always one more.)

(It won’t ever be enough, not with Eddie, not when it’s like this.) 

“Fuck, Eddie, please.” 

“Christ.” Eddie bites. “Christ, Buck, come for me, amorcito, c’mon.” 

Buck does, as soon as the words are out. He comes all over Eddie’s hand and his own stomach and a bit on Eddie’s too, vision whiting out for a second. Eddie’s hips stutter, and Buck feels him come too in the condom, buried deep inside him and with his name caught between his teeth. 

“God, Buck.” Eddie breathes out, fucking into him a few more times to ride the high. “Fuck, you’re- God, you’re perfect, so good.” 

(It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t.) 

“Eddie.” He whispers, running one hand through Eddie’s hair to pull his head up, and Eddie comes, eyes liquid and heavy. Buck kisses him and Eddie lets him, kisses back, and it’s slower now, deeper.

(Somehow, it hurts more.) 

(Focus, Buck.) 

Eddie pulse back first, like he always does. 

It’s fine.

(It’s fine.)

“Fuck.” Eddie exhales, and Buck nods, because yeah, fuck. 

Eddie stands, smiling at him.

“Hold on, I’ll get you a towel.” 

Eddie is gone and back in a second, with a wet towel in his hand. He bats Buck’s hand away and cleans the cum from his skin himself. He’s got his boxers back on, and so Buck reaches for his, somewhere on the floor. Then Eddie lays back down next to him, one arm bent behind his head, eyes warm.

“C’mere.” Eddie says, quiet, so quiet that Buck barely hears it. But he does, so he goes. 

He lays his head on Eddie’s chest, their legs tangled together and Buck’s hanging off the bed a bit, but that’s fine. Eddie’s fingers run through his hair. 

It’s quiet for a while.

Eddie draws invisible symbols on his naked skin, running up and down his back, and it’s comforting in a way that it has no right to be. It’s so slow, and calm, and Buck’s half-asleep listening to Eddie’s steady heartbeat, that he flinches when Eddie talks, breaking the silence. 

“We should get some sleep.” Eddie says, and it’s as good as anything else. Buck gets it. 

He knows there are rules to this.

(Unspoken rules, rules that don’t really make sense, that he can never quite get right.) 

He knows.

“I’ll, uh- yeah.” He says, forcing himself to sit up, to pull away from the warmth of Eddie’s body and the calmness of his fingers. Eddie won’t quite look at him.

(It’s fine.) 

(Buck knows it’ll be fine, in a few hours, after they both got some sleep, when they’ll both pretend this isn’t happening.) 

(Focus, Buck.) 

So he stands up, stretching his arms over his head. 

“Mind if I take a shower?” 

“No, uh- go ahead.” 

“Thanks.” 

(Focus, Buck.)

He doesn’t look in the mirror, while he waits for the water to warm up.

(He will, eventually, he can never resist too long.) 

(He loves to see the marks Eddie leaves on his skin, loves to press on them until it hurts, just to make sure he didn’t hallucinate this whole thing.) 

He showers quickly. He took a shower before leaving the firehouse, so he just wipes himself down as quickly and efficiently as he can. After, he pulls clean clothes from their shared closet, and he pretends to not see the way Eddie turns away when Buck walks in half-naked. 

(Focus, Buck.) 

“Alright.” He says then, playing with the hem of his shirt. Eddie’s still on the bed, hair ruffled from Buck’s fingers and lips still swollen red. He looks gorgeous. “I’m gonna crash.” 

“Yeah.” Eddie says, glancing up at him. “I’ll go pick up Christ later, and then-

“I know, I know, the bake sale is later. Six, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll get those cupcakes made, don’t worry about it.” 

Eddie smiles, the small and private smile that’s just for Buck.

“You gotta stop letting him talk you into these things.” Eddie says, warm and so fucking fond, Buck can’t help smiling back. “He’s fifteen, if he wants those cupcakes he should make them.” 

“He gets the inability to cook from you.” He replies, and Eddie scoffs. “Must be in the Diaz genes.”
“I’m not that bad.” Eddie says, rolling his eyes. “I’ve improved a lot.” 

“Sure, so you don’t want me to make lunch later, Mr. Michelin Star Chef, sir?” 

“Now, that’s not what I said.” Eddie says, and Buck laughs, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach. 

(God, he’s so screwed.) 

“That’s what I thought.” 

Eddie smiles again, and Buck smiles back, and then there’s nothing more to say. So he nods and forces himself to walk out of the room, closing the door quietly behind himself.

He flops on the couch in the living room, and he forces himself to take a deep breath, then another. 

(Focus, Buck.)

There are rules to this. Buck knows that, and he knows the rules. 

He knows it’s just sex. He knows they don’t sleep together, ever. He knows they don’t kiss after. He knows they don’t talk about it. He knows it’s meant to be a secret. He knows it doesn’t mean anything. 

He knows all that, he just- 

He also knows he’s in love with Eddie. 

(Focus, Buck.)  

But it doesn’t mean anything. And Buck’s fine with it, really.

(After he got a taste, there’s no way in Hell he could have stopped.) 

(One drink too many after a close call, too close, they had tumbled in bed together and stumbled their way through it.) 

(‘So last night was fun.’ 

“Yeah, yeah, Eddie, and listen-

‘Maybe we could do it again. If- if you wanted to.’

“I- yeah, that- sure, that sounds…good.”

‘It doesn’t have to mean anything. It can be just for- for fun.’

“Right, yeah, of- of course.”) 

So he knows it doesn’t mean anything, and he knows there are rules, and he knows it’ll break his heart when Eddie finally gets tired of it, of him, and finds a nice girl to marry and settle down with. He knows all that and it’s fine. 

It has to be fine. 

So he lays on the couch, and he doesn’t think about Eddie’s eyes or his mouth or his hands. He doesn’t think about how good it feels to be next to him, and how much he’d rather it were Eddie’s chest under his face, instead of this stupid pillow. He doesn’t think about how Eddie is sleeping just a few feet away from him.

He doesn’t think about any of that, and instead he listens to the silence of the house, and he thinks about the cupcakes he’ll have to make later, and it’s fine.

It’s all fine.

(Focus, Buck.) 

Chapter Text

[I practice devotion

I tie ribbons in my hair

I wait to be chosen

I can feel him in the air

I pray in church basements

Ripped jeans]

There’s a lot to like about Buck. 

Eddie knows that, because he likes a lot of things about Buck. 

He likes how Buck talks with his hands, how they move in the air when he gets excited, or how they tap on the closest available surface when he’s nervous. He likes that he has to move glasses and water bottles out of reach when Buck really gets going, because more than one glass has fallen casualty to Buck’s excited ramblings. He even likes that he almost got smacked in the face more than once, because it was Buck’s hand that almost did it. 

He likes that Buck’s a terrible liar, that his face always gives him away, that Eddie can read every shift of emotion on his features. 

He likes how strong Buck is. He likes knowing that Buck can lift him up. He likes knowing he can lean on Buck and Buck won’t budge, steady and solid in a world that often moves too fast for Eddie. 

(It makes what they do so much hotter.) 

(Watching Buck put his hands together for Eddie’s handcuffs, knowing he could probably break the shitty metal link if he really wanted to.) 

(Breathe.)

He likes making Buck laugh, and he likes Buck’s laugh a lot, too much, probably. He likes how it takes up his whole face, how it’s loud and can be heard from the other side of the firehouse. He likes that it makes his eyes crinkle. 

(Sometimes, it’s like looking directly at the sun.) 

He likes Buck’s birthmark. He likes pressing his lips on it, and he likes how it always makes Buck blush. He really likes watching Buck blush. He likes that he can make Buck, known flirt, flush and stutter with just a few chosen words. 

He likes that most nights, the bad nights, the nights when he’s alone in his room and his thoughts are too dark, he can call up Buck and he’ll find him almost always awake. He likes that he can ask Buck to talk and Buck will, relaying whatever he’d been researching most recently or whatever documentary he’s just watched. He likes that Buck can make the voices in his head be quiet and he likes falling asleep with Buck talking in his ear. 

So there’s a lot to like about Buck, and these are just some of the things that Eddie likes about him, not even close to being a complete list, because he didn’t even mention the cooking and the terrible jokes that never fail to make Eddie laugh, but he could really spend a lifetime talking about the things he likes about Buck, and he can’t do that, because if he did, he’d never make it to the things he loves about Buck.

(Breathe.)

He loves Buck’s eyes. He loves everything about Buck’s body, but he loves his eyes the most. Brilliant blue, they always seem to find Eddie in whatever room they’re in, and Eddie always seeks them out first, second nature. He loves how they catch in the sun, how bright they are when Buck’s smiling, when he’s looking at him or Chris or any other member of the 118. He loves how dark they can go, when it’s just the two of them and the lights are low and the door is locked. He loves how Buck looks at him, intense and all-consuming and starved. He loves how when Buck looks at him, the rest of the world ceases to exist. 

He loves how kind Buck is. He loves that despite everything that’s happened to him, Buck can still love so openly. It takes a certain kind of courage Eddie never managed to find himself, but Buck does it every day, easy as breathing. Buck loves like he does everything else in life, fiercely and with all of himself, loyal to a fault. 

He loves that Buck loves Christoher. He loves that Buck has Chris’ schedule memorized. He loves that Chris’ school knows who he is, that Buck will take him out for icecream on bad days, that Buck can help him with math homework because Eddie’s really bad at it. He loves that Buck learnt Chris’ favorite recipes from Tià Pepa and Abuela so he can make them for them on a weekly basis. 

(He loves how, occasionally, he’s come home to find Buck and Chris sleeping on each other on the couch.) 

(Stay, stay, stay, you’re home, don’t go, don’t leave, stay, stay, stay-

He loves how Buck looks when he comes. 

He loves watching Buck’s eyes go wide, his lips part, an ocean of pale skin to kiss and suck and lick. He loves how easily Buck bruises, how even days after, Eddie can find the marks he left behind under his shirt. He loves how Buck always leans into him when he touches a spot he knows to be bruised, a casual hand on Buck’s waist, a brush of fingers on his chest, he loves how it makes Buck’s eyes go dark, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine-

(Breathe.)

He loves Buck’s bad days too. He couldn’t love Buck and not love the bad days, he thinks. He loves Buck when he gets quiet if his leg is bothering him. He loves the surprised smile he always gets when he gives Buck an aspirin and a warm compress without needing to be asked. 

(As if Eddie doesn’t spend an insane amount of time staring at him.)

He loves that Buck shifts closer to him when thunders crack in the sky. He loves wrapping his arms around him when they get particularly loud, holding him in the quiet of the bunk room. 

He loves that when he wakes up from a nightmare, sweaty and feeling blood all over his hands, he can find Buck on the couch. He loves that when Buck has his own nightmares, ice-cold water and bright lights, he’ll knock quietly on Eddie’s door and let Eddie run his fingers through his hair until he’s calmed down. 

(Breathe.)

There’s a lot to love about Buck, and sometimes it makes Eddie feel a little crazy, because he doesn’t know where he’s supposed to put all of it. 

But the thing Eddie loves the most about Buck is watching him fall apart. 

Like right now. 

“Eddie.” Buck whines, and Eddie needs a fucking second. 

(Breathe.)

Buck looks so beautiful it hurts, spread out on Eddie’s bed, with his arms tied to the headboard. He takes a moment to run his hands across Buck’s skin, tracing the edges of dark ink and faded scars, running his fingers across his ribs and down the dip on his waist. Buck shivers under his hands, breath shaking and heart racing, Eddie can feel it behind his ribcage. 

He leans down to press his lips over it, drunk on the little gasps Buck is making. He looks up at him, and it’s enough to steal all the oxygen from his lungs. 

(Blue eyes and red lips, golden hair and pink cheeks.) 

(Breathe.) 

He’ll never understand. 

(How someone could ever look at him, and think he’s not enough.) 

(Eddie will never have enough.) 

(Breathe.) 

He leans up to claim his lips into a kiss, and Buck opens up under him like he always does, lets Eddie lick into his mouth, claiming him.

(Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine-

He kisses Buck over and over, licking deep into his mouth, until Buck’s gasping for air under him, tugging at the rope tying his wrists to the headboard. Eddie smiles across his lips when the bed shakes, heat curling in his guts. 

(Buck’s mouth tastes like coffee and perdition.) 

(Breathe.)

He kisses his way down Buck’s naked body. He sucks red bruises on Buck’s collarbone and over his heart, brushes his fingers across his side and over the tattoos on his chest. He runs his tongue down his stomach and feels his muscles shift, the constant push and pull of Buck’s body, so alive and thrumming with energy. 

(Adoration, devotion, perfection.) 

(Breathe.) 

He spreads Buck’s thighs wider, pushing at the vibrator in Buck’s ass, delighted when Buck jumps as it rubs against his prostate. 

“Fuck, Eddie, please.” Buck says, and it sounds like a prayer. 

He smiles, wrapping a loose hand around Buck’s dick, wet and leaking and red, stroking him lightly a few times. 

“Getting close, baby?” He asks, and he can never help the nicknames that escape him when they’re like this. He can’t help showering Buck in praises, because he loves how it always makes him blush, always makes his eyes widen a little, like he’s never expecting it.

(He’d spend a lifetime whispering praises into his skin.) 

(Breathe.)

“Yeah.” Buck whispers. “Yeah, real close.”
“You know the rules.” He says, and Buck nods. Eddie grins at him, something dark and twisted curling in his chest the way it always does when Buck goes pliant and malleable like this. He squeezes Buck’s waist, and dips down to suck the head of Buck’s cock in his mouth. 

Sucking dick has been a learning process, but he likes to think he’s gotten pretty decent at it, in the few weeks they’ve been doing this. If anything, Buck always seems to like it. 

Buck’s voice cracks, his legs flex, and a low groan escapes him. Eddie feels the bed shake again as Buck tugs at the rope. 

“Eddie, fuck, fuck, Eddie, that’s not fair.” Buck says, because he’s not allowed to come until Eddie says so, until they’ve gone through all five levels on the vibrator. But Eddie’s a bastard and a piece of shit, and he loves bringing Buck to edge and holding him there until Buck starts cracking. 

It won’t take long. 

(Breathe.)

He sucks at the head of Buck’s dick, dips lower to suck more of it in his mouth. Buck’s cock is big. 

(“So that’s why they called you Firehose, uh?”

‘I wish they’d never told you that.’)

(He’d been drunk and stupid and in love, and it was his best friend in the whole wide world, and now they’re here.) 

“God, Eddie, your mouth, so good, so fuckin’- stop, stop, stop, I’m gonna- fuck.” 

Eddie pulls back with a wet pop, a string of saliva stretching between his mouth and Buck’s dick. He watches Buck writhe on the bed, eyes squeezed shut and body tensed, an elastic ready to snap. Buck’s cock twitches, leaking precum everywhere, but he doesn’t come. Eddie smiles.

“So good for me, cariño, look at you.” He says, leaning down to kiss him again. Buck’s eyes are glassy, wet, he’s fading fast. There’s a loopy smile on his face and Eddie has to know what it tastes like, so he kisses him, over and over and over, until the smile is gone and Buck’s panting again. 

“Christ, Eddie.” Buck breathes out, and Eddie reaches for the remote to up the level of the vibrator. Buck groans, hips fucking into nothing once, twice, before Eddie slaps his thigh to make him stop. 

“Quit it.” He grits out, and Buck nods.

“Sorry, sorry.” He mumbles, and Eddie loves him. God, he loves him so much he thinks it might kill him. 

(Breathe.)

The lamp on the bedside table throws a warm glow in the room, washes Buck’s skin in golds, catching in the crystal blue of his eyes, and with his hair wild, he looks a bit like an angel, he tastes like damnation. 

Buck arches off the bed and Eddie traces the sinful line of his spine with reverent fingers, unable to believe he gets to at all. 

“Buck, fuck, the way you look right now.” He says, painfully aware of the adoration in his voice. “You look gorgeous, baby, so fuckin’ beautiful.” 

Buck blushes a gorgeous shade of pink, lips wide and begging to be kissed, so Eddie does.

He pulls back too soon and Buck chases after him, and it makes his heart flip in his chest. 

(Breathe.) 

He smiles at Buck, then lowers again to go back to sucking his cock. 

“Fuck.” Buck hisses, hips snapping up, and Eddie has to use both hands to hold him down. He digs his fingers in, just because he can, because if he’s lucky, tomorrow at work, Buck’s shirt will ride up and he’ll get to see his own fingerprints on his skin. 

It takes even less this time around, Buck’s close. 

“Stop.” Buck chokes out, panting harshly. “Eddie, Eddie, stop, shit.” 

He does, smirking up at Buck.

“Good boy.” He says, watching Buck’s eyes blow dark. “Doin’ so good for me, baby, so perfect.” 

“Fuck.” 

He ups the vibrator again and Buck keens, deep and long, precum spurting steadily from his dick. 

“Oh, fuck, Eddie, fuck, I- I can’t- I- it’s- it’s too much, it’s- Eddie, please.” 

Buck’s voice cracks, and tears roll down his cheeks and he looks breath-taking. 

(He doesn’t know how something so beautiful can be wrong.) 

(He remembers a cross over the door and Sunday mass every week, he remembers the Hail Mary like it’s a second language, he remembers a boy with a pretty smile he wasn’t allowed to hang out with.)

(Breathe.) 

Buck breaks on the bed, eyes wet with salty tears and skin stained with reds and blues, and he looks at Eddie with so much heat in his gaze that Eddie feels his own blood boil, and he wonders if maybe he made it to Hell already. 

“God.” He whispers, a bit of a prayer, a bit of a confession. “Fuck, Buck, you’re so pretty like this.” 

“Eddie, please.” 

(Breathe.)

“One more, baby.” He says, draping himself over Buck’s shaking body, needing him close, closer, needing to touch him. “Can you do one more? For me?” 

It’s a dirty move, Eddie knows it is. 

(He knows that if he asked, Buck would move mountains for him.) 

(But Eddie’s selfish, and a bastard, and he’s going to Hell anyway, and so he asks.) 

Buck nods, exhaling shakily.

“Yeah, yeah, anything. Anythin’.” 

Eddie knows. 

(Breathe.)

He steals one more kiss from him, always one more, and pulls back. 

He sits on Buck’s legs to hold him still when he ups the vibrator again. He watches as Buck whines and writhes on the bed, tugging uselessly at the rope and fucking his hips into thin air, desperate and eager. Heat curls in his stomach, tingling from his feet up, and he has to press a hand over the bulge in his jeans to stave off some of the pressure, before he comes before he even gets the chance to fuck Buck. 

“Fuck, baby.” He whispers, veneration dripping in his voice. 

“Eds.” Buck mumbles. “Eddie, please, please, I’m so close.”
“Not yet.” He says, and he wants. 

He sucks at Buck’s dick again, more firmly this time, pulling out all the tricks he knows Buck loves. It doesn’t take very long, not long at all. In a matter of seconds Buck’s gasping and moaning, obscene and dirty and filthy, it runs straight to his cock. 

“Eddie, Eddie, stop, stop, stop, I’m gonna- Eddie-

Eddie doesn’t stop, doesn’t pull back, just keeps going, sucking as much of Buck’s cock into his mouth as he can, hollowing his cheeks and swiping at the head with his tongue. 

(He wants to push, see how far Buck can go, how far his control can stretch when he’s already so wound up, he wants to ruin him.) 

“Eddie, no, no, please, please-

(He’d smirk, if his mouth wasn’t so busy.) 

A sob tears from Buck’s throat, the bed shakes, Eddie digs his fingers in his waist and keeps going. Buck’s voice cracks, he shakes. 

“Eddie.” 

Eddie pulls back and Buck cries out, sobs, shivers wrecking through him. 

“Eddie.” He chokes out, dick twitching on his stomach, and he doesn’t come. Christ.

“You did so good for me, baby.” He whispers, leaning over Buck to kiss him. Buck’s still crying, tears clinging to his lashes and his eyes bright and puffy. “You were perfect, cariño, so beautiful. So good for me, amorcito.” 

Buck sobs again, tugging weakly at the rope, and so Eddie finally takes pity on him and leans down to kiss him again. He licks in Buck’s mouth, ignoring how his own heart stutters when Buck melts under him. He traces his fingers over Buck’s face, wiping away the tears with his thumb, and he runs them lower, ghosting across his neck and lower over Buck’s ribs, tracing the uneven edges of old scars and black ink.

(Breathe.) 

He pulls back too soon, kissing his way down Buck’s body, stopping over his heart to feel it race, and Buck groans quietly. The vibrator is still going, and Eddie lets it while he pulls it out, making sure Buck feels every ridge and bump of it, because he’s a dick like that. 

Buck’s a mess, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin and plastering his hair to his face, and he looks so beautiful it hurts. 

(Breathe.) 

“Buck.” He says, it falls from his lips unbidden, and he drinks in the shivers running down Buck’s spine. He grabs the lube and teases a wet finger at Buck’s hole, red and warm and so, so sensitive. “You’re almost done, sweetheart.”
He sinks three fingers into Buck’s hole immediately, and the pressure is heavenly, impossible, the heat blinding. He almost comes just thinking about putting his dick there. 

Buck is pliant under him, broken moans falling from his lips in a constant lithany of ‘Eddie’ and ‘fuck’ and ‘please’, the sweetest kind of melody, it sounds like a prayer. 

“Fuck, baby.” He groans as he finally rolls a condom on and sinks in the heat of Buck’s body. “Fuck, you feel so good, cariño, so fuckin’ tight, Dios.” 

Buck groans, Eddie watches his biceps flex when he pulls uselessly at the rope, and it’s addicting, watching Buck fall apart under him, watching Buck give up control so easily, pliant and malleable and beautiful. 

“Eddie.” Buck gasps, rolling his hips to meet Eddie’s, and electricity shoots down his spine. “Eddie, Eddie, oh God, please, need you, need you so bad.”
“What do you need?” He asks, voice low and dark with the effort to hold back. Buck sobs, and Eddie’s chest twists with pleasure. 

“You.” Buck chokes out, and Eddie’s ruined. “Need you to fuck me, Eddie, Eds, please, need it, need you so bad, please.” 

(Breathe.)

It’s brutal after that, whatever semblance of control he had snapping at Buck’s begging. He fucks his hips inside Buck’s warm body, sinks deep inside him until Buck’s voice breaks in a loud moan. He takes and takes and takes and Buck lets him. He fucks Buck like they might die tomorrow, desperation in his movements, and the Devil in his ear. 

He leans down to kiss Buck, folding him on himself, and he digs his fingers in Buck’s thighs  hard enough to bruise, sucks more hickeys on the side of Buck’s neck, tugging at his hair with one hand to force his head to the side. Buck lets him. 

The pleasure is intense, razor sharp after this much teasing, it fries down his spine like white-hot fire. 

“Buck.” He grits out, and it tastes like salt and copper on his tongue. Buck’s loud, rolling his hips to meet every one of Eddie’s thrusts, gorgeous and sinful and divine. 

(It’s easy to get lost, like this.)

(It’s easy to let go, when it’s Buck.)

(Breathe.) 

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good.” He mumbles against Buck’s skin. I love you. “So fuckin’ pretty, so- so good, God, Buck-

His voice cracks and his orgasm washes over him suddenly, stars flashing in front of his eyes.

(He wishes, not for the first time, that he wasn’t wearing a condom.)

(He wishes, not for the last time, that he could watch his cum leak out of Buck’s hole and fuck it back in with his fingers.) 

(Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine-

He fucks into Buck’s body a few more time, riding the high into the afterglow. It takes all of his willpower to not collapse directly on Buck. 

(Not that Buck would mind, he knows.)

(Breathe.) 

“Jesus.” He whispers, pressing a kiss on Buck’s lips again. “Fuck, baby.”
“Eddie.” Buck gasps, eyes squeezed shut and body tensed like a violin string. Eddie smirks at him. 

“You close, sweetheart?” Buck nods fervently, eyes still squeezed shut as he fights with himself to hold back his orgasm. Because Eddie hasn’t given him permission yet. 

(Eddie’s good, perfect boy, he loves him so much.)

(Breathe.) 

He pulls out of Buck’s hole, strips off the condom, ties it off, and throws it in the general direction of the trashcan, to be dealt with later. 

He turns back to Buck, running his hands over Buck’s burning skin, memorizing every scar and mole and ridge of his body like he’s done a million times before.

(It won’t ever be enough.) 

(Breathe.) 

“Alright, corazón, you can come whenever.” He whispers, leaning down to press a kiss on Buck’s hip. Buck’s cock jumps when Eddie sinks three fingers into his hole, and Buck whines, loud and high-pitched, eyes wet all over again with how sensitive he must be. Eddie knows he is. 

“Eddie.” Buck chokes. “Eddie, please, you- you gotta touch me, please, I can’t-

“You can’t?” He asks, curling his fingers against Buck’s prostate. Buck shakes his head, eyes wide and pleading and so, so blue.

“Not if- if you don’t touch me, please, Eds, please, please-

He shushes Buck with another kiss, pulling back just enough to lick the tears from his face. Buck shivers under him again, and Eddie smiles. 

“I think you can, baby.” He says, letting his voice drop low and dark, the way he knows Buck likes. “Think you can do it for me, sweetheart?” 

Buck sobs.

“Eddie.” 

He grins, catching Buck’s earlobe with his teeth and picking up the pace with his hand, the room filled with the pungent smell of sex and the wet noise of skin against skin, lube dripping from Buck’s hole, pornographic and obscene. 

Next time I’ll fuck you without the condom.” He says, letting the words spill out of his mouth, and he’s rewarded by Buck clenching down on his fingers. “Next time, I’ll come inside you, and then I’m gonna fuck you with it, plug you up to keep it inside.” 

“E-Eddie, fuck- fuck-

“But only if you come for me now, cariño, only if you show me how good you can be for me.” He smiles, licking the salt from Buck’s skin. “You wanna be good for me, Buck?” 

“Yes, yes, yeah, anythin’, anythin’, Eddie, please-

“Come now, Buck.” 

It’s impossibly hot when Buck does, spilling all over himself and a bit on Eddie’s stomach. Buck arches off the bed, sucking Eddie’s fingers in and tugging at the rope so hard the bed shakes with the force of it. 

Buck comes with his name caught between his teeth, eyes burning holes in Eddie’s very soul. 

(Breathe.)

“Fuck, Buck.” He whispers, can’t quite keep the awe out of his voice. “Christ, you’re-

“Eddie-

“Fuck, you did so good, amor, so fuckin’ perfect, so perfect for me, such a good boy, cariño, perfect.” 

Eddie kisses him, can’t hold back for another second. He pulls his fingers out of Buck’s hole and grabs his waist instead, holding him tightly and pressing him into the bed. Buck lets him, legs shaking and covered in cum, he looks as ruined as Eddie feels. Buck lets himself be kissed stupid, until they have to come up for air, and even then, Eddie doesn’t stop. 

He only pulls back when Buck’s shaking has stopped, when Buck’s finally melting in the mattress, tension leaving his body. 

“Baby.” He whispers, and Buck hums on his lips, his mouth red and slick with spit, cheeks pink, he looks so fucking beautiful that  Eddie can’t quite look at him. So he unties him instead, directing his attention to the red rope around Buck’s wrists.

“You okay? Hands feel okay?” He asks, gently lowering Buck’s arms. Buck hums in response, eyes slipping close, and Eddie smiles, trying his best to suffocate the warmth blooming in his chest. “Buck? Can you stay awake a few more minutes, baby?” 

“No.” Buck says, but then he’s opening his eyes anyway, and Eddie needs a second so he won’t drown in the brilliant blue of them. 

(Breathe.)

“C’mon, sit up a bit, I’m gonna get you some water.” 

He’s about to get up, get them a towel to clean up the rapidly drying cum on Buck’s stomach and a glass of water for him, when Buck’s hand closes around his wrist.

“Stay.” Buck says, eyes heavy and warm, he’s still down. 

(Breathe.)

(Something violent twists in his chest, something dark and possessive that wants nothing more than to tuck Buck into his side and never let him go.) 

But it’s not what they are.

(It’s not who he is.)

(Breathe.)

He leans in to kiss him again, just once, just so maybe it won’t hurt as bad, and pulls back anyway. 

“I’m just gonna get you a towel and some water, corazòn.” He says, forcing himself to stand up. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
Buck smiles, loopy and lost in subspace and so bright, it’s like being shot.   

(He would fucking know.) 

“Don’t be gone too long, handsome.” Buck says, soft, too soft, and Eddie can’t do this. 

“Never.” He chokes out, and then all but runs from the bedroom. 

(Breathe.)

He stops in the kitchen first, filling a glass and downing it quickly, and then filling it again to bring it over to Buck. He stops by the bathroom to wipe the cum from himself and wet a clean towel to clean up Buck.

In the bedroom, Buck’s splayed out on the bed, an arm thrown over his eyes, and Eddie takes a second, just one, to watch him.

(Cum-stained skin, reds and blues, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, bright smiles and red lips.)

(He feels a little sick.)

(Breathe.)  

“Hey.” He says, and Buck pulls up, sitting up against the headboard. He holds out his hand for the towel, and Eddie pushes it away.

“Let me.” He says, aware of how raw his own voice sounds. Buck hums, sinking back in the  pillows. Eddie feels Buck’s eyes on himself as he wipes the cum from Buck’s body, as gently as someone like him can manage.

He throws the towel on the floor after, and then he grabs the glass he left on the nightstand and holds it to Buck’s face. Buck’s mouth quirks up into a smile, soft, far softer than Eddie deserves. 

“Drink.” He says, forcing his voice to hold steady.
“I’m not a baby, you know.” Buck says, and he looks a bit more like himself then. Eddie smiles at him anyway.

“Then don’t make me do it for you.” 

Buck’s eyes are liquid, intense, electric.

“Sir, yessir.” Buck whispers, taking the glass from Eddie and obediently drinking all of it. He takes the distraction to get a couple of deep breathes in, watching Buck’s throat bob and a drop of water spill down his chin.

(He’d like to lick it.)

(But they don’t do that, after.)

(Breathe.) 

Buck hands him the glass back and Eddie puts it on the nightstand. Then, he climbs back on the bed, and Buck curls against his side, two pieces to the same broken puzzle. 

(Breathe.) 

He doesn’t know when things changed, between them. 

He doesn’t know when he fell in love with Buck. 

He couldn’t pinpoint a single moment for it. 

Maybe it was when Eddie got shot, and Buck had shown up to take care of Chris just like Eddie knew he would. Maybe it was later, when Buck got struck by lightning and Eddie felt Buck’s heart stop, and thought his did too. Maybe it was all the way back to the earthquake, right after Eddie first got to the 118, when he and Buck shared one glance and instantly knew they were going to climb inside that building with just each other as back-up. Maybe it was when he saw Buck in the refugee camp after the tsunami, bleeding and distraught and about to tell Eddie he lost Chris. Maybe it’s any of the other dozens of close calls they’ve had over the years.

(Breathe.) 

Maybe it’s none of those horrible moments and something much more mundane. Maybe it happened over Facetime calls when he was in Texas, hating life, and Buck had been the thread keeping him upright. Maybe it had been on one of the endless nightshifts in the firehouse, laughing at each other’s dumb jokes, so tired they have to lean on each other to sit upright. Maybe it happened during any of the meals Buck has cooked in his house, sitting around a table with Chris between them.

(Breathe.)

Eddie doesn’t know. He knows he only realized after they’d tumbled in bed together, drunk and warm and eager. And then he’d been too much of a coward to ask for what he really wanted, and too scared to give up what he found. 

So, for now, he presses his lips on Buck’s sweaty hair, and lets his fingers travel down Buck’s spine. 

“You did so good.” He says, biting back any sweet nickname burning on his tongue. He feels Buck smile against the naked skin of his chest. 

“You weren’t so bad yourself.” Buck says, faint pink coloring his cheeks, and Eddie will never have enough of this, and he’ll never be brave enough to ask for it. 

(Breathe.) 

Outside, it’s dark. 

It’s not that late, and Christopher will be home soon from a study date with his friends. And they don’t do this. They just don’t. 

(His mouth tastes like Buck and communion bread and blood.) 

(Breathe.)

“We should shower.” He says, cracking the perfect, peaceful bubble around them. 

He watches as Buck’s smile falters, just for a second, like it always does. He pulls back and it takes every ounce of Eddie’s will to not hold him close. 

“Y-yeah.” Buck stammers out. “Yeah, I’ll- mind if I go first?” 

“Sure, go ahead.” He says, and then he watches Buck nod and disappear inside the bathroom with a clean change of clothes. 

Christ. 

(Breathe.) 

His heart stammers when the door closes.  

“Fuck.” He whispers to none. “Shit.” 

(Breathe.) 

***

Buck’s been sleeping on the couch, like he’s been doing since Eddie moved back from Texas. 

Chris is in his room, and the lights are off, and the house is dark and quiet.

Eddie should be sleeping too. 

(Too many bad memories, of sand and gunshots, blood on Buck’s lips and his mother’s screaming voice, of Chris’ glasses around Buck’s neck and a mountain of dirt and mud falling on him.) 

(Breathe.) 

It used to be easier, this part, before. 

(Before the sex and before he gave a name to the pain in his chest every time Buck smiles at him.) 

It used to be easy, walking barefoot to the couch so he wouldn’t wake up Chris. It used to be easy, to pat Buck’s shoulder, watch his best friend wake up and blink at him with bleary eyes. It used to be easy, to grab Buck’s arm and drag him to the bed, so they could catch a few hours of decent sleep before the sunrise.

(He’s always slept better with Buck next to him.) 

(And maybe that should’ve tipped him off sooner, but somehow, it didn’t.) 

(Breathe.)

As it is, now, after the sex and after another nightmare and with the house dark and quiet, Eddie stands by the couch and he watches Buck sleep. 

Buck’s too big for the couch, his feet hanging off the edge, and he must wake up with a fucked up back every day, and yet, Eddie’s never heard him complain. It’s not surprising, Buck rarely complains about anything. 

(Breathe.)

He sighs. His eyes burn with the need to sleep, and his hands shake with leftover fear and panic from yet another nightmare. 

He should wake Buck up. 

It’s what he would have done before.

He would have woken Buck up, and he would have taken Buck’s hand, and he would have walked both of them to the bed and they would have slept together, side by side to stave off the nightmares. 

But that was before, and this is after, and suddenly doing all that feels like too much, an admission that Eddie can’t make, too close and too real and too honest, a confession.

And so he doesn’t. 

Instead, he watches Buck’s chest rise and fall until his own heart has stopped racing and his hands have stopped shaking.

(Breathe.)

Then, he turns around, and goes back to bed. 

(He doesn’t fall asleep again.) 

Chapter Text

[Midnight and the moon is out

Careful, you might hurt yourself

Pleasure leads to pain

To me, they're both the same

Sweat drippin' down to the floor

Bite marks like an animal

You might be insane

But maybe we're the same]

Some days start good. Some start bad. Some start with spilled coffee and traffic. Some start with pancakes and the sound of Chris’ crutches coming down the hall. 

This particular day starts with Eddie’s lips around his dick.

“Fuck.” He groans, voice still hoarse with sleep, because he quite literally just opened his eyes, but as soon as he did, he’d been blessed with the vision of Eddie kneeling between his legs on the couch, sucking his dick like his life depends on it.

“Fuck, Eddie.” He sighs, curling one hand in Eddie’s hair, silky and fluffy between his fingers, the way it always is before he puts products on it. “God, babe.” 

He’s pretty sure Eddie would be smiling if he could. As it is, he looks up at Buck with a heated look in his eyes and his lips stretched wide around his dick, saliva collecting at the corners of his mouth. 

(Focus, Buck.)

“Fuck, fuck, Eddie- where’s- Chris? Fuck-

“He left for school already .” Eddie talks quickly, and the next second, he’s back at sucking. Buck whines, melting in the couch, because now that he knows they’re alone, he can fully enjoy this. 

He tugs gently at Eddie’s hair, thrusting up into his mouth a little, pleasure cursing into his veins. Eddie pulls back to grin at him, hungry and predatory.

“Wanna fuck my mouth, baby?” 

“Yeah.” He breathes out, the familiar blanket of Eddie’s control settling over him. “Yeah, fuck, yeah, Eddie.” 

“Go ahead, sweetheart.” Eddie says, and then he leans back down, swallowing Buck down to the hilt. Pleasure washes over him, intense and bright, as his dick hits the back of Eddie’s throat. 

He thrusts into Eddie’s mouth again, and Eddie blinks up at him, eyes wide and warm. 

“Fuck, Eddie.” He whispers. He builds up a rhythm, fucking into Eddie’s mouth as heat curls in his guts. Eddie lets him, swiping his tongue over the head of his cock and down the side of it, and Buck feels drunk on it, drunk on the way Eddie looks and sounds and feels, addicted to it. 

(Focus, Buck.)

“Oh, God.” 

Pleasure coils in his guts, tight and burning, sending bolts of lighting down his spine with every swipe of Eddie’s tongue. God, he’s so close he can taste it, tingling from his legs up.

His hips stutter, and he tightens his grip on Eddie’s soft hair in warning, and he’s right there, right on the edge, when suddenly Eddie pulls back.

“No.” Eddie says, sharp and commanding, and everything in Buck’s body and brain halts to a sudden stop. He whines as all touches withdraw from his cock.

“God, Eddie, Eddie, what the fuck?” He hisses, looking down at Eddie with wide eyes. Eddie smiles, hungry and violent. 

“Something wrong, Buck?” 

“Someth- what? Why did you stop?” He asks, painfully aware that he is, in fact, pouting, but he can’t help it. “Fuck, Eddie, I was so close.” 

Eddie’s lips twitch. 

He stands, and Buck watches as Eddie wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, turns on his heels and starts walking.

“I know.” Eddie throws over his shoulder, and shivers wreck down his body, because Eddie did it on purpose. 

“Oh my God.” He whispers, as he looks down at his dick, red and rock hard, leaking all over.

“If you touch yourself, I’ll know.” Eddie says, somewhere behind him, like maybe he can fucking read minds. Jesus. “And you won’t like the punishment for it, baby.” 

(Focus, Buck.)

Eddie’s words sink in his skin, tendrils made of dark promises and blissful pain wrapping around his heart, his limbs, his minds. They settle over him like a warm blanket, releasing him from the burden of having to make any decisions for himself. 

“Fuck.” He whispers, and Eddie’s delighted laugh rings in his head. “You’re such a dick.” 

“Why don’t you make us some breakfast, baby? We’re gonna be late.” 

“Fuck.” He says again, and Eddie doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t need to. Buck knows an order when he gets one.

(Focus, Buck.) 

So he clenches his fists tightly, digging his nails in, trying to keep his hands from his dick. It takes every bit of his willpower to pull his pants back up, and it’s uncomfortable as hell, walking with such a raging hard on, but he’s been in worse situations.

Once he’s in the kitchen, he forces himself to take a few deep breaths. Then another, just for good measure. 

Once he’s confident his legs won’t shake apart under him, he gets to work. A quick glance at the clock informs him that they are in fact behind schedule, and so he makes a fresh pot of coffee, and starts on the pancake batter. 

His cock has gone down by the time he’s done. He grabs himself a fresh cup of coffee and makes one for Eddie too. 

(With the sweet caramel syrup that he bought specifically for Eddie, because Eddie would never buy it for himself, but Buck knows, so he bought it, and now he gets to hear Eddie’s happy groan every morning.)

(So maybe it was a bit for himself too, sue him.) 

So he’s thinking about the coffee, and the pancake batter, and the hot pan, and maybe that’s why he doesn’t hear Eddie come in the kitchen. Maybe that’s why he jumps when Eddie’s arms wrap around his waist, Eddie’s chin hooked on his shoulder.

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

(They don’t do this.)

(Eddie doesn’t come in the kitchen to hug him from behind while he makes breakfast, he doesn’t press kisses against the nape of Buck’s neck, humming softly.)

(Domestic and familiar and downright loving, they don’t do this.) 

“Eddie.” The name slips unbidden from his lips, the batter all but forgotten in front of him, and he feels Eddie’s smile against his neck. 

“Smells good, babe.”
(They don’t call each other babe either.)
(They don’t call each other anything but Buck and Eddie, they don’t do this, they-

Eddie’s hand slips down the front of his sweatpants. 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

Oh.

Right. 

(It’s fine.)

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

Eddie’s hand is distracting, and so are his lips, attached to the junction of Buck’s neck, sucking softly. 

“Eddie.” He says again, feeling his cock fill up in Eddie’s hand. Eddie’s stroking him with deadly precisions, in the exact way Buck likes, the glide made smoother by the precum leaking from his tip again and the leftover of Eddie’s saliva from earlier. 

“Feels good, cariño?” 

“Yeah” He breathes out, thrusting in Eddie’s hand. He lets his eyes slip close, leaning back against Eddie’s chest, and Eddie’s solid and sturdy behind him, like he always is. “Yeah, Eddie, like that.” 

“Mh, you feel so good, baby.” Eddie says, voice low and sultry, and he moans quietly, gripping the edge of the counter when his legs shake a little below him. If it took him only a few minutes to get on the edge before, it takes him even less now. 

“Eddie.” He says, turning his face to catch Eddie’s lips in a bruising kiss. The angle is a bit awkward, but he doesn’t care. Eddie’s mouth tastes like caramel and toothpaste, and his hand is speeding up and Buck can feel it, so close. “Fuck, I’m so close, I’m- Eddie.” 

Eddie’s hand is gone.

(Focus, Buck.)

He whines, sudden, unwanted tears burning in his eyes. He’s moving before he can really think about it.

“Don’t touch.” Eddie’s stern voice rings in his ears just like before, and his own hand freezes mid air. He moans, squeezing his eyes shut against the waves of frustration and pleasure crashing against him.

“Christ.” He exhales, his voice shaky. He feels shaky, right on the edge of a precipice. “Eddie.” 

Eddie’s there, still, always, plastered behind his back. He runs soft hands under Buck’s shirt, over his burning skin, and his touch is delicate, but it feels like electricity on his skin. He tenses and Eddie laughs quietly at him.

“Fuck, Eds.” He chokes out. “Fuck, please, please, I’m so close.”
“No.” Eddie says again, one hand traveling up to pinch his nipple, and he moans quietly, thrusts his hips forward and his dick bumps against the counter. He whines again, violent shocks of pleasure frying through him. 

“Please.” 

Eddie pinches harder, his knees almost buckle under him.

“Tell me who you belong to, Buck.” Eddie says, smile vanished, and it scrambles Buck’s brain, darkness pulling at the edges of his vision. The authority in Eddie’s voice makes his blood buzz, rushing with adrenaline, alight and burning. He takes a shallow breath, wills himself to hold still. 

“You.” He whispers, splaying both his hands on the counter, so he won’t be tempted to touch again. Eddie hums, his lips press against his neck again.

“Good.” He says, and Buck nods. “And who decides if and when you can come?”
“Y-you do. You do.” 

“Good boy.” Eddie says, low and hoarse, and it settles in Buck’s chest like a warm, golden light. It fills him up, quiets his brain in a way that allows him to take the first deep breath since he woke up this morning. “Good, Buck, so good for me.”
“Eds.” He mumbles, reality turning liquid and hazy around them, the way it always does when Eddie talks to him like this. 

But then Eddie’s gone. 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

Eddie’s not really gone. He’s sitting at the table, right behind him, but he’s not quite looking at Buck anymore, attention on his phone. 

“The pancakes, Buck.” Eddie says, voice neutral and normal again, but Buck doesn’t miss the twitching of his lips. He’s enjoying this far too much. Asshole. “Buck?”

The pancakes are burning.

“Shit, shit, shit.” 

The first two pancakes are burnt. Buck makes Eddie eat them, while he makes himself two new ones, because really, it’s all his fault anyway. 

Eddie eats them with a poorly-concealed smile between one bite and the next. 

(Focus, Buck.)

It feels like it’s gonna be a long day. 

***

Eddie’s trying to kill him. 

Buck knows that because he’s about to die, and the only other person in the room is Eddie. 

“Fuck.” He says, painfully aware of how desperate it sounds, but he doesn’t even care.

“Quiet, Buck.” Eddie snaps, voice hard and rough. A hand clams around Buck’s mouth then, and any hopes of Buck being quiet goes flying out of the window. His eyes roll against his skull and he pushes back against Eddie’s firm body, sucking his cock deeper inside him. 

Eddie laughs, dark and low, teeth sinking in the curve of Buck’s neck.

“God, you love this, don’t you?” Eddie asks, and Buck nods, because fuck, he does. 

(Focus, Buck.)

“You gotta be quiet, baby.” Eddie whispers. “You don’t want anyone coming in here and finding you like this, do you?” 

He shakes his head as much as Eddie’s tight grip will let him. His body is tensed and wired, caught between Eddie and the shelves of the storage room. Dim light shines around them as Eddie fucks into him with abandon. 

“Though maybe you would like it.” Eddie says, mean in that way that has Buck’s stomach flip and his blood rush south. “Attention whore like you, bet you’d get off on it.” 

He whines against Eddie’s hand, spit pooling in his mouth. 

“Yeah, you like that, baby? Desperate, needy little thing like you.” 

Eddie will kill him.

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

The drag of Eddie’s cock against his prostate is delicious, the friction perfect, and Buck clenches his fingers in the metal shelves in front of him so he won’t reach down to touch his own cock, hanging uselessly between his legs, because Eddie told him don’t touch. 

Eddie’s hand is gone then, and a moan rips out of his throat as Eddie’s thrusts turn faster and deeper.

“Fuck, Eddie.” He chokes out. “I’m so close, Eddie, Eds, please, please, I’m- I’m so close, I need-

“You need to come?” Eddie asks, and Buck can hear the smirk in his voice even without turning to look at him. He nods fervently, biting his lips to hold back a string of moans so loud he’s sure the entire firehouse will hear them, if they haven’t already.

(Buck’s not very good at being quiet.) 

(Focus, Buck.)

“Yeah, yeah, Eds, please.” He says, and even as he does, he knows what answer he’ll get. 

It doesn’t suck any less.

“No.” Eddie says, and he lets out a choked sob. Eddie’s fingers dig in his waist, and all Buck can do is hold on. Eddie’s hands are everywhere, burning bruises on every inch of his skin, and he wishes they’d never leave. 

“Christ, Buck, baby.” Eddie grits out, hips faltering and pace stuttering. “Fuck, you feel so good, amorcito, so good.” 

Eddie’s coming then, buried deep inside him, with Buck’s name caught between his teeth, and Buck groans as Eddie fucks him through it, riding the high. He’s shaking against the shelves, he knows he is, can’t quite get himself to stop. 

“Shit.” Eddie groans, pulling out, and there’s a few seconds of shuffling around and a curse when Eddie’s elbow hits one of the shelves, and then Buck’s being turned around. 

(Focus, Buck.)

Eddie pushes him against the shelves, boxing him with his arms, and Buck digs his fingers in Eddie’s shoulders so he won’t reach down. He pulls Eddie in a bruising kiss, and it makes his dick jump, and he feels wound up tight, so desperate he might die.

“Eddie.” He breathes out. “Eddie, please.” 

“Not yet, sweetheart.” Eddie replies, leaning in to kiss him again. “Don’t be eager, cariño.” 

He swallows hard, and even in the dim light of the cramped closet space, he can feel Eddie’s eyes on his throat. 

“You’re gonna kill me.” He says, when he thinks his voice might hold up. It doesn’t, cracking immediately, and Eddie smiles, steals one more kiss from him, short and sweet, like he didn’t just fuck the living daylight out of him. 

(Buck loves him so much that sometimes, times like this, it threatens to spill over and rip him apart.) 

(He wouldn’t even care, not if Eddie kept holding him like this.)

(Focus, Buck.)

“How many- how many do you want?” He asks, voice rough and hoarse and Eddie smiles against his skin, fingers squeezing Buck’s cock again, and his knees almost give out under him. They would have, if not for the bruising grip that Eddie’s other hand has on his waist.

“Don’t you worry your pretty head, baby.” Eddie says, and blush rushes to his cheeks. “Just know it’ll be a long day for you.” 

“You’re evil.” 

“You like it.” 

He hums, and doesn’t disagree, because he does. God, he does. 

(Focus, Buck.)

“We better get cleaned up, before someone comes in for real.” Eddie says, pulling out slowly, and Buck bites back a groan.
“Yeah, or the alarm goes off.” 

Eddie’s fingers swipe over his dick again, dipping in the precum that’s leaking from the tip and he groans quietly, leaning back against the shelves when the ground shakes under his feet.

“Eddie.” He says, but then, Eddie’s pulling back too, just enough to smile at him, just enough to slide the same finger past Buck’s lips. Buck sucks the digit in immediately, wrapping his tongue around it to clean it off from his own precum, salty on his tongue. He watches Eddie’s eyes blow dark again.

Eddie stares at him, at his mouth, unblinking. He pushes another finger inside Buck’s mouth, and Buck lets him, cleaning that up too, running his tongue over his knuckles, lost to the weight of Eddie’s thick fingers on his tongue, the feeling of them, the calluses and rough texture of his skin.

“Dios, amorcito.” Eddie whispers, quiet, a secret between them. “Fuck, the way you look right now. Fuckin’ sinful.” 

Eddie’s words turn into a low drawl, his accent slipping back in like it always does when he’s not paying attention, turning Buck’s inside upside-down. 

He groans quietly in response, fighting to keep his eyes open and on Eddie as darkness pulls at his mind. Eddie’s fingers press on his tongue and he gags a little. 

“You’d let me do anything, wouldn’t you?” Eddie asks, veneration dripping in his voice and Buck nods, eyes watering as Eddie’s fingers slip further down his throat. “Dios, Buck.” 

Another finger, just as salty, Eddie fucks his fingers inside Buck’s mouth, and they’re half-naked and pressed together, and Eddie’s other hand slips into his curls, tugs until he tilts his head back. 

“Ed’ie.” He says, and it comes out hoarse and garbled, spit running down his chin. Eddie’s smile is sharp, vicious, hungry. Buck’s cock is so hard it hurts. 

“I’m gonna ruin you, Buck.” Eddie says, fucking his fingers inside Buck’s mouth, and he groans, gags, tears flow down his cheeks and mix with the saliva on his chin. 

Please.

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

Eddie’s fingers are gone then. 

Buck stumbles, Eddie’s laugh echoing in his ears and making his heart stutter, body thrumming with pain and pleasure, the mix heavy, intoxicating, addicting. 

“C’mon, Buck, we gotta get cleaned up.” Eddie says, totally normal, like he didn’t have his fingers down Buck’s throat not ten seconds ago, or his dick inside Buck’s hole not five minutes ago.

The switch up is fast enough to give him whiplash, he feels all turned around, back on the edge with his dick still so hard it could fucking cut glass, and he can’t breathe. 

(Focus, Buck.)

Eddie is smirking at him, because he’s a bastard and he knows perfectly well what he’s doing to Buck, and so Buck flips him off. 

Eddie kisses him, quick and soft, a peak of his lips, pulling back immediately. 

“Remember your safeword.” It’s all Eddie says, and then he’s slipping out of the storage room, leaving Buck to pull up his pants alone. Asshole. 

(If he can’t quite wipe the smile off his face, then that’s his business.) 

(Focus, Buck.)

***

The shift is okay. It’s not especially bad. It’s not especially good. 

At hour 13 of 24, they come back to the station covered in soot from an apartment fire a few blocks away. Chatters fill the truck and the station as they get off. 

The rescue went well, no casualties, Hen and Chim are right behind them in the ambulance, so overall, Buck’s feeling pretty good. 

He bounces off the truck, shoulder to shoulder with Eddie like they always seem to be these days. 

(Since they’ve met, really.) 

“Hey, Buck, can you do me a favor?” Eddie asks him, and Buck nods before he even hears the rest of it. “Can you go upstairs and grab my phone charger? I think I left it by the couch and my phone’s a second away from dying.” Eddie says, and Buck blinks at him.

They’re covered in soot and grime. Eddie’s cheeks are dark with dust and smoke. There’s ash in Buck’s hair. 

Surely, they can shower first and charge Eddie’s phone after. 

He’s about to say as much, when he looks into Eddie’s eyes, dark and dangerous. The hunger there is familiar to him now, and before he knows it, Buck’s turning and walking upstairs. He does not run. He doesn’t. 

(Focus, Buck.)

Eddie’s phone charger is not by the couch. It’s not plugged anywhere around it either. He frowns, looking around. The loft is almost empty, a couple of other firefighters hanging by the kitchen, but as their team finishes their showers, it fills up a bit more, and Buck still hasn’t found the damn charger. 

He finally spots it several minutes later, in the plug in the kitchen by the fridge. Eddie must have forgotten where he plugged it, or maybe someone moved it. It doesn’t really matter. They’ve been back for almost ten minutes, and Buck still hasn’t taken a damn shower. 

(Focus, Buck.)

Downstairs, Eddie’s exactly where Buck left him, leaning against the firetruck, looking absolutely criminal in just his LAFD undershirt and a faint stubble on his cheeks. He smiles when he spots Buck, looking up like he sensed Buck’s presence. Buck smiles back, showing him the charger.

“It was by the fridge.” He says, handing it to him. Eddie takes it.

“Thanks, Buck.” He says, and then he’s walking and there’s a hand on the small of Buck’s back, and all he can do is bite back a moan. He sees Eddie’s lips twitch. 

“Eddie.” He hisses, and Eddie’s doesn’t look at him, as they approach the lockers.

“Grab your things, Buck. We both need a shower.” Eddie says, and it sounds normal, but Buck hears the control in his voice, the authority seeping into it and wrapping around Buck’s body like silk rope. 

He nods, throat dry as sandpaper, as he opens his locker to grab some toiletries and a fresh change of clothes, before following Eddie to the showers. They’re empty, everyone is already done. 

They’re empty, and Buck gets it.

“You didn’t need your charger, did you?” 

“‘course I did, Buck.” Eddie says, but he’s biting back a smile, and Buck doesn’t buy it for a second. 

Especially because as soon as Buck turns on the water and strips down, Eddie pounces. 

“Fuck.” He grits out as Eddie presses him against the tiles, ice-cold on his flushed skin. Eddie groans in his mouth, slotting their legs together and locking the stall behind himself. 

“We’re alone, but you might still want to be quiet, baby.” Eddie says, flipping around and Buck braces his hands on the wall, slippery with condensation.

“Christ, Eddie.” He breathes out as Eddie’s finger breaches his hole, with the help of soap and water and spit. The drag isn’t as smooth as it is with lube, but the edge of pain runs down his spine like liquid fire, and Buck arches into it, against Eddie’s hand. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight, sweetheart. It’s like you can’t get enough, isn’t that right, baby?”
“No, no, Eddie, I need you, need you so bad.” 

“I can tell.” Eddie says with a quiet laugh, and then Buck jumps as Eddie’s hand wraps around his dick. He’s hard in seconds, so fast that he almost feels woozy at the sudden lack of blood in his brain, but Eddie’s hands are steady around his waist. 

(Focus, Buck.)

“Eddie.” He chokes out. “Fuck, feels so good, please, Eddie.” 

“So needy.” Eddie whispers, leaning down to suck bruises on Buck’s back, where they’ll be covered by the uniform. 

(And even if they weren’t, Buck would wear them with pride.) 

(Focus, Buck.)

Eddie opens him quickly and efficiently, and despite Eddie’s comment, he’s still a bit loose from their previous escapades in the storage closet earlier, so it doesn’t take long. It doesn’t take long at all, and somehow, Buck’s so hard that he thinks that if Eddie even brushes his dick, he’ll explode. 

He’s on the edge so quickly he can’t breathe, legs shaking and heart racing, pleasure burning him from the inside out, all consuming and devastating. Eddie’s fingers brush against his prostate, relentless and determined, and every single muscle in body tenses as he tries to hold back the orgasm he feels building. 

“Eddie.” He pants, entirely out of breath. “Eddie, fuck, fuck, I’m so close, Eds, I’m- please, please, let-

“No.” Eddie says, and it rips a sob out of him. Tears and water slide down his cheek, the shower warm on his skin, and he almost considers turning it ice-cold, so maybe it’ll put his dick to sleep. Buck looks down at it, it’s leaking between his legs and on the tiled floor, down the drain, the tip an angry red. 

He clenches his hands, fighting every instinct in him that begs him to just reach down and touch.

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

Eddie’s teeth sink in his shoulder and the pain is sharp enough, real enough, to snap some clarity in the haziness of his brain. 

“Eddie.” He says again, and Eddie’s there, plastered against his back, their bodies slippery with soap and water and still tasting like smoke and salt. 

“Right here, sweetheart.” Eddie whispers, hands fitting over his waist, over the same bruises he put there earlier. “You look so pretty, Buck, you know I love it when you cry.” 

It only serves to make more tears spring from his eyes, and he can’t breathe. Jesus fuck.

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

Eddie’s hands are on his wrists, pushing and pulling until Buck finally gets the hint and puts them behind his back, so his face is pressed against the tiles and he’s fully trapped between the wall and Eddie’s body. Eddie kicks his legs apart a little more and he feels so unsteady, held up only by the tight grip of Eddie’s hands on his wrists and waist.

“You should see yourself, cariño, so fucking pretty it’s criminal, baby.” Eddie whispers, and then he’s pushing in with one, long, individual movement, until he’s fully seated inside Buck’s body.

He writhes under Eddie, legs shaking terribly and dick so hard that a breeze might send him over the edge. Want burns like a forest fire inside his chest, turning his blood to liquid lava and his brain into a puddle, the world reducing the drag of Eddie’s cock inside him and his fingers on Buck’s body and his voice in Buck’s ear. 

“So fuckin’ gorgeous, Buck, Dios, babe, you should see yourself.” 

Eddie’s pace is brutal, every snap of his hips driving him deeper and harder, pounding right against his battered prostate, and he doesn’t know how long he can hold back.

“Eddie.” He chokes out, blinking the tears and water from his eyes. “Ed- Eddie- I- I- can’t- I’m so- so close, baby, p-please, please, please-

“No.” Eddie bites, and then his hand is closing at the base of Buck’s dick, so hard it hurts, and it rips another sob out of him. He squeezes his fists and Eddie’s hand squeezes his dick, and he can’t fucking breathe. “Who do you belong to, Buck?” 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

It’s so unfair of Eddie to ask him a question when he feels his brain melting out of his ears. 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

Eddie’s fingers squeeze again, harder, it hurts, Jesus, it hurts a lot, and somehow he feels even closer to coming than he did before.

“You.” He breathes out. “Yours, Eds, I’m- I’m yours.”

Eddie groans, hips stuttering. 

“That’s fuckin’ right, baby.” Eddie grits out, doesn’t let go of his dick. “Say it again, Buck.” 

“Yours.” He chokes out, fucking back against Eddie, because it hurts, and it’s almost too much, and it’s not nearly enough, and it feels so good, he feels high on it. “You, Eddie, o-only you, yours, yours, I’m- fuck- yours-

“Buck.” 

Eddie comes like that, with a final push that rocks him so hard he almost loses his balance, if not for the way Eddie’s holding him, so tight he couldn’t fall even if he tried. 

(Focus, Buck.)

Eddie’s hand rests between his shoulder blades as he catches his breath, and Buck too would love to get some oxygen back into his lungs, but he can’t seem to remember how breathing works. He’s panting, squeezing his eyes shut at the intense waves of pleasure and desperate want that fill him up over and over every time Eddie shifts inside him. He almost comes when Eddie pulls out and he feels cum sliding between his thighs. He does moan. 

“Eddie.” 

“Dios mio, amorcito.” Eddie whispers, so quiet that maybe Buck wasn’t meant to hear it, but he did, and it makes his heart do backflips in his chest. His cock twitches, more precum spurting from the tip, and he can’t stop shaking in the effort to hold back the orgasm he feels at his fingertips. 

(Focus, Buck.)

“Jesus.” Eddie says again, and then Buck feels Eddie’s finger slip into his hole, pushing the cum back in, and he chokes out a sob. He arches under Eddie’s fingers, lost when he hears the sharp gasp Eddie takes. “You look- you’re a vision like this, Buck.” 

It sends his heart down a flight of stairs, and it makes his dick twitch so hard that he thinks that maybe he’ll come anyway. 

“Eddie, you- please-

Words have left him, and he stops breathing entirely when he feels Eddie’s thumb press the cum back inside his hole again, slipping inside to tease his reddened rim, the sounds of it obscene, the look on Eddie’s face one of adoration. 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

“Eddie.” He breathes out, and Eddie looks up at him with desperation in his eyes and his cock half-hard again. “Eddie, please.” 

Eddie spins him around, kisses him. 

Eddie’s mouth is hot and wet, and he tastes like smoke and the coffee they had earlier. Eddie kisses him like a starved man in the desert, like a praying man at the altar, and Buck lets himself be devoured, droplets of water falling  into Eddie’s hair and sticking a few dark strands to his forehead. 

Eddie boxes him against the shower, the tiles cold, and he relishes in it, they feel like a blessing against the fire that threatens to burn him from the inside out. 

(Focus, Buck.)

Eddie only stops kissing him when they have to come up for air, and even then, he doesn’t go very far. 

“Turn around.” Eddie says, and he shivers.

“I- I can’t- if you touch me right now, I’m gonna-

“Come?” Eddie asks, a teasing smile pulling at his lips. Buck nods, because yeah, he is. Eddie’s smile widens. “Don’t worry, I’m done with you. For now.” 

Eddie’s smile is sharp, teeth bared and canines out, predatory. His dick twitches again. 

“You’re gonna fucking kill me, Eds.” He says again, and Eddie laughs, and it fills his chest with glowing warmth.
He turns around anyway, and he jumps a little when Eddie’s hands land on his shoulders.

“Relax.” Eddie says, leaning in to press a kiss into his shoulders, and Buck forces himself to take a deep breath. 

“Easy for you to say.” He says. “You’re not the one being edged in your workplace.” 

Eddie’s laugh is short, surprised, and Buck smiles to himself, because he always likes making Eddie laugh. Eddie’s smile is pretty, bright, it makes his eyes shine. 

“Tilt your head back.” Eddie says, and Buck does, looking up at the ceiling and closing his eyes as water falls on his face. 

(Focus, Buck.)

Eddie’s fingers are in his hair then, massaging shampoo into his scalp, delicate but firm. He groans, leaning back into Eddie a bit more, and he feels Eddies’s quiet laugh on his wet skin. 

“Good?” Eddie asks, and all Buck can do is hum in agreement.

(Focus, Buck.)

It’s quiet, the space filled with the sound of the shower and the occasional pleased sigh that escapes him. He’s not hard anymore, but this feels good too, so good. There’s not a single thought in his head, quiet and peaceful and so relaxing that he could fall asleep like this. 

He could, he really could.

(He can imagine it, coming home after a long shift, drawing a bath in Eddie’s bathroom, slipping in the warm water together.) 

(And he can pretend too, just for a second, that Eddie’s doing this because he loves Buck too.) 

(Focus, Buck.) 

“Keep your eyes closed.” Eddie says, rinsing his hair, too soon. He wants to stay like this forever. Eddie’s hands brush through his hair, smoothing out the knots that formed under his helmet. He’s gentle with it, with Buck. 

Eddie’s lips press against his shoulder, they don’t go anywhere else, just a kiss for the sake of it. 

(Too soft, too pure, too good.) 

(It’s not what they do, it’s not how people kiss Buck, it’s not how people touch Buck.) 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

“Eddie.” He whispers, unsure why, and his voice sounds wet even to his own ears, and he doesn't know what to do with the sudden heaviness in his chest, the tightness that threatens to choke him. 

“Jus’ relax, baby.” Eddie says. “I’ve got you.” 

(Focus, Buck.)

It eases the tension in his chest, lets oxygen flow back into his lungs. He feels Eddie’s smile against his shoulder, where his lips are still pressed, and he finds himself smiling too. It’s good. This is good. 

(Focus, Buck.)

Eddie pulls back, eventually. 

Buck has no idea how long it’s been, since they came in the showers, or since Eddie started washing his hair. Time feels liquid, reality blurry. Eddie’s steady in the middle of it, solid and golden even under the fluorescent lights of the bathroom. 

They don’t really talk, while they get out of the showers. It’s quiet still in the locker room, as they get dressed again.

“Hey.” Eddie’s voice snaps him out of his head, the buzz in his blood dying down. He looks up at him, and Eddie’s smile, uncertain and shaky. 

“You okay?” He asks immediately, and Eddie just stares at him for a second, laughs, nods.

“Yeah, I was about to ask you the same question.”
“Oh.” He says, warmth curling in his chest. “Yeah, I’m good.” 

“Okay.” Eddie says, coming closer, just a little, just one step, enough for Buck to get a whiff of him, of the same body wash he’s also wearing, and of Eddie, of pine and of the earth.

(Home.) 

“You’re good to keep going?” Eddie asks him, a faint blush coloring his cheeks, and it makes Buck smile. “You know you can call this off whenever you want, right? I won’t be mad.” 

(I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you-

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He says, smiling back. “I’m good, Eds.”
Eddie nods, his smile widening.

“Cool.” Eddie says. Buck nods. 

“C’mon, I heard Bobby was making dinner.” 

***

At hour 18 of their 24 hours shift, Buck is sleeping. Was sleeping. 

One of Eddie’s hands is on his mouth. Eddie’s lips are attached to his neck. Eddie’s other hand is holding both of Buck’s wrists behind his back. Eddie’s dick is buried deep inside him. 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

The bunk room is dead silent, because it’s 4am. Most of the bunks are full of firefighters sleeping. Buck’s pretty sure he’s going to die.

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

“Fuck.” Eddie hisses, so quiet that Buck only hears it because it’s whispered directly into his ear. They’re on their sides and facing the wall on Buck’s bed, where he was peacefully sleeping only ten minutes ago, before Eddie decided to slide under his blanket and fuck him into an early grave. 

Eddie’s body is a warm line of heat behind his back, where he’s curled around Buck to grind deep inside him, his space slow and tortuous. Eddie’s cock rubs against his prostate insistently, and the bed creaks a little when Eddie gives a particularly harsh snap of his hips.

He can’t breathe, he really can’t fucking breathe. 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

The anxiety of being in such an obvious, open, incredibly public space is sending adrenaline rushing through his veins, scrambling his brain. Blood echoes in his ears along with Eddie’s heavy breath, mind hazy and blurry with the desperate need to come burning through him, the knowledge that Eddie won’t let him, the thrill of being discovered.
It’s taking everything in him to hold still and quiet. Eddie’s hand is covering his mouth, forcing his head back, and he couldn’t really move if he tried, not with the way Eddie’s holding his wrists, but fuck, it feels good, so good, liquid and burning and alive.

(Focus, Buck.)

A small moan makes it past his throat when the bed creaks again, and he can’t breathe. 

“Quiet.” Eddie snaps immediately, still barely louder than a whisper, and he nods, tears burning in his eyes. His cock is so hard, trapped under his boxers that Eddie’s barely pulled down before fingering him open again. 

The pleasure is razor-sharp, almost too much, not nearly enough. 

(Focus, Buck.)

Eddie’s hand shifts on his mouth, two fingers slip past his lips, press on his tongue. He forces himself to not gag, spit pooling under his face immediately, staining the pillow, and Eddie hisses again, pace stuttering, picking up. 

Eddie’s other hand lets go of his wrists to close on his waist instead, holding him steady as he shifts to pull back and fuck into Buck harder, the bed groans ominously, they’re being so loud in the dead silence of the room. It would take one second, someone getting up to piss and turning on a flashlight, anything. 

(It shouldn’t be so hot, it shouldn’t make his cock leak in his underwear, it shouldn’t make him so fucking desperate.)

(Focus, Buck.)

Another finger slips into his mouth, pressing down his tongue and down his throat and it spasms against the intrusion, and he fights with himself to not gag out loud. Electricity fires down his spine when Eddie pounds against his prostate, and he feels tears slip free from his eyes, he’s so wound up and so close, and he can’t come and it’s the sweetest kind of torture. 

“Buck.” Eddie bites, and it’s all the warning he gets before he feels Eddie’s fuck into him a couple of more times, spilling inside the condom. Christ.

He can’t believe this just happened.

“Shit.” Eddie whispers, and then he’s pulling his fingers out of Buck’s mouth, and rolling on his back in this bed that’s far too small for two grown men like them. Buck’s skin is sweaty and his face feels like a mess, and he’s still so hard it might kill him. He can’t breathe, clenching his own wrists behind his back to stop himself from reaching out. God, he’s so hard it hurts, it feels like balancing on the edge of a knife, he can’t breathe.

(Focus, Buck.)

Eddie’s there, his hands guide him to lay down on his back, press Buck’s wrists in the mattress as Eddie shifts on top of him, sliding one leg between Buck’s thighs and he whimpers, he can’t help it, the friction on his dick minimal and still far too much for how close he is. 

Eddie’s quiet laugh echoes against his chest as he presses Buck in the mattress, lips claiming Buck’s in a bruising kiss. 

(Focus, Buck.) 

Eddie kisses him like he can’t get enough, like he might die if he stops. He licks into his mouth like he’s trying to memorize every inch of it, hungry and possessive and greedy. He licks the tears from Buck’s cheeks, and it takes all he has to not moan out loud. Eddie’s hand slips over his throat and his hips snap against Eddie’s thigh. 

“No.” It’s all Eddie says, still so quiet, and Buck nods, shaking with the effort of holding himself back. He wants and wants and wants and it’s going to drive him crazy. 

(Focus, Buck.) 

“Relax.” Eddie says, fingers squeezing around his throat, and then he really can’t breathe, haziness overtaking his brain, the room melting out of focus. He goes soft under Eddie’s body, sinks in the emptiness of his mind, the delicious buzz in his blood, the pleasure tingling inside him. 

Eddie lets him go just as his lungs start burning, and Buck sucks in a deep breath, then another, leans up to catch Eddie’s lips in another kiss. Eddie lets him.

“Good boy.” Eddie whispers, right across his lips, and he bites his lips until he tastes blood. Eddie kisses him again, and it tastes like salt and copper. 

Eddie’s hand squeezes around his throat again, and Buck lets his eyes fall shut. Eddie’s still kissing him, but he can’t do much more than keep his mouth open and let Eddie take anything he wants. 

He doesn't know how long it goes on for. He loses count of how many times Eddie’s hand squeezes and relaxes. His brain shuts down after a while, his dick goes down, and the entire world reduces to the press of Eddie’s body and the oxygen burning his lungs. 

(Focus, Buck.)

At some point, Eddie stops, rolling off him and slipping out of the bed, probably to go clean himself up. He’d ask, but he can’t string enough words together for it. Eddie’s fingers swipe through his hair, gentle, Eddie’s always so gentle with him when they’re like this, and it brings more tears to his eyes.

“Sleep.” Eddie says, and before he knows it, he’s gone. 

***

The end of the shift can’t come fast enough.

(Buck can and will.) 

(Ha.)

He’s practically vibrating with excitement at the prospect of leaving the firehouse. In his car. With Eddie. Because they drove to work together.

(Yes, he’s down bad, he knows.) 

(Focus, Buck.)

He knows Eddie isn’t doing any better. 

For the past two hours, Eddie’s been constantly staring at him. He felt Eddie’s eyes on his back while making breakfast with Bobby. He felt them while talking to Hen and Chim over the first cup of coffee of the day. He felt them on the scene of the car accident they just left. And he most certainly feels them now, as they change out of their uniform and in civilian clothes. 

It’s 8am, the sun is bright, Christ is at school, and Buck’s about to get fucked within an inch of his life. 

So yeah, he’s excited. 

(Focus, Buck.)

“Ready to go?” He asks once Eddie comes out of the locker room, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Eddie’s eyes are hungry, dark, a single-minded focus in them that has Buck’s knees go a little weak. 

“Ready to go.” Eddie confirms, voice low, and Buck feels himself blush.

“Hen, they’re doing it again.” Chim says, somewhere behind him, but the words don’t register, and neither does Hen’s hushed voice. Nothing matters but Eddie. 

(Focus, Buck.)

It takes an herculean effort to drag his eyes away from Eddie long enough to bid everyone goodbye and climb in his car. He slides in the driver seat like he always does, because Eddie hates to drive. The radio comes alive, playing music softly as Buck gets them on the road. 

He feels Eddie’s gaze on the side of his face like a tangible weight, and he can’t help glance at him every minute or so as well, can’t help the blush rising to his face every time he catches Eddie’s eyes and devious smile. 

(It makes his knees go weak.) 

“Eyes on the road, Buck.” Eddie says, but then, his hand is sliding over Buck’s thigh and all he can do is try to not make them crash. He forces his eyes on the road. They’re not far from home- Eddie’s house. 

“Eddie.” He says, half-pleading, half-threatening. He can practically feel the smirk on Eddie’s face.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?” 

(Focus, Buck.)

He doesn’t swerve, thank you very much. Eddie’s fingers rise up on his thigh, brush against the bulge in his pants, and he almost feels dizzy with how quickly his blood rushes south. Christ.

“Don’t.” He says, holding the steering-wheel so tightly his knuckles go white. 

“Why not?” Eddie asks, fingers pressing in, just a bit and Buck forces himself to keep breathing. 

“You’re gonna get us killed.” He mumbles, and Eddie laughs, actually, out loud, and it makes Buck’s heart stutter. Eddie’s hand is gone then, and when Buck glances at him, Eddie is looking out of the window, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“Nah.” Eddie says, easy, simple. “I trust you.” 

Buck turns off the car, steps out, his hands shake while he fumbles for the keys, Eddie is no help. 

“Shut up.”
“Someone’s excited.” Eddie says, his voice is lower, deeper, a drawl in Buck’s ear, so close that he feels Eddie’s warm breath on his skin. He drops the keys, bends over quickly to pick them up again, Eddie’s laugh is amused. 

“Shut up.” He says again. “This is your fault.” 

“Don’t worry baby, promise I’ll make it up to you.” Eddie says, and Buck finally manages to unlock the door. He’s never been happier to get home- Eddie’s house.  

(Focus, Buck.)

The door closes, and Buck is pushed up against it. 

He groans in Eddie’s mouth, the kiss is pent up, desperate, bruising. Eddie licks into his mouth like he’s trying to eat him alive, and fuck, Buck would let him. He opens up under Eddie’s insistent lips, lets him lick into his mouth, lets Eddie’s hands drag him along as they stumble and trip down the hallway. 

Eddie’s bed is familiar like everything else in this house is. He falls on it, he’s pushed on it, really, and Eddie’s on him in a split second. 

More kissing, Eddie bites his lip and electricity shoots down his spine. He’s so hard, Christ, he’s been hard for an eternity.

“Eddie.” He says, and it comes out whiney and needy already, and he doesn’t care, because Eddie’s kept him on the edge for hours. “Eddie, c’mon, c’mon, please.”
“Desperate.” Eddie says, condescending, and it makes heat burn in his face, in his guts. 

“Yeah.” He replies, though, because he is desperate. “Please, I’ll do- I’ll do anythin’, Eds, please.” 

“On your knees, baby.” 

He’s on the floor in a split second. 

“Take off your shirt.”
Gone in a breath. 

Eddie smiles, towering over him. He runs a hand through Buck’s curls, the other undoing his belt, and Buck’s eyes zero on it, on the bulge in Eddie’s jeans and then his underwear and then finally his cock, standing hard right in front of his face. He doesn’t realize he’s leaning in until Eddie’s pulling at his hair to hold him upright. 

“You want it, baby?”
“Yeah.” He breathes out, looking up at Eddie and meeting his eyes, the gold swallowed by the black. He’s so beautiful, like this.

(Focus, Buck.)

“Yeah, Eds, yeah, I want it, I want it so bad, please.” 

“Good boy.” Eddie whispers, and it sends shivers down his spine. “Open up, baby.” 

Buck does, and then Eddie’s dick is sliding over his tongue, salty with precum already, and he moans, pulling against Eddie’s grip to get it deeper inside his throat. He’s dying for it, the weight familiar on his tongue, the taste addicting. 

He groans quietly when Eddie’s cock hits the back of his throat, and he crosses his wrists behind his back, partly because of muscle memory and instinct, partly because he knows he’s not allowed to touch his own dick, and at this speed, he won’t be able to help himself. 

“Fuck, you’re so good, Buck, baby, look at you.” 

He moans again, Eddie’s grip tightens on his curls. There’s a mute question in Eddie’s eyes, but he knows anyway, because he always knows what Eddie wants, his body forever molding itself into something Eddie might like, might want to keep. 

He nods. 

“Fuck.”
Eddie fucks his mouth with abandon, no time to get used to it. Eddie’s cock slides in and out of his mouth quickly, Eddie’s thrusts rapid and deep, sliding down his throat like he’s trying to get buried there. Please. 

His lungs burn with the need for oxygen, but he doesn’t move. He lets Eddie take and take and take, and it’s so easy to get lost in it, the scent and taste of Eddie filling him up. 

When Eddie pulls back, Buck gasps for air, blinking a few stray tears out of his eyes, and Eddie groans, holding the base of his cock tightly. He smiles, loopy and smug. 

“Christ, cariño, mirate.” Eddie grits out, forcing Buck’s head back to expose the column on his throat, and Buck goes, gasping again. 

“Eddie.” He whines, he’s so hard in his jeans, the zip pressing against him. He can’t quite breathe right anymore, it feels like he hasn’t been able to in forever now.

(Focus, Buck.)

“You’re gonna make me come before we’ve even started, with that mouth of yours.” Eddie says, a transfixed look on his face. 

“Eddie.” He breathes out, the only thing that makes sense, the only thing that ever makes sense, always, forever. Eddie’s fingers press at his lips, two of them, push past them and into his mouth. They taste like salt and Eddie. He sucks at them eagerly, keeping his eyes on Eddie even when they start to water, because he never wants to look away. 

“Sinful.” Eddie whispers, so quiet that maybe he wasn’t supposed to hear it. He moans anyway, the fingers press in deep, down on his tongue and against the back of his throat, until he’s gagging, eyes watering. “You’re so pretty.” 

“Ed’ie.” He garbles, and the look in Eddie’s house is too much, he can’t breathe.

(Adoration, veneration, devotion.)

(It can’t be right, not when it’s Eddie looking at Buck.) 

(Focus, Buck.) 

Eddie’s fingers are gone. Eddie pulls him up and pushes him on the bed again, and he goes gladly, sinks in the soft bedsheets that still smell like pinewood and soap. 

(Home.) 

Eddie’s lips latch on his neck, suck, bite, he groans, burying his fingers in Eddie’s hair. 

“Fuck, Eddie, please.” 

And maybe, maybe, Eddie’s just as desperate as him, because then Buck’s pants are gone before he can even blink, let alone breathe. His pants are gone and he's naked and Eddie isn’t, and Buck wants him so bad it’s tearing him apart.

“Eddie.” He says again. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, I need you, please, need you so bad, need you to fuck me, need you to fill me up, please, Eds, please-

“Shit.” Eddie says, and then he’s pulling away and he whimpers, pathetic and desperate, but Eddie’s not gone for long. He’s back a second later between Buck’s legs with lube and no shirt. Cold fingers press at his hole, slide in easily, he’s still loose from the shower and the bed bunk, and he feels crazy just thinking about it, how badly he wants it. 

He digs his nails in Eddie’s shoulders and waist to keep him close, closer, always just a bit closer, because he needs, a gnawing, burning, violent thing curling in his chest. He’s been on the edge for so long that even just Eddie opening up has him leaking everywhere, cock rock hard and turning an angry red on his stomach. 

Eddie kisses him again, as one finger rapidly turns to two and then three, lube sliding between his ass. 

“Think you can do one more, corazòn?” Eddie asks, right on his lips, and he shakes his head, because he’s so turned on that every touch feels like live electricity on his skin. 

“No, no, Eddie, I- I need to come, please, you’ve gotta-

“Who’s in charge here?” Eddie’s tone is sharper, colder, and he twists his fingers in the sheets to keep from touching his own cock. Eddie’s fingers keep sliding in and out of him at a punishing pace, he can’t breathe.

“You.” He replies, easy as breathing, easier, even. Eddie’s lips ghost over his.

“And who do you belong to?” 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

“You.” 

“And who decides when and if you can come, baby?” 

“You.” He whispers, and it’s easy then, because it’s true, it’s simple. He doesn’t have to do anything but lay there and let Eddie take what he wants from him. He doesn’t have to make any decisions. He just has to be.

Eddie’s got him. 

(Focus, Buck.) 

“That’s good, cariño.” Eddie whispers, kisses him, quickly. “That’s very good, baby, you’re always so good for me.”
It’s good. It feels good. It feels very good.

“Eddie.” He mumbles, and he feels Eddie’s smile on his own mouth, it makes his treacherous heart flip. 

“And I think you can do it one more time, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” Eddie whispers, lips pressing over his heart and big eyes blinking up at Buck from under long lashes, gold and honey.

(He was never too good at telling Eddie no.) 

“Yeah.” He whispers back. “Yeah, yeah, okay, yeah.”

“Remember your safeword.” Eddie says, and Buck braces. It doesn’t help.

Pleasure shoots through his veins when Eddie’s fingers brush against his prostate, oversensitive and battered, it almost hurts, it feels so good, he wants more, he can’t take it. He arches off the bed with a scream, twisting his hands in the sheets to not touch himself. Eddie’s lips suck bruises into his stomach, his sides, his thighs, teeth sinking in to paint reds and blues on pale skin, and he can’t fucking breathe.

“Eddie, Eddie, oh- oh God, it’s- it’s too much, please, I- I c-can’t- I’m-

“You can, baby.” Eddie says, rubbing at his prostate insistently, and he thinks he might be crying, his body so tense and ready to snap and unable to do so, because he wasn’t given permission. He thinks he might die. 

“Fuck, Buck.” Eddie says then, voice low and hoarse, full of want. “Dios, cariño, you look- breathtaking. So- so beautiful, Buck.” 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

He feels it built, intense heat, all consuming, burning him from the inside out. 

“Eddie.” He gasps. “Eddie, s-stop, stop, stop, stop, stop-

Eddie does, mercifully. His fingers are gone and so is the threat of his orgasm, and it rips a sob out of him. 

“Shit.” He chokes out, sinking in the bed again and reaching up with trembling hands to cover his face. “Fuck, fuck.” 

He thinks he might come anyway, especially if Eddie keeps touching him like this. 

(Feathery kisses and gentle fingers, Eddie holds him like he’s worth something.) 

(Adoration, veneration, devotion, Eddie touches him like he’s worth keeping, like he’d never let go if he could.) 

Like he’s more than what he is. 

(He’s delusional, he knows.) 

(Focus, Buck.) 

“Eddie.” 

Eddie’s there, kissing him again, kissing him until they’re both panting, electricity sparking between them, wandering hands and bruising fingers, Buck knows Eddie loves to mark him up.

(Keep me, keep me, keep me, don’t let go, don’t leave, stay, stay, stay, I love you-

He loves it too. 

(Focus, Buck.)

“Eddie, please.” 

Eddie’s nodding then, lips shiny with spit and kissed swollen, his cheeks a rosy pink. He’s so beautiful. 

Eddie produces a condom from the nightstand, and then he’s stripping naked right in front of Buck and all he wants to do is lick the sweat from his skin. He watches as Eddie rolls the condom on, biceps flexing when he rolls over Buck again, smooth and elegant and crazy hot.

Eddie pushes in with one single thrust, until he’s bottomed out inside Buck, buried so deep that he swears he can feel it in his throat. He groans, loud, rolling his hips, because he needs more, he needs it so bad that it might kill him.

“Eddie.” He chokes out, digging half-moons in Eddie’s back. “Eddie, move.”
“Bossy.” Eddie laughs, and he’d laugh too, but then Eddie is moving, and suddenly he can’t breathe anymore. 

Eddie’s cock is big and it fills him so perfectly he kind of wants to weep at it. He doesn’t. Instead, he moans and groans and begs and rolls his hips to meet every one of Eddie’s thrusts, the pace fast and unforgiving. 

He’s back on the edge in seconds, writhing under Eddie’s firm body, the heat searing, the pleasure razor-sharp. 

“You’ve been so good, Buck.” Eddie says in his ear, and he shivers, tightens his thighs around Eddie’s waist to drag him deeper. “You can come whenever you want, baby, go ahead.” Eddie smiles. “But you can’t touch yourself.” 

(Focus, Buck.)

“Fuck.” He bites, Eddie’s words scrambling his brain. He pulls Eddie in a bruising kiss again, licks into his mouth to steal the oxygen directly from his lungs, and Eddie lets himself be kissed stupid, until they’re both panting and sweating. 

“Buck.” Eddie grits out, cock brushing against his prostate, and he groans, arches off the bed and sucks him deeper, he’s so close. “Dios, Buck, you’re so- so fuckin’ beautiful like this, querido, you look ruined, you look- you look mine.” 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

“Say it, Buck, say it.” 

“Yours.” He chokes out, blinking his eyes open to watch Eddie’s. “Y-yours, Eddie, only yours.” 

Eddie’s hips stutter, his pace falters, heat coils inside him.
“Come for me, Buck.” 

Buck does, with a shout, so hard that his vision whites out for a second. 

When he comes back to himself, Eddie’s still fucking him, rapidly pushing him into overstimulation. He tries to squirm away, brain hazy, but Eddie just chases after him, grabs both of his wrists with one hand to press him into the mattress and he goes willingly. 

“Eddie.” He chokes out. “Eddie, ‘s so much, ‘s- too much, I- fuck-

“Think you can come again, amorcito?” Eddie’s Spanish turns his guts inside out, sparks electricity down his spine. He’s half-hard already, like his dick didn’t go down at all despite just coming, cum pooled on his stomach.
The pleasure that Eddie forces out of him is violent, pain twisting in his blood, and he feels more alive than he ever has before, every nerve ending alight. 

He’s nodding before he can even compute it, and then Eddie wraps a hand around his dick and suddenly he’s not laughing anymore. Eddie strokes him off quick and dirty, too harsh and too fast and right over the edge of too painful, and yet he feels another orgasm approach quickly, inexorable and demanding. 

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie-

“You gonna come again for me, amorcito?” He nods, over and over, Eddie’s lips ghost over his neck. “I wish you could see yourself like this, Buck, you’re so beautiful, so perfect, so perfect for me, my good boy.” 

“Eddie-

“C’mon, Buck.” 

Eddie’s hand twists over the head of his cock, and he’s done for. He comes with Eddie’s name caught between his teeth and the taste of blood in his mouth where Eddie’s bitten his lip. He’s shaking like a leaf, he knows he is, but he can’t stop, because Eddie’s still going. 

(Focus, Buck.)

It’s too much, he’s too oversensitive, his hole swollen and puffy and his prostate battered, and yet, Eddie’s still going. He can’t breathe, gasping for air that just isn't there.

“Eddie, wait, wait- please-

“This only ends when I want it to, baby.” Eddie growls, holding his hip so tightly he might be leaving fingerprints on his very bones. 

(God, he hopes so.) 

“You’ve been so good for me, Buck, so good, perfect, you deserve a prize.”
“I- I can’t- I can’t go again- it’s- Eddie-

“I think you can.” Eddie says, but his pace is already stuttering, he’s close too, Buck knows he is. “And if you can’t, I’m gonna make you.” 

“Oh God.” 

“Buck.” 

Eddie comes like that, buried deep inside him and with his hand still around Buck’s soft cock. He comes looking at Buck, and he comes kissing him too. He comes with Buck’s name on his mouth and his cum all over his hand. 

“Fuck.” Eddie grits out, and Buck’s so oversensitive he might cry. He does sob when Eddie starts stroking him again, immediately. He trashes on the bed, fighting with himself to not push Eddie’s hand away, because it’s too much, it hurts, the pleasure sharp, unstoppable, like waves crashing against a cliff. 

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie-

“C’mon, baby, I know you can do it, you wanna make me happy, don’t you?” 

“F-fuck- yeah, yeah, I- 

“Because you’re mine.” Eddie says, and he whines, sobs, his cock hardens despite Buck knowing better, and it’s downright sadistic, and he’d be a lot more pissed if he wasn’t also so desperate for it. “That’s right, sweetheart, you’re mine, you belong to me, don’t you?”
“Yeah, yeah, Eds, Eddie, yours, o-only yours- always-

“Such a good boy, such a good boy for me.” Eddie’s talking against his lips, breathing the words directly into his mouth, and it’s addicting, intoxicating. Eddie’s hand slides over his cock with ease, cum making the glide smoother, and he feels all turned around, he can’t make sense of anything, he can’t breathe.

(Focus, Buck.)

“God, do you feel me inside you, baby?” Eddie whispers, rolling his hips slightly, making cum leak out of his hole and he chokes on thin air. “Do you, baby? I’m gonna plug you up and keep it all inside you, cariño, so you’ll always know who you belong to, so you’ll always remember you’re mine- fuck-

Eddie’s hips stutter, his hand doesn’t, ripping another orgasm out of him. There’s barely anything coming out now, and it hurts all the same, too much too quickly, his body shakes and shivers and Eddie doesn’t stop, stroking him until there’s nothing left, until he’s nothing more than skin and bones. 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

“That was so good, corazòn, so perfect, such a good boy for me, you’re always so good for me, Buck.” 

Eddie’s voice washes over him like honey, Eddie’s fingers cup his cheek to wipe the tears away and Buck lets him, really too out of it to do anything but breathe, if that. 

(Focus, Buck.)

“You were perfect, cariño, just perfect.” 

Eddie’s lips land on his, then press over his cheeks and his forehead and his eyelids, and then lower across his neck and his collarbone and his heart, and Buck can’t breathe all over again. 

“Eddie.” He chokes out, brain hazy, murky. “Fuck, that- that was-

“I know.” Eddie whispers, a soft smile pulling at his lips, and then Buck watches, mesmerized, as Eddie licks Buck’s cum from his stomach. He watches Eddie’s eyes, still blown dark and boring holes in his soul, and he watches his tongue and his lips and his throat, as Eddie licks his stomach clean, not a drop missed. 

“Fuck.” He says, and Eddie hums.

“Fuck.” He agrees. It makes Buck smile, and Eddie smiles back, eyes soft. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” He answers, sinking in the pillows. “I think you’ve ruined me for everyone else.” 

“Good.” Eddie says.

One more kiss, Eddie’s fingers dig in his sides, Buck doesn’t ask what that’s supposed to mean.

(Focus, Buck.)

“I’ll get you something to clean up, hold on.”
He hums in agreement, immediately mourning the loss of Eddie’s body heat. He stretches on the bed, watching Eddie disappear in the kitchen to get him a glass of water like he always does. Exhaustion settles over him, satisfied and peaceful and dark. 

He falls asleep to the sound of the faucet running and Eddie humming to himself. 

***

When he wakes up, he’s warm.

He’s warm, and comfortable. 

Which is weird, because the couch is nice, but not this nice.

He shifts a little, and there’s a weight around his waist.

Actually, there’s a weight pressed against his whole back, warm and familiar. 

(Focus, Buck.)

He fucked up. 

He fucked up bad, just then, because this isn’t supposed to happen.

(They don’t sleep together, they don’t cuddle after.) 

(Because Eddie doesn’t love him like that.) 

He forces his eyes open, blinking at the door of Eddie’s bedroom, half-open. Eddie’s breathing softly behind him, and they’re almost completely naked, except for the underwear that Eddie must have put back on him after he passed out. God. 

(What is he doing?)

Eddie’s sleeping. 

Eddie’s wrapped around him, and he’s sleeping, Buck can hear the regular rise and fall of his chest, he can feel his breath on the back of his neck. 

He should leave. 

(Focus, Buck.)

He should totally leave. 

Eddie doesn’t love him like this. 

It’ll only make it hurt more when Eddie eventually decides he’s had enough. 

(Focus, Buck.) 

“Buck?” Eddie’s voice is quiet, barely more than a whisper, and the curtains are pulled, and it’s always been easier in the darkness.

“I’m here.” 

“Go back to sleep.” 

“Eddie.”
“Sleep, Buck.” 

He feels Eddie’s hickeys on his skin like a mark, the bruises on his waist where Eddie’s fingers still are. 

(Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine-

(Buck wants it so badly it might kill him.)

(He thinks he wouldn’t mind dying like this, not if Eddie was the one doing it.) 

(Focus, Buck.)

It’ll hurt more. 

(But the pain is familiar to him.) 

“Yeah.”
He falls asleep in Eddie’s arms and he dreams of honey and gold, of bloody reds and dark blues, and of falling and falling and falling and breaking all of his bones. 

Chapter Text

[Saying, "I wanna be your lover

I don't wanna be your friend"

You don't know what you got 'til it's gone, my dear

So tell me that you love me again]

Logically, Buck knows it’s a bad idea. Logically, he knows it might end up badly. 

In practice, there isn’t much of a choice.

(Focus, Buck.)

“There’s one more inside.” Graham from the 214 says, coming out of the burning building with a man hanging from him. The patient is immediately taken by the paramedics of the 214. 

Behind himself, Buck looks over to Bobby, finds him already staring. 

“Cap?” 

Bobby glances at the building, a chemical factory where an accident had sent the place up in flames at an unbelievable speed, triggering a four-level alarm. Bobby looks back at Buck.

“You come out as soon as I tell you to. Take Eddie.” 

(Focus, Buck.)

Eddie is standing next to him, of course, and with a nod to each other they brave the fire together, just like they’ve always done. 

Inside, it’s a furnace, wood burning to a crisp and metal bending under the weight of the upstair floors. They follow Dispatch’s direction towards the probable location of the victim, a janitor stuck in a supply closet on the second floor. 

They move together, close as to not lose each other in the thick smoke. Flames lick at his turnouts, threatening to melt the skin right off his bones if they ever made contact. 

(Focus, Buck.)

Buck spots the man first.

“There!” They have to yell to hear each other over the rumble of the fire. 

The man is passed out, but Eddie is quick to find a pulse, so Buck picks him up and throws him over his shoulder. Eddie helps him up, and he grunts, inhaling oxygen from his mask to face the effort of the dead weight, and then, they go. 

It’s going well, until it isn’t anymore.

They’ve just made it back to the first floor, a confusing maze of long hallways and dead ends that reminds him horribly of another factory fire, one he almost died in, almost gave up in. They’re at the bottom of the stairs, when their victim starts coding. 

“Eddie!” He yells, because they need to get the fuck out, they need to keep the man’s heart going, and really, there’s only one solution for it. 

He drops the man on the floor, rips his mask off and hooks the oxygen on the man’s face. 

“Buck!” Eddie yells, but he’s already doing compression, so he can’t do much but glare. And through the smoke and sudden coughing fit overtaking him, Buck doesn’t even care that much. 

(Focus, Buck.)

What he cares about is the ominous sound of the building shifting and creaking, starting to collapse under its own weight. What he cares about, is the section of the ceiling about to come down on top of them. 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

He stands on wobbly legs, lungs burning, and he pushes Eddie out of the way just as part of the ceiling drops right where he’d been, missing their patient by inches. 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon-

Eddie restarts CPR right away, eyes flying between Buck and the patient. 

“Buck? Buck, you’ve gotta get out, the smoke-

“Like hell.” He chokes out, just as the man splutters to life again, eyes flying open as he sucks in air greedily. 

“Okay, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon.” Eddie’s talking, forcing the man to his feet and looping an arm around the man’s waist to hold him up. “Buck! Buck, let’s go.” 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

The world is blurry around him, the air burning in his lungs, bitter and acrid, it chokes him out the more he breathes in, making the room spin, his blood boil. 

“Buck, move.” 

(He’d do anything for Eddie, he’d do everything, anything-

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

They’re outside. 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

“Buck, Buck, here, breathe, you have to breathe, Buck.” 

He’s on the ground, a violent cough shaking his body, eyes burning and heartbeat unsteady and the world still too blurry around him. Something snaps on his face, the oxygen mask, and Buck clutches at it a little desperately, inhaling the clean air greedily, willing his lungs to inflate, to inhale.

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

“Good, good, like that, again.” 

Eddie’s voice dictates the rhythm of his breathing, of his heart, until, finally, his vision clears up.

(Focus, Buck.)

He blinks at Eddie, kneeling in front of him, his hand on Buck’s shoulder, thumb resting against his pulse. 

“Hey.” He croaks out, voice raw and hoarse, and Eddie exhales, and Buck wonders if he’d been holding his breath the entire time that Buck couldn’t breathe. 

“You’re a fucking idiot.” 

Hen checks him out, and Eddie hovers. 

He’s fine, just a bit of smoke inhalation, nothing that a short time on oxygen can’t fix. he tells Eddie as much once Hen leaves him to go help Chim with the other patients, the real patients. Eddie just glares at him. 

“You’re an idiot.” Eddie says, again, and Buck scoffs. 

“I’m fine, Eddie, okay? Look at me, healthy as a peach.”
“You’re attached to an oxygen mask!”
“Only for like, fifteen more minutes.” 

“You shouldn’t have taken your mask off.” 

“He was crashing!” 

“It was stupid!” 

“Was I supposed to let him die?” He bites and Eddie steps closer, anger etched into his face.

“You’re not supposed to endanger yourself like that.” Eddie hisses, and Buck scoffs, heat running through his veins.

“I’m fine.”
“You almost died.” 

“But I didn’t!” 

“You're- God, you’re impossible.”
And then, Eddie storms off, directed back to the engine and leaving Buck by the ambulance. He avoids Chim’s pointed look. He doesn’t follow after Eddie. 

(Focus, Buck.)

By the time they get home, they’ve spent so much time trying to get the fire under control, that Buck’s not sure they’ll ever manage to get the scent of smoke off their hair and body. They’d all showered back at the firehouse, before finally heading home, but Buck can swear that he still reeks of smoke. 

The drive home is silent. 

Despite being, in fact, completely fine, Eddie had barely glanced at him after their fight. It’s pissing him off more than it should, because really, what the fuck was he supposed to do? Let the man die? Eddie has to know he’d never do that, never pick that option. 

(If the choice is between Buck’s life and someone else’s life, it’s not a choice at all.) 

(Focus, Buck.)

Buck glances at him again. Eddie’s not looking at him, staring out of the window on the passenger seat of Buck’s car. His brows are still drawn together, a crease in his forehead that Buck would like to smooth out, if only he wasn’t also annoyed at this whole thing. Eddie’s fingers are tapping on his legs, frustration and irritation leaking off him. 

(Focus, Buck.)

Buck parks the car in the driveway. Carla’s car is not here, meaning that she’s already taken Chris to school. In a way, he’s glad for that. 

(He sees it.)

(It’s in Eddie’s tense shoulders, his locked jaw, his dark eyes.) 

(Violent and destructive and angry, it makes Buck’s blood burn with want.)

(Focus, Buck.)

Buck opens the door, Eddie close on his heels, and as soon as he’s closed it, he’s pressed up against it.

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

Eddie kisses him with his full body, it feels like a punch to the face, it tastes like smoke, it burns like a forest fire. Buck kisses back, presses back against Eddie’s chest, steady and solid under his hands. Eddie licks into his mouth like he’s trying to eat him alive, bites at his bottom lip like he’s trying to draw blood.

(Anything, everything, by God, Buck would slit his wrists and bleed himself dry if only Eddie asked.) 

(Focus, Buck.)

“You're insufferable.” Eddie bites, voice dark as he kisses Buck again, and again, and again. His hands sink in Buck’s waist, hold him up against the door, and Buck prays they might leave finger-shaped bruises on his hips. 

“Fuck off.” He hisses in return, tilting his head back so Eddie can lick at his neck, sharp canines digging against his throat. “I was doing my job.” 

“You took a stupid risk.” Eddie says, sharp and cold. “You’re reckless.” 

He lets his lips curve into a smile, something smug and crooked and filthy. Eddie’s eyes blow dark.

“Yeah?” He asks, low and deep, looking at Eddie from under his eyelashes. “You gonna do something about it?” 

It shouldn’t work, it’s stupid and a bad line and so obvious. But then, Eddie’s kissing him again, all teeth and tongue, and then, before Buck can even begin to think about kissing back, Eddie’s gone.

“Go in the bedroom, strip. Wait for me.” 

He nods, blood pooling south so quickly he almost faints. He peels himself off the door, and he does not run to the bedroom, thank you very much. 

(Focus, Buck.)

He takes his clothes off as quickly as humanly possible, throwing them on the dresser to be dealt with later. He kneels on the bed, and then, he waits. 

Eddie doesn’t let him stew for long, coming into the bedroom with his shirt off. The morning light hits him at all the right angles, sliding across his body like honey drip, and Buck’s mouth salivates at the sight, catching on the dark tattoos and silvery scars littering his skin. 

He feels Eddie’s eyes run across his own body in return, taking him in, drinking him in, raising goosebumps on his skin. His breathing stutters, and Eddie’s lips twist in a dark smile, making Buck blush, his face hot. 

“Eddie.” He says without really meaning too, and Eddie’s there, stepping closer, close enough to cup Buck’s face, tilting his face up.

“You know your colors?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Good.” 

Eddie kisses him then, hungry and demanding and possessive. Buck kisses back, just as intense, challenging. Eddie’s hand slides in his hair, tugging his head back until they part. 

“You’re gonna regret pissing me off.” Eddie whispers across his lips, and shivers run down his back. 

“Am I?” 

“I’m not gonna be nice.”
“God, I hope not.” 

“You’re impossible.” Eddie says, amusement dancing in his eyes, and Buck grins at him, cocky and confident. He knows it’ll only spur Eddie on. “Hands and knees.” 

He complies quickly, turning around and arching his back the way he knows drives Eddie crazy. Eddie’s hand is on him immediately, pressing in the small of his back to deepen the arch of it, and Buck’s body molds itself to Eddie’s touch before he can even think about it, forever trying to shape itself into something Eddie might like, might want to keep.

(Focus, Buck.)

He hears the familiar click of Eddie’s belt, leather sliding across the bare skin of his ass, and excitement thrums to his veins. 

(Sometimes, he wonders if he might like pain a bit too much.) 

(Sometimes, he wonders if it’s only because it’s Eddie hurting him.) 

(Focus, Buck.)

“Count out loud for me, baby.” 

“Fuck you.” He says, just because he can, because he loves to piss Eddie off when it’s like this, because he knows Eddie likes it too. 

There’s a hiss through the air, and Buck knows what’s coming, but still isn’t ready when it lands. The belt strikes across his ass and white-hot pain blooms instantly, stealing the air from his lungs.

He grits his teeth, fists clenching in the bedsheets as the force makes him sway forward. 

“Fuck.” He rasps. “One.” 

Behind him, Eddie’s eyes are dark. 

“So you can follow orders.” Eddie says, reverent fingers  brushing against the smarting skin on his ass.

“Asshole.” He exhales, blinking again the fogginess in his brain. 

“Talking back? That's how you wanna play it, baby?” Eddie’s tone is lazy, but the next strike is fast, in the same place, biting across both cheeks.

“Shit.”

“Didn’t hear a number, cariño.”

“Two.” He forces a breath out.

“It’s about time someone taught you some manners.”

Buck tries to glare at him, really tries, but the belt whips down again and pain explodes through his nerves like live wire.

“Three.” He chokes out, and Eddie laughs quietly. 

“You’ll be begging by ten.”

“You wish.” 

The belt comes down again, striking across both sides, and the pain is bright, intense. 

(Focus, Buck.) 

“Four.” He swallows the tears down, exhales. He twists as much as he can, looking at Eddie, his eyes dark, hungry. “Eds.”
“About time someone put you in your place, isn’t that right, baby boy?” 

“Shit, shit, five- fuck! Six.” Tears burn in his eyes and Eddie grabs a handful of his hair, snaps his head back, breathing against his neck. He lets out a shaky breath, moaning quietly when Eddie’s teeth sink in his neck. 

“You ready to apologize, sweetheart?” Eddie grins, running his free hands down Buck’s chest, catching against his nipples. He runs the belt against his ass again, lower against the back of his thighs and Buck flinches, shivering. 

(Focus, Buck.)

“I was doing my job.” He says, willing his voice to hold steady. Eddie bites him again, the pain long and dull. He bites back another moan, elbows buckling under him until he comes to rest on his forearms. 

“You put yourself at risk.” Eddie exhales, and it sounds final, damning, it makes something red and hot twist in his chest, in his veins, heat burning in his body. Eddie’s fingers thread through his hair, pulling until his head snaps back. “Don’t look at me like that, cariño, you know I’m right.” 

Eddie pulls back again, and the next stroke is harder, sharper. It rips a sob out of him, a wretched sound from the back of his throat, and it makes the tears spill from his eyes, rolling down his cheeks. 

“Fuck! Fuck, Jesus Christ, I- I did what I had to do.” 

“You better get with the plan, amorcito. C’mon, cariño, I know you wanna be good.” Eddie runs a hand over the burning skin of his ass, ice-cold fingers, and he’s not smiling anymore. “You wanna be good for me, Buck?” 

(Focus, Buck.)

(It feels like sinking, floating, flying.) 

(The room spinning and his tongue heavy in his mouth.) 

(His head buzzing and his skin tingling.)

(Focus, Buck.)

“Yeah.” He whispers, and it’s easy, simple, the world reducing to the here and now, to Eddie and his belt and his eyes, to the pain in his skin and the pleasure in his veins, dark and twisted and real. 

(Focus, Buck.)
“What, cariño?” Eddie asks, smiling, smug, like he knows he’s won.

(They both know he has.) 

“Wanna be good for you, Eds.” Buck says, voice raw and hoarse, and Eddie nods, running his fingers over Buck’s face, wiping the tears away.

“Then give me a number, sweetheart.” 

(Focus, Buck.)

“Seven.” He breathes out, and Eddie nods, smiling, condescending and patronizing.
“Good boy. I knew you could do it, cariño. Always so pretty when you break, aren’t you? Just gorgeous.” 

(Focus, Buck.)

Eddie’s fingers leave him and Buck shivers at the loss of contact. He hears and then feels as Eddie brings the belt down again, landing across both his cheeks again, hard, hard enough to rip another sob out of him. He arches, his body tensing as pain sparks through his skin, sets him on fire from the inside out.

“Eight.”
“So pretty. Your cute little ass is so red already, cariño. Gonna have so many bruises tomorrow, baby, you won’t be able to sit for a week.” 

“Fuck.” He drops his head, clinging to the bedsheets. “Christ, Eds.”
“You like that, don’t you? Painslut like you, of course you do.” 

Eddie’s hand braces against his hip then, holding him steady, and Buck barely has time to inhale before all oxygen is pulled out of him. Eddie hits him quickly, the belt harsh and unforgiving, snapping bruises into his ass over and over and over-

“Fuck, fuck- nine, t- shit! Eddie- ten, eleven, oh- twelve! Jesus fuck, I’m sorry, God, fuck- fuck, please-

“There you go, not so hard, is it?” 

“Please, Eddie, God- fuck-

“Say it again, Buck.” 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

“Sorry.” He breathes out. “Sorry, I’m sorry, Eddie, it won’t- it won’t happen again.”
“No, it won’t.” 

Eddie keeps going, and it hurts, it hurts so fucking bad, and Buck can’t breathe, gasping, tears sliding down his cheeks, and the pain is real, it’s real and it makes his head fuzzy and the world murky, and it’s good. 

Eddie hits him again, over marks already formed, and it hurts, and Buck can't breathe, can’t see past the tears in his eyes. It keeps going, on already bruised spots, fast and unpredictable. The strokes land quickly, to the side and lower, against the back of his thighs, and he moans and begs and cries, and it all washes through him like an unstable force, wave after wave of pain. He rides through them, tries to breathe, counts, prays. 

(Focus, Buck.)

Eddie’s blushing, a pretty pink dusting his cheeks as he stares at Buck, something dangerous in them, something that should make Buck want to run away and instead only pulls him further under, makes him sink deeper. 

(Focus, Buck.)

“Seventeen.” He grits out, voice cracking. “I’m so- sorry.” 

He’s shaking, a thin layer of sweat clinging to his skin, and he heaves in a wet inhale, lungs threatening to collapse under Eddie’s heavy gaze. 

(Focus, Buck.)

“You take it so well, cariño. So pretty when you cry.” Eddie whispers, sinking his teeth in Buck’s shoulder, and it hurts again, less, different, longer, Eddie’s tongue darting out to lick at the mark.  

“Fuck, Eddie.” Buck says, half a moan, half a sob. 

“Color?” Eddie asks, and Buck blinks against the haziness in his head, against the throbbing pain running his veins. 

“Green.” 

“Give me your hands.” Eddie whispers, and Buck’s movements are a little sluggish, a little delayed as he presses his face into the mattress. 

“Hold yourself open for me, cariño, like this.” Eddie says, placing Buck’s hands where he wants them, spreading his own ass open. It’s humiliating, shame curls in his chest, tendrils wrapping around his heart, making his dick go so impossibly hard, leaking all over the bed. 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

“Fuck.” He exhales, muffled against the sheets, rapidly turning damp with his tears. “Fuck, Eddie.” 

“God, you- te ves increíble, cariño, just beautiful, so pretty like this.” 

(There’s reverence in Eddie’s voice, adoration in the way he touches Buck, absolution in this pain.) 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

“Eddie.” 

“Mh, I know, cariño. I’m right here, I got you, baby, I got you, lemme take care of you, I know what you need.” 

The strokes land quickly, once, twice, and Buck digs his fingers in, muffles his scream against the blanket, as the belt falls on his hole. Pain rips through him, turns his blood to liquid fire. He squeezes his eyes shut and he sobs, can’t breathe, can’t breathe, doesn’t care. 

(Focus, Buck.)

“Eighteen, fuck- nine- nineteen, fuck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sorry- God, fuck, Eddie.”

“So good, amorcito, so sweet for me, aren’t you? You’re so sweet when you want to be, you just need someone, need me, to put you under, right, baby? Tell you what to do, give you the attention you need, yeah? Don’t worry, baby, I’m right here, I’ll make you feel good, cariño, gonna make you feel so good.” 

Eddie’s voice washes over him like molten gold, curses through his veins, fries through his nerves until the whole world reduces to him.

(Focus, Buck.)

“Eddie.” He whines, and he’s shaking, his ass feels on fire, and he has no doubt that if he were to turn and look, it’d be bright red. He’d see the bruises he feels forming under his skin, see the purples and blues that Eddie marked into his body, stroke after stroke, number after number, apology after praise. 

Eddie just smiles, all teeth and sharpness and greed. 

“So pretty when you break, cariño.” 

“Fuck.” 

Eddie keeps a hand on his waist, fingers digging possessively into the soft flesh there, deep enough that Buck knows he’ll be leaving bruises behind, knows he’ll be able to see them tomorrow, knows he belongs. 

(Yours.) 

It sends pleasure running through his veins, twisting in an intoxicating concoction with the ache they leave behind, turning into something confusing, something that leaves him breathless, desperate, leaves him scrambling for solid ground.

(Focus, Buck.)

“Last one.” Eddie says, and Buck exhales, braces for it. 

It hurts just like all the others did, Eddie’s belt pressing pain into his body, damning and intoxicating and addicting. He presses his forehead against the mattress, trying to stop the shaking wrecking through his body. 

“Twenty.” He exhales, and Eddie’s fingers slide through his curls again.

“Good boy.” He says, and warmth spreads through his chest, settles the buzzing in his brain that’s been there since their fight. “Buck.” 

Eddie’s hands guide him on his back, and he lays down on the bed with a hiss when the bedsheets brush against the abused skin. It doesn’t matter though, because then Eddie’s kissing him, deep and long and possessive, licking into his mouth like a starved man. 

(Focus, Buck.)

“Eddie.” He mumbles, holding on to Eddie’s shoulder when the world goes hazy around him. He feels a bit lost, untethered, like sinking deep and low under water. Eddie’s hands are everywhere, brushing against his ribs and running across his sides and then lower over his legs and then higher along his jaw and then all over again. 

(Focus, Buck.)

“You did so good, amorcito, so perfect, so perfect for me, cariño.” Eddie speaks directly against his skin, sending shivers down his back. “Gonna make you feel so good now, baby.” 

Eddie reaches into the drawer for the lube, and before he can blink, a finger is pressing insistently at his hole. It’s ice cold on his burning skin, and he hisses, moans, Eddie swallows it all with a kiss, doesn’t slow down. 

He opens up Buck quickly, efficiently, like maybe he can’t take this anymore either, like maybe he’s just as desperate as Buck feels. He runs his hands through Eddie’s hair, soft without the gel to hold it in place, and he chases after Eddie’s mouth over and over. Eddie meets him half-way each time. 

(Focus, Buck.)

"Gorgeous." Eddie whispers, and it’s like he’s not even talking to Buck at all, lips shining and plush. “So beautiful.”
(Focus, Buck.)

(Too much, too good, too kind.)

“Eddie.” 

“Christ.” Eddie groans, sucking another red mark on his neck. “Christ, fuck, okay.”
Eddie rips his fingers out of his ass then, and Buck yelps, cold washing over him, but it doesn’t last long. Eddie pulls back, reaching in the drawer for a condom, and Buck watches as Eddie makes quick work of his pants and boxers. Eddie’s cock is red and hard, leaking a wet spot over his boxers before Eddie takes them off. He rolls on the condom quickly.

“Buck.” He says, a mute question. Buck nods anyway, and Eddie smiles, lascivious and cocky, takes his place between Buck’s legs like he was born to be there, like Buck was made for this and only this, only him. 

(Focus, Buck.)

Eddie pushes in in one, long, smooth motion, until he bottoms out, and the stretch burns a little, his ass and hole still hurting, the sweetest kind of pain. Eddie doesn’t wait, he takes and takes and takes, he fucks Buck at a brutal pace, long thrusts that have him moaning and writhing on the bed in seconds.

“Oh God, Christ, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie-

“Jesus, Buck.” Eddie says, leaning down to kiss him, pushing his legs wider, and he groans, a noise suffocated in their kiss. Eddie’s hands are everywhere, tugging at his hair and squeezing his waist, and then lower, pressing his fingers into his ass and Buck flinches, whines. 

“God, you’re so tight, Buck.” Eddie squeezes his ass again, and Buck feels himself clench down on Eddie’s cock. “Shit, baby, it’s like you’re trying to milk me dry.”

“Eddie.” 

Eddie bites him again, lower, on his shoulder, below the collar of the uniform. 

(He wishes he’d do it where everyone could see it.) 

(Focus, Buck.)

“Fuck, Eddie, I’m close.” He chokes out, heat tingling from his feet up, his cock so hard it hurts. “Please, Eddie, please, please, please-

“Not until I tell you to.” Eddie bites, and Buck sobs, closing his eyes against the waves of pleasure and pain twisting in his blood, unrelenting and unforgiving. And then, Eddie’s hand closes around his dick, stroking it off quick and dirty, just this side of too painful, and then he can’t breathe.

“Oh- oh God, Eddie, Eddie, wait, w-wait, fuck, fuck-

“Not yet.” It’s all Eddie says, eyes shining, and Buck digs his fingers in Eddie’s back, doesn’t care that he’s leaving behind his own set of bruises and half-moon indentations. Eddie surely doesn’t seem to mind, pace stuttering, he’s close too.

“Eddie, please.” 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty when you beg.” Eddie says, and Buck’s heart flips, his stomach swoops. 

“Please.” He says again, eyes wet under his lashes. Eddie’s eyes are dark with want. “Please, please, Eddie, I’ll do anything, please, anything you want, God, please-

“Anything?” Eddie asks, quieter, dangerous, and Buck nods, nerves alight.
“Anything.” 

And then, Eddie’s hand speeds up, and his hips stutter again.

“Come now, Buck, come for me, cariño.” 

It’s like a switch was flipped in his brain. As soon as the words are out, Buck comes all over himself and Eddie’s hand, bright and white-hot, it seems to last forever, stars dancing in front of his eyes. He clenches down on Eddie’s cock, and that’s finally enough to drag Eddie down with him. 

“Buck.” He grits out, and then they’re kissing again, and Eddie comes like that. 

(Buck wishes he hadn’t worn a condom.)

(He wishes he could be Eddie’s.) 

Eddie comes with his name on his tongue, and Buck swallows it down in their kiss, lets Eddie fuck him into the mattress a few more times, riding the high. 

(Focus, Buck.)

“Holy shit.” He says then, and Eddie hums, clearly making an effort to not collapse on top of Buck. Not that Buck would mind. He really, really wouldn’t. 

“Yeah.” Eddie agrees, breathless, cheeks pink and lips red, his hair is a mess, he looks so good that Buck feels a little sick. He reaches up to kiss him again instead, and Eddie kisses back instantly, groaning quietly against Buck’s lips. 

Eddie’s hand comes up to cup his face again, thumb swiping under his eye to wipe away the leftover tears clinging to his lashes, and then lower, over his bottom lip when they pull apart, spreading saliva across his cheek. 

“Buck.” Eddie says, so quiet that Buck only hears it because they’re so close, connected at every inch of their bodies. 

(Somehow, it doesn’t feel close enough.)

(Buck’s not sure it’ll ever be close enough, when it’s Eddie.) 

(Focus, Buck.)

“Was it- was it too much?” Eddie asks then. “How are you feeling?” 

The crease between his brows has reappeared. This time Buck does reach out, smoothing it away with his thumb. He holds Eddie’s face in his hand, reaches up to press another kiss on his lips, sweeter, softer. 

“It wasn’t too much.” He replies easily, a whisper between them. “It was great. I’m- I’m great.” 

(And he knows it’s not enough, that Eddie will ask him again later, when the endorphins have worn off.)

(He’ll say the same thing.)

For now though, Eddie’s face relaxes. Eddie kisses him again. 

“Good.” 

And then, he’s pulling back. Buck lets him go. 

(And if he holds on for just a second too long, then, well, that’s neither here nor there.) 

“Hold on.” Eddie says, and Buck watches him from the bed as Eddie disappears in the bathroom, comes back a second later with a towel. Buck lets Eddie clean him off, exhaustion settling into his body now, weighing down his bones. He stretches his arms above his head with a grunt, and when he looks up Eddie’s staring at him, a smile on his face and his eyes warm, fond. He smiles back. 

(Focus, Buck.)

“Turn around.” Eddie says then, and Buck does, his brain still quiet, the edges of the world softer around him. He flops on his stomach, resting his head on his arms, and then Eddie’s hands are on him. 

Eddie’s fingers trace the curve of his spine slowly, reverently, delicately, touch him like he’s holy. They dip lower and lower, over the sensitive skin of his ass, it still feels hot, the pain dull, insistent, buzzing in a corner of his brain, distracting. Eddie’s hand kneads in the soft flesh there, and Buck groans, his cock stirring. 

“Eddie.” He mumbles, fighting to keep his eyes open.

“You won’t be able to sit for days.” Eddie says, hunger dripping in his voice as he splays his hand wide over one of the cheeks, push at it to press a finger against his hole, still puffy and loose. 

“That bad?” He asks, and a thrill runs through him, the thought of having Eddie’s touch branded into his body for so long, of feeling it every time he walks, every time he sits down, every time he puts his uniform on, it makes him crazy. God.

“Come look.” Eddie says, grabbing his wrist and tugging gently. 

Getting up is the last thing Buck wants to do, but the want in Eddie’s voice is obvious, too tempting to resist, so he rolls off the bed, unsteady on his legs. Eddie keeps a hand on the small of his back, guides him to the closet and opens one side of it, where a full-length mirror lives. Eddie’s hands guide him to turn around, and Buck twists as best as he can to see, and Jesus.

The skin is bright red, a marked line between where the belt hit and where his body was spared. It looks tender and sore, it is tender and sore, and Buck can already feel the bruises bloom under the skin, can imagine the way it’ll turn to dark blues and bloody purples, and he can’t wait. 

“You like them. The bruises.” Eddie says then, and it’s not a question. He feels blush rise up to his face. Eddie’ still holding him, still naked, his hands resting on his waist, right above the redness, big and warm and heavy, Buck wants them on himself all the time. He’s desperate for it, eager, he wants and wants and wants. Eddie’s hands squeeze, just once, and Buck nods. 

“I- it’s, uh.” He stops, swallows, turns away from the mirror to look in Eddie’s eyes. “They’re yours.” He whispers, breathless all over again. “Of course I like them.” 

Eddie makes a strangled sound and kisses him, deep and slow. Buck kisses back, clinging to Eddie’s shoulders when the ground shakes under his feet. 

(It’s nothing, it’s nothing, it doesn’t mean anything, it’s not like that, it’s nothing, it’s nothing, it’s nothing-

(Focus, Buck.)

He pulls back first, before his heart can break too much. Eddie rests his forehead against his, so they’re breathing the same air. 

“Buck.” Eddie whispers, and Buck nods, unsure what he’s agreeing to. It doesn’t really matter.

(If it’s Eddie asking, then he’ll do it.) 

(Focus, Buck.)

For a second, just a moment, Eddie looks like he’s going to say something. His mouth opens, his eyes seem to hold entire galaxies. Nothing comes out. 

(Focus, Buck.)

Eddie pulls back, keeps holding Buck’s wrist to guide him back to bed. 

“Lay down.” Eddie says. “I think we’ve got some aloe somewhere.” 

“Bottom drawer, behind the toilet paper.” 

Eddie smiles.

“Of course.”
“Of course.” He echoes quietly, and he watches from the bed as Eddie goes in the bathroom again and comes back with the bottle of aloe gel. He holds his hand out, only for Eddie to slap it away.

“Let me.” 

So he lays on his stomach, and he puts his head over his arms, and he doesn’t flinch when the cold gel lands on his body. He bites back a moan when Eddie’s fingers start massaging it into his skin. 

And really, he’d like to stay awake, he’d like to feel Eddie’s hands on himself for as long as he gets to. He’d like to go for round two too, his cock stirring where it’s trapped under him. He’d like a lot of things. He’d like to kiss Eddie again. He’d like to know that Eddie feels the same, as impossible as it is. It doesn’t matter though, because soon enough, his eyes are dropping, the fatigue from the long shift and the release from the sex dragging him down and under, and before he even knows it, Buck’s asleep. 

***

Hours later, after they’ve gone to pick up Chris together and spent the rest of day running around doing chores, after Buck’s made them dinner like he always does these days, after wishing Chris goodnight, after all that, Buck can’t sleep.

(Focus, Buck.)

He’s on the couch, of course, the house dark. It’s getting late. They have another shift tomorrow, he should definitely be sleeping right now. 

Yet, he can’t. 

There’s no specific reason why. 

Images from the long day and longer shift flash behind his eyelids, the scent of smoke, Eddie’s taste on his tongue. His ass is still smarting, and it’ll keep on smarting for a few days at least. He likes it, more than he should. 

(Focus, Buck.)

In any case, he should be sleeping, but he’s not, and so he hears it when a door creaks open. He knows it’s Eddie’s door, because he knows this house like it’s his home. 

(He’d like it to be.) 

(More than he should, again.) 

He hears Eddie walk down the hallway towards the living room, towards him. He must have socks on, because he’s quiet. He looks up when he feels Eddie being close, and Eddie flinches, one hand coming up to clutch at his shirt.

“Jesus, Buck.” Eddie whispers, and Buck smiles, eyes burning with exhaustion, heart flipping when he sees Eddie. There’s a faint light coming from the window, from the moon, it washes the room in soft blues and clear silvers, it catches on the high points of Eddie’s face, the crooked line of his nose, the gentle curve of his lips, the hard line of his jaw. He’s beautiful, he thinks, and he wants and wants and wants.

(Focus, Buck.)

“Hey.” He says, just as quiet, Eddie exhales. “You okay?” 

“Can’t sleep.” 

“Why not?” 

And maybe, if there was more light, he’d be able to decipher the complicated series of emotions that pass over Eddie’s face. Maybe, if he were a little more awake, he’d understand what it means. 

(But it’s dark, and he’s tired, and so he doesn’t.)

(Focus, Buck.)

“Can I?” Eddie asks in the end, and Buck nods, moving before he can think about it. He winches at the pain running through him when he sits up. Eddie’s eyes are heavy. “Does it hurt?”
“Yeah.” He says, looking back at him. “But I like it.” 

Eddie swallows, Buck watches the moonlight catch on his throat. He can’t breathe. 

They’re pressed together, side to side, a long, unbroken line of heat. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, and Eddie looks away. He breathes in, breathes out. Buck waits him out.

“That shit you did today.” Eddie says. “Don’t do it again.” 

(Focus, Buck.)

“I don’t want to argue about this again.”
“Then don’t.” 

“You know I can’t promise that.” 

“Do it anyway.” 

“Eddie.”
“Anything.” Eddie says, and Buck’s heart is racing. “You said anything.”  

“I can’t.” He says, and it hurts. It feels like a betrayal. Eddie looks away, his fists are clenched on his lap, and Buck itches to reach out, unfurl those hands to hold them between his. “Eddie.” 

“It was reckless.” 

“I’m fine.”
“You could have gotten seriously hurt.” Eddie bites. “You could have died.” 

“But I didn’t.”
“You already did.” 

(Focus, Buck.)

Maybe it’s easier in the darkness. Maybe it’s easier to be brave like this.

He reaches out, takes Eddie’s face, and Eddie lets him, turns to look at him when Buck guides him too. Eddie’s eyes are dark. 

“I’m okay.” He says again, and he takes one of Eddie’s hands, rests it against his neck. Eddie’s fingers find his pulse point instantly, an instinct that has his heart clench. “You feel that? I’m okay, Eddie.” 

Something on Eddie’s face cracks.

“I thought- I called you and you collapsed and for a second I thought- I thought-

“I’m okay, Eddie.” 

Eddie inhales, exhales, again. Buck feels the warmth of his breath right on his lips. He doesn’t pull back. Eddie’s hand relaxes, wraps around his neck instead, and Buck’s breathing hitches, his lips part, and for a second, he thinks that maybe Eddie will kiss him. 

(He won’t, Buck knows he won’t.)

“You have to be more careful.” Eddie says instead. “I know it’s the job. I know it’s them before us. But you can’t- you have to be careful.” 

“I know. I’m sorry.” He says, and he does know, and he is sorry. He doesn’t know if Eddie believes him. He hopes it does. “It won’t happen again.” 

“Buck.” 

“I promise.” 

Eddie exhales, his hand squeezes around his throat, just once. Buck wishes he’d never let go. 

“Okay.”
“Okay.” 

Eddie’s hand slides off and so Buck lets him go too. They pull apart. Not too far. Never too far. 

“God.” Eddie whispers. “It’s so late.” 

“Yeah.” He replies, because it is late. Too soon, the alarms will go off, and then it’ll be a race to get Chris ready to go and take him to school before they’re late for their own shift. “‘s been a long day.” 

Eddie stands up. 

(Focus, Buck.)

“Goodnight.” He says, and Eddie nods, shakes his head, nods again. He holds out his hand. 

“Let’s go.” 

“Eddie.” 

“Just- just for tonight.” 

He takes Eddie’s hand. They go back to Eddie’s bedroom without letting go. The bed is unmade, the sheets ruffled where Eddie twisted and turned before eventually coming out to find him. 

He lays down on the left, Eddie on the right, a silent agreement they decided on during the pandemic, and that they always go back to when they occasionally happen to share a bed. 

“Sleep.” He says, and Eddie hums. 

(Focus, Buck.)

In the end, it doesn’t take very long, not with the familiar weight of Eddie’s body next to him, not when he can listen to his breathing, feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. He’s asleep before he knows it. 

(And if in the morning, they wake up tangled into each other, then,well, it’s not like anyone else saw them.) 

Chapter Text

[Only you who has my body and heals it

I'm the one, can you feel it?

Darlin', can I be your favorite?]

They’re on hour 20 of a 24 hour shift. It’s a medical call, nothing too serious, a girl got sick after drinking too much at a bachelorette party, and her friends got scared and called them over. So here they are, at 4am, hanging outside of the bar while Hen and Chim take care of the patient. 

He and Eddie are leaning against the engine, waiting for them to be done. Eddie looks good, a little sleepy, ruffled from being woken up suddenly when the alarm went off. His hair is sticking in odd directions, loose without any product in. 

“It’s too late for this.” Eddie says, hiding a yawn behind his hand. “And it’s cold.”
“It’s not cold.”
“Speak for yourself.” Eddie wraps his arms around himself, and under the light of the streetlamp, shoulders hunched to keep warm, he looks smaller, softer. Buck wants to wrap his arms around him, hold him against his chest, let Eddie leach the heat from his body. 

He doesn’t. 

(Focus, Buck.) 

“It’s like 70 degrees.” 

“Exactly.” Buck scoffs, rolls his eyes, and Eddie slaps his arm. “I’m from Texas, man, it could very well be snowing right now.” 

“And they say I’m the dramatic one.”
“You are dramatic.” 

“You wouldn't survive a day in Pennsylvania." 

“Thank God I don’t have to go there ever.” 

It goes on, he’s half-way through a sentence when a girl slides up to them. Buck cuts himself off, turning to look at her. She’s probably somewhere around his age, brunette, dark eyes, olive skin, she’s pretty. She’s gorgeous. 

“Sorry to bother you.” She says, her words a little slurred. “Are you single?” 

(So what if he looks over at Eddie?)
(It doesn’t mean anything.)

“I, uh- 

“I don’t see a ring.” She says, pointing to his hand, which is, in fact, very much ring-less. 

“I’m- no, yeah, I’m single.” 

“You’re cute.” She says then, and then she hands him a business card. “My number’s on there, my name’s Isabella. Call me.” 

She’s gone then, hips swaying as she makes her way back to her friends, the same bachelorette group. Before going back inside, she turns to smile at him, blows him a kiss, and then disappears back in the bar. 

“Well, that was something.” 

Eddie’s voice brings him back to reality, and Buck whips around to look at him. He can’t decipher the expression on Eddie’s face, and that is unsettling, because he usually always can. 

“Uh, yeah. She sure was.” 

Eddie’s jaw ticks. 

“Are you gonna call her?” 

“What?”
Eddie nods towards the card he’s still clutching in his hand. It does indeed have her phone number, and Isabella is scribbled right under it. She’s a lawyer. 

“Are you gonna call her?” Eddie asks again, and he shakes his head, because as if, but before he can express as much, Bobby appears on the door of the bar.

“Boys, we need you to break up a fight.”
“A fight?”
“Yeah, c’mon, c’mon, let’s go.”
And so the card and Isabella are immediately forgotten, and Buck enters the bar first, with Eddie hot on his heels. 

The house is quiet when they get home, the morning sun coming in through the windows, sealing the house in soft yellows and warm blues. Chris is already at school. 

(Focus, Buck.)

Buck is buzzing. 

After the call at the bar, they’d never made it back to the firehouse, getting called to a pile-up that had taken hours to resolve. But that’s not really the problem. 

The problem is Eddie. 

(Heavy eyes and lingering hands, looks that last too long and whispered words, filthy things, dirty things, directly against his ear in too public places.) 

(A hand on the small of his back, shoulders brushing together, fingers pressed against his wrist.)

He’s been driving Buck crazy for the past five hours. He feels like he’s going to lose it. 

(Focus, Buck.)

Eddie’s staring right now too, Buck feels it like a tangible weight on his back as he toes off his shoes and walks in the kitchen. He doesn’t quite know what to make of it, of this whole thing, he’s not sure of what caused it, what suddenly made Eddie go fucking crazy. 

Then, Eddie talks. 

“Are you gonna throw it away?” 

It’s so unprompted, so random, so generic that Buck is stunned into absolute silence, blinking at Eddie.
“What?” He asks, and Eddie scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest, making his muscles bulge and effectively distracting Buck from this already confusing conversation. 

“Right.” Eddie says. “You kept her number.” 

“Who the fuck- Isabella?” He asks, and Eddie’s eyes burn on his skin. 

“She was pretty.” It’s all Eddie says, something dark twisting in his eyes, something vicious and violent and bloodthirsty. It makes his knees go weak, makes adrenaline run in his veins. 

He smiles, cocky and confident, biting his lip. He watches Eddie’s eyes blow wide, focused on the movement. Oh. 

“Yeah, she was.” He says, reaching in his pockets for the damn business card. He shows it to Eddie, and he stiffens, shoulders tense and jaw locked. "Jealous, Eds?” 

Eddie’s jaw ticks again.

“No.” Eddie lies, like a liar. “It’s not like you’re actually gonna call her.”  

Around them, the air feels charged, sparking with electricity. He’s not sure when they got so close, but they are, standing in front of each other in the cramped hallway. This close, he can breathe in the scent of Eddie’s bodywash, of soap and pinewood. He can see the gold specks in his eyes. He can see the twitching of his mouth as he tries to keep calm. 

(He intends to push, see how far Eddie will go.) 

And so, he asks.

“Why not?” 

Eddie’s on him. 

Eddie pushes him back until his shoulders hit the wall, and kisses him. Buck kisses back, hungry and intense, it burns through him like liquid fire, sending jolts of pleasure through his body. He moans against Eddie’s mouth, the noise lost between Eddie’s lips. 

“You’re such a brat.” Eddie bites, dipping lower to press wet kisses against his neck. Buck lets him, tilting his head back. 

“You are jealous.” 

“I’ve got no reason to be.” Eddie pulls back, staring him down. “Do I?” 

Buck’s stomach swoops, his heart races, his skin burns where Eddie’s touching him. He shakes his head.

“No.” He says, and it comes out quieter than he meant to, but suddenly he can’t breathe at all. He rips the card in two, lets the pieces fall to the ground. “Eddie.”
Eddie’s there, always, kissing him again like he’s trying to eat him alive. He takes Buck’s wrist, his grip tight, drags him along, towards the bedroom. 

“Fuck, Buck.” Eddie moans, pulling Buck’s shirt off. When Eddie pushes, Buck goes, dropping to the floor in a fluid motion. He looks up at Eddie, hard as a rock in his pants, his cock pressing against his jeans. 

“God, Eddie, c’mon.” He says, reaching up to undo Eddie’s belt and the button of his jeans. 

“Needy.” Eddie says, but he doesn’t stop Buck, kicking off his pants when Buck pulls them down. There’s a wet patch over his boxers, he can see the outline of his cock, and he’s salivating just thinking about it. “C’mon, sweetheart, show me what that mouth can do.” 

“Christ.” He groans, and then he’s pulling out Eddie’s cock.

(Focus, Buck.)

He doesn’t waste any time, leaning in to lick a long stripe from base to tip. He wraps his lips around the head, twirling his tongue over the slit, and above him, Eddie groans, one hand coming up to curl in Buck’s hair. 

“Jesus, Buck.” Eddie moans, and it spurs him on. He leans in, taking almost all of it in his mouth, all the way until it hits the back of his throat, and then he swallows. Eddie’s grip tightens, tugging at his hair so hard it hurts, sending electricity down his spine. “Buck, fuck, cariño, you make me crazy.” 

He groans around Eddie’s cock, bobbing his head up and down the length, swallowing more of it. Eddie’s hips snap forward, and Buck gags, eyes tearing up and cock leaking in his pants. 

“Fuck, you like that, don’t you?” Eddie asks, want dripping in his voice, and he nods as best as he can, blinks up at Eddie through the tears. 

“Put your hands behind your back.” Eddie says. “Snap your fingers if you want to stop.” 

He nods in understanding, and that’s all the warning he gets.  Eddie holds his head steady by his hair, and pushes forward, all the way in until it’s in his throat, and he can’t breathe, and he doesn’t even care. 

Eddie fucks his mouth with abandon, the sound of it filthy and pornographic, spit runs down his chin and he can’t breathe, and it’s perfect. 

“Dios, cariño, you look so good on your knees for me, it’s like you were made for this.” Eddie talks, voice rough and hoarse, the words spilling from his mouth like he’s trying to kill Buck with his voice alone. “Made to suck cock, my cock, isn’t that right, baby?” 

He moans, eyes rolling against his skull, his cock straining in his jeans. Eddie pushes forward and stays there, buried deep down his throat. Buck doesn’t struggle against him, sinking in the heady feeling, lungs burning and mind quiet, the world reduced to Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie-

“I should keep you like this all the time.” Eddie continues, nails scratching against his scalp. “Bet you’d love it too, right, amorcito? I know you would, you’d do anything I ask, right, baby?” 

Eddie lets him up then, and he sucks in a lungful of air, choking a little. He nods, though, still looking at Eddie.

“Yeah.” He chokes out, voice fucked out and raw. “Yeah, yeah, Eds, anything, anything you want, please.” 

Eddie smirks, teeth bared, pushes him down again, and Buck goes. He fights with himself to hold still, gagging a little around Eddie’s cock, but Eddie doesn’t let him up. 

“You look so pretty like this, baby, so fucking gorgeous, you’re so cute when you cry, you know?” Eddie asks, pulling back a little, just to fuck back inside his mouth again. “That girl wouldn’t have known what to do with you.” 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

Eddie pulls him off and he breathes in greedily, but before he’s done, Eddie’s pushing again, and tears spill from his eyes, his cock twitches. Eddie’s grip on his hair is tight, it hurts, and the pain is grounding, it twists with the pleasure running through his veins, an intoxicating mix, addicting. 

“None of them know how to treat you like you deserve.” Eddie says, his other hand slipping lower to close around his neck, and he chokes, Eddie keeps going, fucking his throat, he takes and takes and takes and Buck lets him have anything, everything. “That’s okay, I know what you want, what- what you like, baby, I’ll treat you like you deserve, baby, Christ-

Eddie’s voice breaks, his pace stutters, he’s close. Buck doubles his efforts, licking along Eddie’s dick, the pressure on his throat making him dizzy.

“Fuck, Buck, fuck, fuck- you’re so- you’re so good for me, baby, so perfect, fuck- 

Eddie comes with his name caught between his teeth, spilling down his throat, warm and salty. Buck swallows is all greedily, licks at Eddie’s softening cock to make sure he’s got every drop of it, he wants and wants and wants-

“Jesus Christ, Buck.” 

Eddie pulls him up, pushes him on the bed, and he goes, dizzy and panting and achingly hard. Eddie presses on top of him, pushing his legs apart to make space for himself there. He kisses Buck, deep and slow, licking into his mouth like he’s marking territory, and it tastes like him still. Buck kisses him back, lets Eddie undo his pants and take them off together with his underwear. 

Then, Eddie kisses him again, finds his wrists and pushes them above his head. He moans quietly, sinking in the stretch, arching under Eddie to get close, closer, always a bit closer, he’s so turned on he thinks it might kill him. 

“Eddie.” He whines, and he feels Eddie smile against his lips. 

“I know, cariño, I know, I know what you need.” Eddie whispers, letting his hands go. “Keep ‘em there.”
He nods immediately, and really, he’s expecting Eddie to go down on him, but Eddie doesn’t, trailing kisses along his jaw down his neck. 

(Focus, Buck.)

Eddie’s lips trail lower still, across his clavicles and his sternum, pressing wet kisses on inked skin and sucking red marks on fading scars.
“Eddie.” He chokes out, because this is- this is different, and it makes the ground shake under them, like it’s going to suddenly open up and swallow them both for their sins. 

“Relax, baby, I got you. I got you.” Eddie says, and he feels the tension ease out of his muscles at Eddie’s words, like an incantation. “Yeah, like that, cariño, just like that, baby, you’re so good for me, such a good boy.” 

He moans, can’t help it, and Eddie’s quiet laugh rings in his ears. 

Then, Eddie keeps going. 

(Focus, Buck.)

He makes his way south across Buck’s body, mapping out every inch of it, of him, with his fingers and tongue. He leaves behind lip-shaped bruises on each one of his ribs, his fingers hold him so tightly that he knows he’ll be able to see it tomorrow, the exact spot where Eddie’s holding him. 

He paints reds and purples on his chest, tracing his tattoos with his tongue. He presses wet kisses over his heart, and licks at his nipple. 

“Eddie.” He moans quietly, it cracks through the silence of the room like thunder. 

“Relax.” Eddie whispers again, sucking gently at one of his nipples. He bites, twisting the other between his fingers, and electricity fries down his spine, sparks in the space between their bodies. It feels good, too good, intimate and private. 

There’s adoration in Eddie’s hands, the way he looks up at Buck, eyes clouded with lust. He sinks his teeth in Buck’s chest, sucks, bites, and the pain is sharp, violent, he sinks in it and it rips a moan out of him, an endless lithany of ‘Eddie’ and ‘please’ and ‘fuck’.

“You’re so beautiful, Buck.” Eddie says, quiet, like maybe he hadn’t meant to say it all, and it makes his heart to somersaults. “Even more like this.” 

Eddie draws constellations on his body, made of kisses and bite marks, connects faded scars with new bruises, until every inch of Buck’s body has been touched and kissed and loved. 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

It seems to go on forever. 

Eddie squeezes him and touches him and kisses him and bites him, licks and sucks and loves, and it makes tears burn in his eyes. 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

Once Eddie deems his chest and stomach down, he moves lower to his legs. He bypasses Buck’s cock completely, still leaking obscenely on his stomach, and instead sinks his teeth in the softer part of his thigh. He yelps, moans, tears burn in his eyes, and Eddie only moves to the other side, leaving matching bite marks. 

His hands burn on Buck’s skin, press into it, into him, like he’s trying to get under Buck’s skin.

(As if he isn’t already, as if his name isn’t carved on Buck’s bones, as if he hasn’t lived in Buck’s ribcage since they first met, as if Buck’s very soul doesn’t burn whenever they’re close.) 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

“Buck.” Eddie says, and then he’s sucking red marks on his neck, above the collar of the uniform. He squirms a little, because it feels very good, but it’s not- 

(It’s not what they do.)

(Shameful, hidden, secretive, Eddie always pulls back first, Buck likes to pretend it’s just for them but he knows it doesn’t mean anything, it’s not what they do.)

“Eddie.” He says, breathless as Eddie sucks another mark on the other side of his neck. “What- what are you doing?” 

Eddie lets out a low sound, something between a moan and a growl, his hands squeeze on Buck’s hips, his waist, his legs, his ass, like he can’t get enough, like he wants all of it, more.
“I’m marking what’s mine.” Eddie says, low and dark, and when he pulls back, his gaze is heavy, predatory, possessive. Their next kiss is the same. 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

“Oh God.” He chokes out, and Eddie grins against his skin, he feels it like a brand on his soul, a death warrant. “Eddie, fuck.” 

“You like that, don’t you?” Eddie asks, and Buck nods. “You do, I knew you would, cariño, you wanna be mine?” 

It’s like somebody took his brain and scrambled it. He can’t form a single thought beyond Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie-

“Eddie, Eds, fuck, fuck- I- you-

“I know you do.” Eddie cuts him off, and Buck’s dick so hard and it hurts, and somehow, Eddie’s words are worse. “That’s okay, sweetheart, you’re already mine, look at yourself.” 

And Buck does, takes in the infinite marks on his skin, thinks about how they’ll bloom in darker bruises by tomorrow, how obvious they’re all gonna be, and he’s never felt like this, so wanted, so desperately wanted, seen and chosen and taken. 

“Eddie.” He chokes out, and Eddie kisses him, licks into his mouth to claim it, claim him. 

“You’re mine, Buck, mine.” Eddie hisses, biting at his bottom lip, and Buck nods, breathless. “Say it, Buck, say it.” 

“Yours.” He whispers, tears spilling from his eyes. “I’m yours, Eddie, always- only yours.”
Eddie groans, sucks at his neck, the same spot where Eddie’s hand always seems to land, where his pulse beats stronger, and bites, hard, a mark that’s gonna last for days. 

“Say it again.”
“Yours, Eddie, yours, I’m yours, only yours, please, please, I need- I- 

“What do you need, baby? Tell me, let me give it to you, amorcito, anything you want.”
“You.” He gasps. “I need you, I need you to fuck me, please, I need you, I want you, please, Eddie.”
“Christ.” Eddie  sounds like he just got punched, looking up at Buck with wonder in his eyes. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

Eddie pulls back long enough to grab the lube, but doesn’t open it. Instead, he pushes Buck’s legs wider apart, fingers sinking in his thighs, and then, he licks at his hole. He groans, hands scrambling to find purchase on the pillows above his head at the sensation.

“Fuck, Eddie, fuck, do it again, please, please.”
Eddie does, licking more decisively against his hole, and then he really goes for it, pushing his tongue against the rim of muscles until it gives it. He licks and sucks and bites, and Buck drowns in the sensation. Eddie adds a finger to it at some point, slowly working it inside, saliva making the glide smoother. 

“Eddie, Eddie, fuck.” Buck is babbling, he’s distantly aware of that, but he doesn’t care, because then, Eddie squirts some lube on his hand and pushes a second finger in, and he finds Buck’s prostate with deadly precision, and stars explode in front of his eyes. 

“Oh God, Chris, fuck, fuck- Eddie-

“Keep your hands there, Buck, or I’ll tie you up.” 

He groans at the prospect.

“Maybe you should.” He chokes out, and Eddie’s eyes are dark, heavy. 

“Myabe I should.” Eddie echoes, fingers speeding up, making pleasure twist in his veins, making his cock leak obscenely, making want burn in his blood. “Maybe I should keep you tied up all the time, keep you right here on this bed, open and loose, fuck you whenever I feel like it.” 

He moans, fucking back against Eddie’s fingers.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Eddie asks, adoration and hunger dripping in his voice. “You do, you’d love it, be my fucktoy, my good boy, I’d fuck you and use you and keep you here forever, all mine, only mine.”
“Eddie.” 

Eddie bites him again, on his V-line, so close to his cock he wants to cry, mind spinning, he feels so wound up, coiled, ready to snap. 

“Eddie, please.” 

“I’d tattoo my name on you.” Eddie says, and tears spill from his eyes again. Eddie rises up along his body again, fingers still fucking inside his hole. Eddie presses his lips over his heart. “Right here.” 

“Oh my God, Eddie, Eddie, please, I want it, I want it so bad, I want you, I’m so close, Eddie, please, please, please-

“No.” Eddie says, pulling his hand away, and Buck whines, sobs, whimpers, and Eddie only slaps his thigh in return. “I didn’t give you permission to come, did I, cariño?”
He shakes his head, and Eddie slaps his thigh again.
“No.” He chokes out. “No, no, you- you didn’t.”
“That’s right.” Eddie says, fingers return to his hole, still two, pushing in easily, avoiding his prostate this time. “You know why, baby?” 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

“Because, it’s- because I’m yours, I- belong to you.” He says, feels it in his very soul. Eddie smiles, sharp and violent, so beautiful it hurts. He nods.

“That’s right, cariño, your cock is mine, your cum is mine, this pussy is mine, you’re mine.” 

He’s powerless under the onslaught of Eddie's lips and fingers, melting into the mattress under Eddie’s weight, sinking and sinking and sinking, he can’t breathe right anymore. 

When Eddie finally pulls his fingers out, he’s still only used two instead of the three they usually go for. Buck doesn’t mind, he craves it in fact, the burn, the stretch, it makes heat stir in his guts, and he’s already so close to the precipice. 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

Eddie reaches for a condom, looks at him and Buck shakes his head.

“I wanna feel you.” He says, aware of how fucked out he sounds already, ruined for everyone else. “Please.”
Eddie kisses him, lines up, keeps kissing him as he pushes in. 

It’s tight, just on this side of too much, it does burn and it does sting, and it’s delicious, Eddie forcing Buck’s body to make space for him, he feels every inch of Eddie’s cock, until he’s fully bottomed out. 

“Buck.” Eddie gasps around his name, his eyes glimmer in the soft light of the room. “Buck, fuck, you’re so tight, baby, so fucking good, God, fuck.”
“Eddie, please, I- can I move? I wanna touch you, please, I need- I want-

“Yeah, yeah, of course, cariño, of course.”
He digs his fingers in Eddie’s shoulders and pulls him down in a bruising kiss, violent and desperate and possessive. Buck licks into his mouth and Eddie bites his lip, they breathe the same air, don’t breathe at all, suffocate each other’s moans between them. 

Eddie fucks him like the world might end him tomorrow, hard and fast and deep, fucks him like he wants Buck to feel it forever, like he’s trying to imprint his name in his insides, and Buck arches under him, groans at the sensation of it. Everything is Eddie, his scent in Buck’s nose, of sweat and pinewood and soap, his taste on Buck’s tongue, salty and warm, his hands and marks and bruises all over Buck’s body. 

“Buck.” Eddie says again, and he moans, lips parting. 

Eddie spits, and Buck swallows. 

“Holy shit.” Eddie grits out.
“Again.” He says, and Eddie’s eyes are so dark, endless pools of black and gold. “Please, Eddie, please, I wanna be yours.”
“You are.” Eddie grits out. He grabs Buck’s face with one hand, tight, and Buck wonders if it’ll leave bruises there too, for everyone to see. Eddie forces his mouth open, holding his jaw tightly, and spits again. He presses a finger on his tongue, then two, pushing the spit down his throat, and Buck groans, gags, tearing up again, and Eddie’s pace stutters. 

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie whispers, veneration in his voice, pushing his fingers deeper in his mouth. “Christ, Buck, Jesus.” 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

“Ed’ie” He garbles, spit running down his chin, fingers scrambling on Eddie’s chest. “Pl’ae.” 

Eddie pulls his fingers out, and Buck sucks in air, Eddie’s taste lingering on his tongue. 

“Say it again, Buck.” Eddie says, the same hand closing around Buck’s dick between them. “Say it.”
“Yours.” He breathes out, the pleasure intense and all-consuming, destructive, it burns him from the inside out. “I’m yours, Eddie, I’ve always- been yours, only yours, forever, please, please, please-

“Come for me, Buck, baby, c’mon.”
(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

He does, spilling all over his stomach and Eddie’s fingers. It fries through him like lightning, like electricity, colorful spots blinking in front of his eyes. He feels himself clench down on Eddie’s cock, sucking him impossibly deeper and that’s enough to drag Eddie over the edge too. 

Eddie comes buried deep inside his body, fucking into him a few more times, holding him tightly still, again, always. Eddie looks at him, panting, Buck stares back. Buck kisses him, Eddie kisses back, then again, and one more time. 

(Always one more, when it’s Eddie.) 

(Focus, Buck.)

“Holy shit.” Eddie whispers and Buck nods, brain still buzzing. “Don’t move.” Eddie says, but Buck wouldn’t be able to even if he tried, muscles melted and bones heavy. 

“Okay.” He says anyway, and Eddie pulls out gently. He feels cum drip between his cheeks. 

“Turn around.” Eddie says, and he does, flopping on his stomach. Eddie’s hands are on him, spreading his ass to dip a finger in the cum leaking out of his hole. He gasps quietly, shivers wrecking through him. “Christ, Buck.” 

Eddie pushes the cum back inside with a finger, holds it there, and he moans, blush rising to his face.

“Eddie.” He whines. “Eddie, please.” 

“You should see yourself like this, Buck.” Eddie whispers, fucking his finger in and out of Buck, a slow drag and constant push against his battered prostate that has his dick twitching where it’s trapped below him. “You’re so pretty like this, Buck, full of cum and still desperate for more, needy, little thing like you.” 

“Eddie, Eddie, God, wait, wait- fuck.” 

The slap lands quickly, on his ass, and he stops squirming, skin burning where Eddie hit over fading bruises from the last time they did this, the bite of the belt still imprinted in his skin. 

“Do you think you can come again?” Eddie asks, pushing two fingers inside his hole. “From this?” 

“I- I don’t- I don’t know-

“For me?”
“That’s so unfair.” He says, even as he moans. Eddie leans down, pressing a kiss in the small of his back. 

“I know.” 

“Ma- maybe.” He chokes out in the end. 

“Get on your hands and knees for me, baby, c’mon.” Eddie says, helping him move when his body doesn't respond as it should. “Don’t want you rubbing on the bed, do we? That would be cheating.”
“Fuck off.” He exhales, and he moans when Eddie slaps his ass again.

“Don’t be bratty.” Eddie says. “You’re mine, sweetheart, so I get to do whatever I want with you. Say it, Buck.”
“I’m yours.” He says, a blanket taking over his brain, buzzing quietly. “So you can do whatever you want with me.”
“That’s right, sweetheart.” 

(Focus, Buck.)

He feels Eddie’s breath on the sensitive skin of his ass, and then he feels the bite of his teeth, canines sinking in. He groans, moans at the pain, sinks in the bite, and he thinks of how it’ll look, a circular bruise in the shape of Eddie’s teeth over the fading bruises of his belt, dark purples over fading greens. It makes him feel crazy, it makes his blood sink, brain spinning. 

“Christ, Eddie.” He whimpers. “Do it- again, please, please.”
Eddie does, over and over, bites at his ass and then higher across his back, his shoulders, his thighs. He picks up the pace, fucking two fingers in and out of Buck’s hole, sloppy with lube and Eddie’s cum, he rubs at his prostate insistently, and soon enough, his dick is fully hard again. It hurts in a distant kind of way, too soon after his last orgasm, the pain of it quickly replaced by the burning need to come again. 

“Eddie, Eddie, you’ve gotta touch me, please, I can’t- not like this, please, please, please-
“You can beg as much as you like.” Eddie says, forcing a third finger in. He chokes on thin air, sobs, drops to his forearms. “But you’re coming like this or you’re not coming at all.”
“Fuck.” 

It’s a punishing pace that Eddie keeps, electricity frying up and down his body constantly, the pleasure razor-sharp, right on the edge of too much and not enough. 

“Eddie, please.” 

“C’mon, cariño, I know you wanna be good for me, I know you can do it, baby, do it for me.” 

Tears spill down his face, dampening the sheets below him. A puddle of precum has formed below his dick, twitching uselessly between his legs, and Buck has to dig his nails into his palms to keep from reaching out, desperation burning bright inside him. 

“You’re so pretty like this, baby.” Eddie says, lips pressed against his back again. “With my cum leaking out of your sloppy hole, you’re always so tight, baby, like you’re trying to milk me dry every time, cariño, such a good pussy, I could spend hours fucking it, fucking you, and never get enough.”
“Oh God, Eddie, fuck, fuck, fuck-

“Next time I’ll plug you up, keep my cum inside you, push it deep inside and keep it there, so maybe it’ll catch-

“Eddie-

He comes like that, with a broken moan and Eddie’s fingers buried deep inside him, and his voice ringing in his head, maybe it’ll catch, maybe it’ll catch, maybe it’ll catch-

“Jesus, Buck.” 

It’s not pleasant, not really, not with any stimulation on his cock, it just leaks out of him in a steady drip, pooling under him. He shakes and moans all the way through it, fire burning in his veins, and it doesn’t really feel like a release. It’s so frustrating it makes more tears spring in his eyes, and he can’t quite catch his breath until it’s done.

(Focus, Buck.) 

“Shit.” He exhales in the end. “Shit.” 

“Buck.” Eddie whispers, and it’s only because Eddie’s hands are still holding him up that he doesn’t flop right on the puddle of cum. Instead, Eddie guides him to lay down on the bed, away from the cum, on his back. He goes easily, his body malleable and spent, his brain half-way down still. 

“Buck.” Eddie says again, and then he’s there, hovering over his face. Eddie kisses him, gentle and sweet and slow. Buck’s too tired to really kiss back, but Eddie’s doesn’t seem to mind, sticky fingers brushing on Buck’s cheek. “You were perfect, cariño. Perfect.”
“Eddie.” He whispers, the only thing he can get himself to say, and Eddie smiles, kisses him again. 

“Right here, sweetheart, you did so good, so good for me, baby, such a good boy, perfect.” 

(Focus, Buck.)

Eddie pulls back and cold washes over him, but Eddie doesn’t go very far. 

“You need to take a shower, honey.” 

“Too tired.” He mumbles, letting his eyes slip closed. “Later.”
“You’re covered in cum and sweat.” 

“Who’s fault is that?” 

“You didn’t seem to mind.” Eddie says, teasing, and Buck feels his own lips curve into a smile out of their own volition, helpless against Eddie’s easy charm. 

“Don’t wanna.” 

“C’mon, cariño, the sooner you clean up, the sooner you can come back to bed.” 

(Focus, Buck.)

It’s not wrong, he supposes. Still, he holds his arms up and lets Eddie do most of the work to pull him up. Eddie does it without complaining, smiling softly as he half-drags Buck into the bathroom. He turns on the shower, and while they wait for the water to warm up, they make out slowly in front of the mirror. 

He catches his own reflection in it, the stark contrast  of the bites against the paleness of his skin, and another thrill runs through him, at how obvious they are, how visible.

(Everyone will know, everyone will take one look at him, and know.)

(Yours, yours, yours, yours, yours-

“You like ‘em?” Eddie asks, catching Buck’s eyes in the reflection, and he nods. Eddie shifts behind him, hands resting on his waist, and he presses his lips over one of the bites, licks and kisses the abused skin there until Buck’s knees go weak under him. Eddie smiles, something shifting in his eyes, that bloodthirsty, violent thing finally satisfied. He smiles too, sinking against Eddie’s broad chest, sighing quietly when Eddie doesn’t flinch under his weight. 

(Focus, Buck.)

“C’mon.” Eddie takes his hand, guides them both under the spray. The warm water feels like heaven on his muscles. Eddie’s fingers feel even better.

Eddie runs his hands across every inch of Buck’s body. He washes the tears and saliva away from his face, careful to not get any water in his eyes. He massages his shoulders until they drop, until Buck’s not sure he even has a vertebral column anymore. He cleans the cum and lube from his stomach and thighs and ass, and when he huffs a displeased sound at that, Eddie just smiles.

“You’re still mine.” Eddie says, fingers pressing over one of the million random bruises that adorn his body.  

(I love you.) 

He kisses Eddie instead, burying that burning truth between them, like maybe it won’t hurt them that way.

(It will, Buck knows it will.)

(But it won’t today, and Buck’s selfish enough to be okay with that.) 

(Focus, Buck.)

“Let’s go.” 

They come out when the water starts turning cold, and they dry up quickly. Before he can even stress about where to go to sleep, Eddie takes his wrist and drags him back to the bedroom. They change the sheets as quickly as they can, throwing them in a corner of the room, and then they collapse on the freshly made bed with matching groans. 

“Fuck.” He exhales, limbs heavy, and Eddie hums. They’re not wearing shirts, so when Eddie touches him, his hand meets bare skin. Buck turns to look at him, eyes heavy with exhaustion. 

The sun is high and bright by now, somewhere past 9am, and the warm light makes Eddie’s eyes shine with gold, makes his skin glow, he’s so beautiful. 

“Hey.” He says. “Sleep?”
Eddie nods, his fingers clench on Buck’s side, let go, and he mourns the loss of it. 

(Focus, Buck.)

“You can call her.” Eddie says then, and it’s- it’s-

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

“What?” He chokes out. 

“The girl.” Eddie says, like glass shards are embedded in his throat. Buck’s mouth tastes like blood too. “The girl from the bar.”
He doesn’t understand. 

(Except that he does, of course.)

(He knows what this is.) 

(He knows it’s nothing.)

He thinks about the ripped card on the hallway floor, the heat in Eddie’s eyes when he did that, yours. Suddenly, the bruises and the hickeys start hurting, brand new wounds over never-healed scars.

“Do you want me to?” 

Eddie shrugs, like he doesn’t care, and Buck doesn’t understand, because he knows Eddie does, he can see it clearly in his eyes, the tense set of his shoulders, lips pressed together into a thin line. 

“It doesn’t matter what I want.” Eddie says, and Buck feels sick.

“What about what I want?” Eddie looks away, and it’s like being stabbed. “Right.” 

“Buck.” Eddie says, but he’s already gotten up. He shakes his head.

“No, no, I- I get it, it’s- fine. I- I know.” 

Eddie’s standing too, catching his wrist before Buck can get out of the door. He stops, his skin burns where Eddie’s touching him. Eddie’s hickeys and bruises feel like pinpricks on his skin, an awful fucking reminder of what it could be, and how it isn’t. 

(Focus, Buck.)

Eddie’s mouth opens, closes, opens again.

“Are you?”
“What?”
“Gonna call her.”
He kind of wants to cry. He doesn.’t 

“Would you care if I did?” 

“You’re my best friend, Buck.” 

“Yeah, I know.” He exhales, pulls his hand away from Eddie’s grip. “No, I won’t call her.” 

Eddies’s shoulders sag, visible relief taking over his face. He still feels sick. 

“I’m gonna sleep.”
“You don’t have to leave.” 

“Fuck off, Eddie.” 

Eddie lets him go, doesn’t say anything else, so Buck pulls the door of the bedroom open and closes it quietly when he leaves. 

He goes to the couch, and he grabs a shirt from the drier, so he won’t have to look at the mess on his chest. He lays down and he doesn’t think about Eddie. 

He falls asleep soon enough, and he dreams of falling and falling and falling and breaking all of his bones. 

Chapter Text

[My love, are you the Devil?

I would worship you instead of him]

It was an accident. Really. 

(Breathe.) 

“C’mon, let’s see it.” 

They’re alone in the house.

“It’s just a couple of scratches.” 

“You’re lucky you didn’t need stitches.” Buck grumbles. “C’mon.” 

So Eddie sits on the couch and strips off his shirt. 

“You know, I’m the medic.” 

“You’re an idiot.”
“Now you know how I feel every time you do something stupid.” He replies, as Buck sits down next to him with the first aid kit open on the coffee table. “Not so fun, uh?” 

A smile tugs at the corner of Buck’s lips, his hands are careful as they peel off Eddie’s shirt from his skin, tacky with dried blood and sweat. 

The cuts really aren’t that bad. 

He got hurt trying to prune the tree in the backyard, got a few ugly scratches on his chest and arms and face for his troubles. They make his skin pull, burn, and his fingers twitch on the couch, the pain dull and insistent, God knows he’s had way worse. 

Buck’s hands are steady as they clean the open cuts, the few droplets of blood running down his chest, bandage themup with clean gauze. His eyes are focused, blue and heavy, Eddie feels them like a tangible weight on his body, his fingers are cold. It’s quiet, too quiet. 

(Breathe.)

Then Buck frowns, pressing gauze on a cut that just won’t stop bleeding. It’s on his wrist, right above his pulse. 

“Just keep putting pressure on it.” He says, and it comes out quieter than he meant to, but he can’t quite focus either, too busy looking at Buck, the storm in his eyes, the hard line of his jaw, the gentle curve of his lips, the way the light hits his curls, golden and holy. 

“Buck.” 

“It won’t stop bleeding.” Buck says, no more than a murmur, and then Eddie watches, breathless and paralyzed, as Buck brings his wrists to his lips, and licks.

(Breathe, God, breathe-

Buck’s tongue swipes over the open cut, and when Buck pulls back, his lips are red.

“Buck.” It falls from his lips without him really meaning to, Buck’s eyes are liquid, endless pools of darkness, shark-infested waters, and Eddie’s bleeding all over. 

“Sorry.” Buck whispers, doesn’t look away, and Eddie can’t either, eyes transfixed on the redness staining his lips, damning and mocking in the desire that it elicits in him. He swallows, hard, watches Buck’s eyes track the movement. 

(Breathe.)

“Sorry, that was- weird.” Buck says, still quiet, still unblinking, his eyes travel down Eddie’s face, to his neck and chest, to the arm he’s still holding, the open cut. 

“No.” He says. “It’s okay.” 

Buck’s eyes snap up to him again, wide and pleading, and it’s fucked up, God, it’s so fucked up, and he wants anyway. 

(There’s a monster in Eddie’s chest, a dark, violent beast that Eddie’s tried to suffocate and kill too many times to count.) 

(It lives, though, unable to die despite Eddie’s best efforts, it survives and yearns and craves, and nothing ever made it as hungry as Buck’s desperation.) 

(Breathe.) 

“You want to do it again, Buck?” He asks, aware of how hoarse his own voice is. Buck’s lips  part, his tongue darts out to lick at them, pink and wet, and he exhales a shuttered breath, his grip tightens on Eddie’s arm. 

“Eddie, I- it’s- 

“You can have it.” 

Buck makes a whining sound, a desperate, pathetic little thing that makes the beast in Eddie’s chest growl, eager to take. 

(The flames of Hell lick at his feet, the ground shakes under him.)

(But Eddie’s a sinner, and Buck’s always been impossible to resist.) 

He lets his lips pull into a smile, cold and vicious, and Buck’s eyes blow dark, he’s breathing harsh and fast. When Eddie pushes, Buck goes. When Eddie pulls, Buck follows.

(Breathe.) 

He sinks in the couch, spreads his legs wider, grabs Buck’s waist to pull him on his lap. Buck’s heavy on top of him, a steady weight against the storm raging in his chest. 

“Eddie.” Buck murmurs, breathless and desperate already, eyes glossy and so, so blue. 

“C’mon, cariño, I know you want it.” He says, lifting his wrists to Buck’s lips. The cut is still bleeding steadily, and when Eddie brushes it against Buck’s lips it leaves a smear of red on his mouth. Buck moans, his hands digging in Eddie’s shoulders, leaving behind half-moon marks. 

“’s- ‘s fucked up.” Buck chokes out, and Eddie nods, because it is, but then, he likes it too. 

“Take it, Buck.” 

And then Buck’s lips close on the cut, his hands dig in Eddie’s arm, and Buck sucks, tongue swiping over the cut to lap at the droplets of blood there. They groan in unison, it echoes down the halls and bounces against the walls of the house, incriminatory and ruinous. 

(Breathe.)

“Eddie.” Buck moans, and Eddie buries his other hand in Buck’s curls, pulls him down to kiss him, and it tastes like copper and smoke, blood and fire, sinful and divine and he’s so, so ruined. He licks into Buck’s mouth, starved in a way that might kill him, bites at Buck’s bottom lip until it bleeds, swallows it all down with a moan. 

“Fuck, Buck.” He says, throws his head back when Buck’s lips slide along his jaw, presses wet kisses against his neck, over his pulse point, stop there to suck. Shivers wreck through him, the thought of filling Buck up with him an addicting one, impossible to ignore. 

He tightens his grip on Buck’s waist, hard enough to bruise, he wants to mark him, keep him forever, mine,mine, mine, mine, mine-

“Eddie.” Buck breathes out, against his neck. “C-can I- can- please? Can I?” 

Buck sounds so desperate and eager, so broken, that Eddie would have a hard time denying him anything. Certainly not this. 

He nods, tilting his head to the side.

“Yeah.” 

Buck bites and the pain is violent, destructive, all-consuming. Buck’s teeth sink in his neck, pierce the skin when his blood flows faster and stronger, and suck, lick, kiss, drinking it all down. 

“Buck.” He grits out, digging his fingers in Buck’s hair and waist, holding him close. Buck’s hips stutter, grinding down on Eddie’s lap in a slow, circular motion. It’s dizzying, his heart is racing, his cock fills up and he fucks up against Buck’s ass. The feel of it, of Buck’s gasping against his neck, of the scent of blood, the taste of it, is too much, too dirty, filthy, it makes pleasure rush in his veins, and he wonders if Buck can taste it. 

“Buck, fuck, cariño.” He grits out, and Buck pulls back with a moan, his lips are smeared red, it sticks between his teeth, his eyes burn on Eddie’s soul like a brand. “On your knees.” 

Buck’s there in a second, on the floor between Eddie’s legs like he was made to be there. He leans over him, tugging harshly at his hair to tilt his face up. Buck’s eyes flutter close, and Eddie tuts.

“Look at me, Buck.” 

Buck does, eyes glossy and lost, his lips parted and red. He presses a finger on Buck’s bottom lip, presses until Buck’s mouth open, his throat bobs, Eddie presses two fingers on Buck’s tongue, watches the saliva leak down his chin and mix with the blood there, messy and sacrilegious, divine the way the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah was. 

“Pl’se.” Buck says, and Eddie nods. His hands are shaking as he undoes his pants, pulling out his cock, hard and leaking. He stands in front of Buck, stares down at him as he pushes inside Buck’s waiting mouth. 

“Christ.” Forgive me. “Buck.” 

(Breathe.) 

Buck moans around his dick, hands resting on Eddie’s thighs, over the bullet scar. He fucks inside Buck’s mouth, once, twice, Buck looks up at him with tears in his eyes as he pushes past the tight ring of his throat. Buck doesn’t gag, tears slide down his cheeks, and Eddie wipes them off with his thumb, licks at his fingers to taste the salt of them. 

He pulls back, letting Buck take a breath, before pushing in again. He fucks Buck’s mouth like he owns it, deep and harsh, he takes and takes and takes, and Buck lets him, never looking away. Pleasure twists in his guts, the taste of blood and salt on his tongue, wild and wicked. 

“Buck, your mouth, God.” He moans, gripping Buck’s hair so tightly that a few blond strands remain curled around his fingers. “You were made for this, amorcito, made for me.” 

Buck moans, he swallows and the pressure is heavenly, the heat burning, Buck’s tongue precise and expert against his cock, pulling gasps and moans out of him. 

He’s on the edge in minutes, it feels too good, and he’s too lost, his brain hazy. 

“Fuck, Buck, you’re gonna kill me.” He says, pulling back, holding his cock at the base to stave off his orgasm. He doesn’t want this to end.

Buck’s lips are red, shiny with spit.

“Please, Eddie.” He chokes out, breathless. “Please, I want you, I want it, I want you to fill me up.” 

He tugs at his hair, and Buck hisses, blinks, a tear rolls down his face, he’s still looking at Eddie, always. 

“Please.” Buck whispers. “Make me yours.” 

(Breathe, breathe, breathe, God-

He pushes inside Buck’s mouth again, heat burning in his veins. 

“You’re such a slut.” He hisses, and Buck moans, eyes wet. “You’re so desperate, amor. You wanna be mine?” 

Buck makes a series of sounds that Eddie takes as enthusiastic agreement, perfect and lovely and so fucked up. He pulls out and Buck whines. 

“Open up.” 

Buck does, tongue lolling out. Eddie wraps a hand around his own cock, jerks himself off quick and dirty, laughs at the desperation in Buck’s eyes. 

“Don’t swallow.” He chokes out, right as he comes on Buck’s tongue. It’s too much, it feels too good, some of it ends on Buck’s cheek, some of it down his throat, most of it lands on Buck’s tongue. “Hold it there.”
Buck looks completely blissed out, breathing hard and fast, and Eddie’s not doing any better, the afterglow settling over him. But he has things to do.

(Breathe.) 

He grabs the switchblade he keeps in his backpocket, and Buck’s eyes widen, he makes a sound, deep and broken, like it got ripped right out of his chest. 

“You are mine.” He says, and he really didn’t mean to. He wishes it were true. He drags the blade over the same cut on his wrist, restarting the bleeding. He holds it over Buck’s face, watches as a few droplets of blood fall on his tongue. Buck moans, and the image, this image, will forever haunt his mind. 

“Fuck, Buck.” 

Buck is openly crying now, sniffing softly, but he doesn’t swallow yet. 

Eddie spits on his tongue, and Buck sobs, hips fucking against nothing, cock still trapped in his jeans. 

“God.” 

He dips his fingers in the pool on Buck’s tongue, smears the mess on Buck’s cheek, white and red and pink. 

“Swallow.” He says and Buck does, eyes fluttering close for just a second. When Eddie kisses him, it tastes like perdition. 

“Eddie.” Buck begs. “Please.” 

And it’s too much, just then.

He pulls, and Buck comes, stumbling to his feet to follow after Eddie into the bedroom. 

He pushes Buck in the mattress, tugging at his shirt until he lifts his arms to take it off. Buck’s lips are stained red, his face is a mess, he looks ruined, he’s ruinous, beautiful the way natural disasters are, and it’s unfair that he looks like this, plucked right out of Eddie’s worst fantasies, cruel the way only Eddie’s christian God can be. 

He sucks at Buck’s neck, then lower over his collabones. He digs his fingers into Buck’s sides, against his ribs, feeling each ridge and bump of his body, every uneven scar, the curves and hard planes of him, all of his strength simmering below his skin. Buck moans and it echoes in his chest, feeding the demons there, trapped behind his ribcage. 

(Breathe.)

“Buck.” He exhales, and there is red on Buck’s body, traces of Eddie’s blood where the open cut on his wrist is still leaking slightly. He presses his fingers over the drops, presses it into Buck’s skin, over his heart. “You look so beautiful like this, Buck.” 

“Eddie.” Buck’s fingers are scrambling over his chest, and he looks lost, his eyes glossy. “Eddie, please. I need you.” 

(Breathe.)

He grabs the lube, pulls off Buck’s pants. 

He sinks his teeth in the soft flesh of Buck’s thigh, feeling the steady thrum of life right below his skin, and so he bites harder, canines piercing the skin. Buck screams, and Eddie laps greedily at the blood there. Buck tastes sweet, his blood is warm on Eddie’s tongue, and it shouldn’t be at all surprising that he loves this part of Buck too, but somehow it is. 

He licks at the bite until the blood coagulates, no longer dripping. Below him, Buck’s shaking, his cock is hard and flushed, leaking steadily from the tip, and Eddie’s mouth fills with saliva. 

He wraps his lips around Buck’s cock, sucks, hard, Buck whines, arching off the bed, and Eddie follows the sinful curve of his back with reverent fingers, digs his hands in Buck’s hips to hold him still while he sucks him off, and when that doesn’t work, he reaches above him to put two fingers in Buck’s mouth. 

Buck moans at that, sucking eagerly like Eddie’s doing to his cock, and they’re stuck in this vicious cycle, each one desperate to make the other feel good, ripping pleasure from each other’s bodies.
He pulls back when he feels Buck’s cock twitching in his mouth, and Buck moans, sobs, hips fucking up against nothing. 

“Be good, Buck.” He says, pressing a kiss on his hip. “Be good for me, amor.” 

“Yeah.” Buck whispers. “Yeah, I’ll be good, be so good for you, Eddie, Eds, please.” 

“Such a good boy.” He replies, just as quiet, leaving Buck’s cock alone to hover above his mouth instead. “Letting me mark you up, do you feel it, Buck?” Buck gasps, reaching out to kiss him, and so Eddie tugs at his hair to hold him down. “My blood inside you? I’m gonna fuck you so hard, Buck, gonna come inside you, and make you mine.” 

“Please.” 

He grabs the lube, squirts some on his hand, and he’s not gentle with it, with Buck. He plunges two fingers inside all at once, and Buck cries out, fingers scrambling for purchase over the blankets. Eddie doesn’t give him time to adjust, he fucks his fingers in and out of Buck quickly, forcing his body to make space. Buck writhes and whimpers on the bed, a litany of ‘Eddie’ and ‘please’ and ‘fuck’ falling from his lips. 

He looks at Buck’s hole, stretched around his fingers, red and puffy, lube dripping between his ass. He pushes a third finger in, too soon, Buck whimpers, begs, and Eddie doesn’t stop, rubbing his fingers against Buck’s prostate. 

Each moan that Buck lets out sends a jolt of pleasure down his spine, Buck’s eyes burn on his skin, he still hasn’t looked away, tears falling steadily down his cheeks, and Eddie can’t look away either, fixed on the mess on his face, that unholy mix of cum of and blood drying on his skin, the ugly bruise and crusted blood on Buck’s thigh, the smears of red of his chest. He’s hard again, painfully so. 

“I’m ready.” Buck gasps. “Eddie, please, I need you. I need you bad.” 

And he can’t take this anymore. It hurts too good, it feels too much. 

He doesn’t look for a condom, because afterall, he made Buck a promise.

(Breathe.)

He pushes inside Buck with a single thrust, burying himself deep inside him, and he wonders when, if ever, it’ll be close enough. 

(Like this, it almost feels like it.) 

He kisses Buck, licks the tears from his face, and Buck moans below him. 

“Eddie.” He gasps. “Eddie, let me get on top. I wanna ride you.” 

“God.” He begs, even though he knows they might as well have killed Him themselves. It certainly feels like it, a betrayal of the highest order, watching Buck climb on his lap. 

Like this, with his hair golden and blood on his mouth, Buck looks like an angel, vengeful and vicious and deathly. Buck looks at Eddie like he might eat him alive, and Eddie would let him, would slice his veins if Buck asked him to, would let Buck crack his ribcage wide open to take his heart right out of his chest, bloody and still beating.

(God knows it belongs to him anyway.)

(Breathe, breathe, please, you have to breathe-

Buck rolls his hips, smooth, elegant, muscles rippling below his skin, thighs flexing, and Eddie can’t breathe, can’t even remember if he ever could. 

“Eddie.” Buck’s hands are shaking on Eddie’s chest, his voice cracks horribly, and then it’s brutal. 

Buck lifts himself up and lets himself fall back down, impailing himself on Eddie’s cock, and then does it over and over and over-

(Breathe, God-

He grabs Buck’s waist, leaves behind finger-shaped bruises that he never wants to fade. He helps Buck move, watches eagerly, desperately, as sweat clings to Buck’s skin, as he uses Eddie’s body for his own pleasure. Buck’s moaning, loud and shameless, and it’s obscene, the way Buck’s tits bounce lightly, the way he moans Eddie’s name, the way his cock is leaking on Eddie’s stomach, all of it. 

The light hits him from behind, making his curls shine like a halo, his eyes are dark like the pits of Hell, and Eddie drowns in them, drunk on Buck’s blood and tears. He wants more, he wants all of it. He thinks Buck wants the same, leaning down to take Eddie’s hands and pudh them above his head.

“Eddie.” Buck whispers, his voice like velvet, sultry, full of lust. “Eddie, you feel so good.” 

“Buck.” He groans back, snapping his hips into the burning heat of Buck’s body, against his prostate. Buck shivers, moans, arches, he bends over to lick at Eddie’s neck.

“You taste so good.” Buck says, a whisper in his ear. 

Buck’s tongue reopens the bite on his neck, and Buck laps at it greedily, sucking and licking. When Eddie turns his face to kiss him, it tastes like copper, addicting and intoxicating, morphine on his crumbling psyche. 

(Breathe.) 

He bites Buck’s lip until he draws blood too, and it’s between them then, both his and Buck’s, a pagan promise, profane and heretical. 

“Eddie.” Buck breathes out, a prayer and a confession between them. “Fuck me harder, Eddie, fuck me like- make it hurt. I want it to hurt, Eddie.” 

(It already does, to him anyway.) 

(Breathe.)

Buck pulls back, gasping, when Eddie fucks up into his body. He arches his back, one hand coming to play with his nipple, and Eddie groans, watching him. Buck fucks himself on Eddie’s cock with a single-minded focus that threatens to send him over the edge in seconds. He wills himself to hold back, pressing one finger at Buck’s hole, along his cock, forcing it inside next to his dick. He pulls at Buck’s rim, and he whines, hands clenching and unclenching on Eddie’s chest. 

“Buck.” He grits out, grabbing Buck’s neck with his other hand to pull him closer. Buck gasps when his fingers squeeze around his throat, his hole clenches down on Eddie’s cock, his hips stutter.

“Eddie, please.” Buck gasps, cheeks red, and the beast inside him roars, bloodthirsty and violent. He slaps Buck right across the face, forcing Buck’s head to turn with the force of it. Buck moans, and comes all over himself.

(Breathe, Jesus Christ, breathe-

“Holy shit.” He moans, when Buck squeezes around his cock, and that’s finally enough to drag him over the edge too. He falls and falls and falls, spilling inside Buck’s body, marking him from the inside out. 

Buck collapses right on top of him, uncaring of the cum stuck between them on Eddie’s stomach. He’s shaking, still crying softly against the curve of Eddie’s neck. 

“Buck.” He says, sudden tears filling up his eyes too, for reasons he doesn’t understand. 

(Men don’t cry, son.)

He wraps his arms around Buck’s body, holding him close, closer, it never feels close enough, and he doesn’t think it ever will be, not with Buck, not when it’s like this.

(Breathe.)

“Buck.” He says again, willing his voice to hold steady. It cracks anyway. “Are- are you okay?” 

Buck shakes his head gently, soft lips pressing gentle kisses on his neck.

“I don’t know.” Buck whispers back. “Are you?” 

“I don’t know.” 

(Breathe.) 

Buck pulls back just enough to kiss him, and Eddie kisses back, of course he does. They kiss until they can’t breathe anymore, they kiss until it doesn’t taste like blood anymore. 

(Breathe.)

“C’mon.” He says. “We need a shower.” 

They don’t pull apart as they go in the bathroom, hands lingering, clinging to each other, unwilling to separate and desperate to stick together. They keep kissing and touching and holding under the water too, too afraid to pull apart and really look. 

They have to, of course. 

(Breathe.)

Buck does it first, always the bravest one between the two of them. He pulls back, and gasps, eyes welling up with tears again. 

“I- oh God, your neck, Eddie.” Buck chokes out, hands flailing around Eddie’s face. He grabs Eddie’s arm, where the biggest cut was. “A-a-and your- oh my- I’m- I’m so sorry, I don’t- I don’t know what- I-

“Buck.”
“I didn’t- I-

“Buck, breathe.” 

Buck does, sucking in a sharp inhale of oxygen. Eddie watches the fear cloud Buck’s eyes, and his heart clenches painfully. 

“It’s okay.” He says, even though he’s not sure it is. 

(How could it possibly be?)
(How can he ever go back to being normal, when he knows what Buck’s blood tastes like?) 

(Breathe.)

He cups Buck’s face with both his hands, holding him close, the water raining over both of them, washing away the sins of the flesh, but not the ones of the mind. 

“Buck, it’s okay.” He says again. “I- I liked it.”
“You- what? You did?”
“Was that in doubt?” He asks, and it rips a laugh out of Buck, hysterical and high-pitched, and then Eddie giggles too, just as insane. 

“God.”
“I- I know.” He replies, and he kisses Buck. “Fuck.”
“Fuck.” Buck agrees quietly. Buck’s eyes shine under the fluorescent light of the bathroom, holding entire galaxies. 

“You were- you were beautiful.” He whispers, a confession, Buck kisses him again.

“I liked it too.” Buck replies. “Too much.” 

“Me too.” 

(Breathe.)

“Let me clean you up.” Buck says, still quiet, like he’s also unwilling to pop the bubble around them. He nods. 

Buck washes his hair. 

He’s gentle with Eddie, delicate fingers brush through his hair, shampoo first and conditioner later, Buck massages his fingers into his scalp, and he feels boneless, slumping against Buck’s chest. Buck doesn’t waver under his weight, steady and solid.

Buck’s fingers are careful, as they wash the blood and saliva and cum from Eddie’s chest, cleaning all the open cuts, attentive to not let any soap go in them, so it won’t hurt Eddie. They watch the pinkish water go down the drain, and he quietly mourns the loss of it, the insanity of what just happened, and he silently prays it’ll happen again, some day. 

(Breathe.)

Buck presses kisses over the ugly bruise on Eddie’s neck, the imprint of Buck’s teeth sealed into his body, and he does the same. He kneels in the shower, under the warm water and under Buck’s heavy gaze, and he presses his lips on the bite on Buck’s inner thigh.

Buck gasps, and Eddie watches him as water rolls down Buck’s chest, cleaning away the remnants of Eddie’s blood on his body. He runs both hands over Buck’s legs, around his waist, sucking fresh bruises on Buck’s hips as he dips his hands lower, between Buck’s ass.

“Eddie.” Buck moans quietly, leaning back against the tiles, they must be cold, because Buck shivers, and Eddie feels it against his tongue. 

“Buck.” He says, just as quietly, as he cleans the cum from Buck’s hole. Buck’s cock is hard again, and so he swallows it down, drunk on Buck’s taste. 

“Oh fuck.” Buck gasps, fingers curling gently in Eddie’s hair. “Fuck, Eddie.”
It’s softer, slower. Eddie sucks him off, trying to not be too harsh on Buck’s sensitive cock, he wants it to be good for Buck, he wants Buck to keep looking at him like that, adoration and veneration in his eyes. He kneels at Buck’s feet like a praying man at the altar, and Buck moans quietly all the way through, until he spills down Eddie’s throat with his name caught between his teeth. 

“Eddie.” 

He swallows it all down greedily, the monster in chest satiated, for now. 

(Eddie knows it’ll wake up again, he’s tried to keep it down all his life, and he’s only ever failed.) 

(When he and Buck first kissed, he knew then he’d never be able to make it quiet again.) 

(Breathe.) 

When they get out of the shower, they get dressed in loose pants and shirts, Buck takes his hand and guides him back to the couch. 

“Sit.” He says again, and Eddie does. 

Buck patches up the bite on his neck, and the deep slash on his wrist, clean gauze stained with red droplets. 

“All done.” Buck whispers. 

It’s late, by now. It’s dark in the house and outside, and soon they’ll have to go pick up Chris from a study date. 

(Breathe.)

Buck sits next to him, and something feels off, something’s not right, and he can’t quite put his fingers on it. The space between them feels too big.

“Tired?” He asks Buck, because he’s always sleepy after, remnants of subspace pulling at his mind. He feels like that too, today, brain hazy, foggy. 

Buck hums.

“Yeah.” Buck looks at him. “Can we take a nap?”
“Yeah.” 

(It should be riddled with jokes, littered with playful looks and teasing, that’s how it normally is.)

(Normally, Buck naps on the couch, and Eddie back in his bed.) 

Today, Buck takes his hand and pulls. Eddie follows. 

The bed’s messy and unmade, but not dirty, strictly speaking, and so they just lay down, under the blanket. 

And normally, he wouldn’t do this, but he feels so out of it, so untethered, and Buck’s always been his rock, the eye of the storm.

“Come here.” He says, but he didn’t have to, because Buck’s already there. Eddie wraps himself around him, chest to back, Buck’s hand closes around his wrist, he seems to melt against Eddie’s chest, and this feels good. Now, it’s good.

Buck puts an alarm on his phone, for when they have to pick up Chris, and that’s that. Eddie holds him, and closes his eyes.

(Breathe.)

He’s half-way asleep, when Buck’s voice pulls him back from the land of the dreams. 

“Eddie?”
“Mh?”
“Do you- do you remember when you got shot?” 

(Breathe.)

“Hard to forget.” 

Buck hums in return, squeezing his wrist. 

“Your blood got on me, then.” Buck says, voice rough and raw. 

(“Are you hurt?”)

“I remember.”

“It got in my mouth.” 

“Is that- is that what happened today?”
“I- you fell from the ladder and I heard the sound and f-for a second I thought- I needed to feel you.” Buck exhales, shaky, unsteady. “Make sure you were really- really alive.”
“I am.” He says, voice catching. He exhales too, just as shaky. “I- I get it, you know? After- after the lighting, I- sometimes I just need to make sure you’re still here.”
Buck turns in his arms, and Eddie’s body moves of its own volition, cupping Buck’s face and swiping a thumb over his lips, under his eye. 

Buck kisses him, and Eddie lets him.

“So we’re okay?” Buck asks, hesitant and unsure, and Eddie nods, holding him tighter. 

“Yeah, we’re okay.” 

“Sorry I hurt you.” 

“I hurt you all the time.” He says, and Buck’s lips quirk up in a smile. “And I already told you I liked it. I would’ve told you if I didn’t.” 

“You’re a freak.”
“Yeah, okay.” He laughs quietly, pointing at Buck, and then himself. “Pot, kettle.” 

Buck’s smile could start wars, bring gods to their knees, make kings beg. 

(Breathe, God, breathe.) 

He smiles back too, and steals one more kiss from Buck. Always one more. 

(Gluttony and greed and lust.) 

(Breathe.)

“Sleep now.” Eddie says. “We gotta be up in…in?”
“30 minutes.”
“God, fuck.” He bumps his forehead against Buck’s, and Buck smiles, laugh. “30 minutes.” 

Buck laughs again, pushing until Eddie lays on his back. He tucks himself against Eddie’s side, and it’s truly a miracle, incomprehensible, the way such a tall guy can make himself so small, fitted perfectly against Eddie’s own jagged edges. It doesn’t matter, it can’t matter.

(Breathe.) 

He falls asleep listening to Buck’s regular breathing. 

Chapter Text

[Call me babydoll

Too cold, it's withdrawal

This house ain't a home]

The thing is, it’s not new. Not by a long shot. 

(Breathe.)

In a rational, logical way, he’s known for years, how family and Buck sound exactly the same, despite not having the same amount of letters. Still, somehow, today, it hits him like a freight train. 

(Breathe.)

It’s been a good day. 

***

Eddie wakes up organically, to soft sunlight shining through the window in their bedroom. He knows it must still be early because the alarm hasn’t gone off yet. He doesn’t open his eyes, sinking deeper in the warmth around him, below him.

Buck is still sleeping, he knows that because his chest is rising and falling regularly below Eddie’s cheek. One of Buck’s arms is over his shoulder, hand resting on his hip, their legs tangled below the blanket. 

Buck’s shirt has ridden up through the night, and Eddie brushes his fingers on the sliver of skin it exposed, through Buck’s happy trail and the tattoos peeking out. Buck smells like laundry detergent and smoke, and Eddie thinks, not for the first time, how appropriate it is that Buck smells like fire, flames burning bright below his skin, a line of heat against Eddie’s body.

(Breathe.) 

When the alarm goes off he finally opens his eyes. Below him, Buck groans and shifts, one arm reaching out blindly to turn it off. He smiles, can’t help it, not in front of Buck’s disgruntled face. 

(He looks beautiful in the morning.)

The sunlight is delicate, it catches in the brilliant blue of Buck’s eyes, it washes his body in soft yellows and warm blues, it makes Buck’s lips shine bright pink, matching the birthmark above his eyes. Below him, the sun frames his hair like halo, golden and angelic, sinful with the way he pulls Eddie close, closer, always a bit more, never enough, not for Buck. 

“Mornin’.” Buck mumbles, voice deep and rough with sleep, and it makes Eddie’s blood turn to liquid fire. 

“Hey.” He says back, and in a different life, one where a cross doesn’t appear behind his eyelids every time he blinks, one where he’s not such a coward, a better life, he could reach up and kiss him good morning.

(Breathe.)

In this life, Buck gets up, stretches, and pads quietly down the hallways, probably to make breakfast. In this life, Eddie watches him go and doesn’t reach out. In this life, he keeps his hand on Buck’s side of the bed until the mattress has gone cold, until the fire in his blood is extinguished, and then, finally, he gets up too. In this life, Buck’s already made him a cup of coffee, with milk and the caramel syrup he never told Buck he likes. 

(It’s not so bad, this life.) 

(Breathe.) 

“What do you guys wanna do today?” Buck asks, flipping bacon and pancakes on the stove. It’s Saturday, just past 10am, and Chris has just rolled out of bed, pajamas hanging loose on his body. 

“Is that my shirt?” He asks, and Chris looks down at himself, shakes his head.

“Nope.” He answers, and Eddie scoffs. 

“Alright, firefighter Diaz, you better not wear that outside, or they’ll start asking you to pick up kittens from trees.” He says, and Chris snorts, Buck laughs. 

“Is that all you do at work?” Chris asks, and Buck nods, settling a plate of pancakes in front of Chris, ruffling his hair with one hand before going back to the stove. Chris swats his hand away, but when he digs into the food he groans, and Eddie doesn’t miss the pleased smile on Buck’s face. 

“Pretty much.” He finally replies. “And Buck asked you a question.” 

“I don’t know.” Chris says around a mouthful of food. 

“Chris!” Buck complains. “Don’t talk and chew, c’mon, man. I know you know that.” 

Chris finishes chewing and audibly swallows. 

“I don’t know.” He repeats, all sass, and Buck rolls his eyes. “I’m going to the movies later.” 

“What? With who? To watch what?”
“Kyle.”
“Who is Kyle?” Buck asks, exasperated, and it’s funnier than it should be. He hides his grin behind his mug. Chris rolls his eyes.

“A friend.”
“Oh, okay, great, thank you so much, Chris, I would have never guessed that.”
“Oh my God.” Chris grumbles. “He’s in my math class. His mom said she could take us out for a sleepover after.” 

Buck opens his mouth, then frowns, and looks over at Eddie. He just smiles, shrugging to Buck’s mute question. 

(It’s not like Buck needs his permission to make plans with Chris.) 

(He hasn’t in a long time.) 

“Okay, fine. Do you need a ride?”
“Yeah, to the mall, and I guess tomorrow morning.”
“You got it, Superman.” Buck finally says, and the next second there’s a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of Eddie. 

“Thanks, Buck.” He and Chris say simultaneously. Eddie smiles at his kid, and then looks up to see the faint blush on Buck’s cheek, the way he turns back to the stove to finally cook his own breakfast. 

(In another life, he’d get up and wrap his arms around Buck’s waist, press himself against his back to watch him cook.)

In this life, Chris’ eyes are narrowed at him, his lips parted in confusion, or suspicion, Eddie can’t quite tell. It makes him look away in any case, like he just got caught doing something he’s not supposed to be doing. 

“Besides Chris’ insane social life, do you guys want to do something before the movies?” Buck asks, flipping another pancake. “I saw the zoo renovated the penguin enclosure, we could go to check it out.”
“That’s for kids!” Chris immediately complains, and Buck shoots him an amused glance.

“I also saw that they got Tasmanian devils back after five years.” Buck continues, like Chris didn’t say anything. “Remember when we saw them the first time?”
“Oh, yeah.” Chris says, looking up at Buck. “They were cute.”
“Exactly.” Buck sounds like he’s won already, finally sitting down at the table between them. Below the surface, their knees bump together, and Eddie doesn’t move, only presses in instead. Buck smiles at him, eyes so impossibly blue. 

“Okay.” Chris says in the end.  

“Am I invited?” Eddie asks, teasing, and Buck’s smile widens. “Or do you guys not want me around?”

“You’re always invited.” Buck says, and it’s meant to be just as teasing, Eddie knows it is, but Buck’s voice is just a bit too soft, his eyes just a bit too honest, and his words sound just a bit too much like you’re always wanted. 

(It makes his heart race, his skin burning where their legs are touching.)

(Breathe.)

“Ugh, you guys are insufferable.” Chris says, forcefully stabbing a pancake. “When do we leave?”
Buck blinks, Eddie can physically see him buffering. 

“Uh, I- I guess as soon as we’re done here?” 

“Great.” 

And so off they go. 

(Breathe.)

Buck drives them all to the zoo, and they argue about music all the way there. 

Inside, Buck and Chris walk several paces ahead of him, so immersed in their own conversation that they don’t even notice that Eddie stayed behind a bit. He doesn’t mind. 

He likes to watch them together. 

He likes to see Buck lean over to talk closer to Chris’ ears without having to shout over the noise of the crowd and animals. It doesn’t really work, Buck’s volume tends to go up when he’s excited, and few things make him happier than taking Chris to the zoo. 

He likes to watch Chris lean on Buck when he gets too tired to keep walking, easy, because he knows Buck will hold him up. And Buck always does. He likes to see how their conversation never stops, an endless back and forth of ‘did you know that-’ and ‘and what about-’.

He doesn’t mind at all, except that at some point Buck turns to his other side and finds it empty, and Eddie gets to watch him frown, looking around for Eddie with confusion painted all over his pretty face. When his eyes do find him, Buck smiles, wide and happy and bright, and somehow, Eddie likes that even more.

“Eddie, c’mon.” Buck says. “We’ve really gotta get a move on if we want to see the tigers too.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” 

Buck knocks their shoulders together when he’s reached them, and Eddie’s traitorous heart almost stops entirely. He remembers when Chris was little and they used to do this every other weekend. He remembers Buck picking Chris up like he weighted nothing, throwing him over his shoulder to make him laugh. Chris is too old now, barely wants to hang out with them anymore, let alone be picked up, but Eddie remembers that.

(He remembers it too well, and he thinks that Buck’s always looked best with a kid in his arms, and if they had another, a small child, then Buck would have someone to go to the zoo with him again and that’s-

That’s fucking insane. 

(And he’s not thinking about Buck, coming all over his hands and stomach when Eddie was fucking his own cum back inside Buck’s hole days ago, when Eddie told him that he’ll make sure it catches, make sure-

He stops dead in his tracks.

(Breathe.) 

“You okay?” Buck asks, eyes wide and cheeks pink from the sun, and Eddie feels fucking insane, his brain running a mile a minute, pictures that are most definitely not appropriate for a family outing flashing in front of his eyes. 

(Family, family, they’re a family, Jesus Christ, Buck and Eddie and Chris and the imaginary baby, God, he’s losing it-

He’s also half-hard. 

(This is a fucking nightmare, it’s the worse thing that's ever happened to him, and he got shot, three times in fact, and somehow, this is worse-

“Hey, Earth to Eddie.” Buck snaps his fingers in front of his face and Eddie blinks himself back into reality. “You good, man?” 

Buck has a hand on his shoulder, leaning in to stare at him closely. Behind him, Chris is also staring at him with a frown.

“Dad?”
“Yeah.” He chokes out in the end. “Yep, all good, all- good.” 

Buck squeezes his shoulder, once, lets go. 

“Alright, c’mon.” 

(Breathe.) 

They eat overpriced sandwiches at the zoo, and then Buck drives them straight to the mall, where the movie theater is. They all go inside, and drop Chris off at the entrance. 

“I’ll come to pick you up tomorrow, yeah? Text me the time.”
“Sure thing. Thanks Buck.” 

“Bye Chris.” He and Buck say in chorus. They wait until they see Chris meet up with a kid who is presumably Kyle. 

“Man, he’s gotta be the most popular kid in that school.” Buck says, and Eddie nods.

“Yeah, definitely.” He agrees easily, and Buck starts the car again. 

“I don’t know where he gets it from.” Buck says, glancing at him with a smile. “Certanly not from you.” 

“Hey, I was popular.”
“Yeah, right. You know, your Aunt Pepa and Abuela told me you had exactly one friend. Shannon.” 

He can’t help the laugh that escapes him, because, really, it’s true. Buck smiles too. 

“Can’t believe they’d say that of their own flesh and blood.” He scoffs. “And I’m pretty sure he gets it from you, all those stories about the football team, and the frat bros, or whatever it is you’re always telling him about.” 

Buck’s blushing again, and it takes him a second to realize what he’s said, what he’s implied. 

(Jesus Christ, what is wrong with him?) 

(Breathe.)

Buck clears his throat.

“Right.” He says, laughing quietly, cheeks still pink and eyes bright. “You wanna take a look around? We can grab something for dinner while we’re here.” 

“Sure thing. Are we looking for anything in particular?”
“I promised Jee I’d get her a new Barbie.”
“You spoil her too much.”
“I’m her uncle! It’s in the job description.” 

(And it’s back again, the vision of Buck with a child that’s somehow, impossibly, theirs.)

(And so it’s the semi.)

(God, he’s gonna die in this mall.) 

(Breathe.)

“Yeah- yeah, no problem.” 

Buck makes a straight beeline towards a kid’s shop, and then they spend an ungodly amount of time trying to decide which doll Jee would like more.

“I’m pretty sure she’s gonna be happy either way.” He says. And maybe it’s because he raised a boy obsessed with dinosaurs and fire trucks, but to him, the dolls look nearly identical. 

“But which one would make her happier?” Buck asks, like he’s being dumb on purpose. He’s really not, he just can’t quite focus. Buck glances at him, a frown on his pretty face. “Hey, what’s wrong with you? You’re being weird.”
“I’m not being weird.” He says, weirdly. “You’re the one taking forever here.” 

“It’s an important choice!”
“Oh my God, fine.” 

With an herculean effort, he finally turns his attention away from Buck and to the row of toys in front of them. One of the dolls is a doctor, the other is a lawyer. They both come with little accessories and an outfit change. He picks up the doctor one.

“Here, take this one.” He says, handing it to Buck. “You can say it’s almost what Chim does.” 

Buck beams at him, eyes soft and warm, and Eddie’s insides turn to slushie. God. 

“Thank you.” Buck says, and suddenly his face feels hot. Buck’s eyes turn darker, his smile sharper, he looks at Eddie from under blond lashes. “Couldn’t have done it without you.” 

(Buck is trying to kill him.)

“Y-yeah, no problem, no…problem at all.”
(Breathe.)

Buck pays for the doll, has the cashier box it up with a fancy bow. 

They stop for pretzels at the food court, and talk while they eat, their ankles crossed under the table. He’s fine with it, normal about it. He’s been completely normal this entire day, nothing to see.

What he’s most definitely not normal about, is the pause in Buck’s monologue about the production of sugar when they pass by a lingerie store. 

“What was that?” He asks, and Buck blinks at him, cheeks tinged a pretty pink.

“What was what?” 

“You paused.” 

“I didn’t.”
“You did!” 

And Buck, bless him, he’s a terrible liar. His face always gives him away. This time it’s his eyes, jumping back to the same store. 

(Sudden, violent heat pools in his guts, his brain making a horrible screeching sound as it halts to an abrupt stop.)

(Breathe.)

“Is it that store?” He asks, a little breathless, and Buck’s blush intensifies, pretty and pink, it makes his eyes pop. 

“No.”

“Liar.” 

“Eddie.” Buck says, sounding awfully close to whining. “Can you just drop it please?” 

(Breathe.)

Buck looks so embarrassed just then. 

(And maybe he needs to approach this a little more carefully.) 

(Breathe.)

“Do you want to go inside?” He asks, willing his voice to hold steady. “We can just take a look, we don’t have to get anything.” 

Buck’s eyes burn on his skin.

“We?” 

“If it’s something you want to…try, then I’ll come with you.”

Buck’s eyes are wide, his hands twitch next to him, and the blush spreads wider, reaching his ears and down his neck. 

“Okay.” Buck breathes out. Eddie smiles at him, itching to take his hand and pull him close, kiss him in the middle of this busy mall, let everyone know that Buck’s his. 

(Breathe.)

“C’mon, then.” 

The store is almost empty, only another girl walking around. It’s getting fairly late after all, the mall closing up soon. It’s probably best this way, to do this with as few people around as possible. He watches.

Buck’s eyes glimmer, catching in the low light of the store. He walks through the stands with a curious expression on his face, the same expression that Eddie’s seen when Buck is watching a new documentary, or reading a new wikipedia article, or listening to Chris talk. 

(It’s cute, and endearing, and he feels a little crazy about it, about Buck.) 

(Breathe.)

“See anything you like?” He asks eventually, and Buck’s eyes snap up to his. It seems that after the initial shock, Buck’s cocky confidence is back, because he smiles at Eddie with dark eyes, heavy with want, Eddie can see it all over his face.

“Do you?” 

“I do.” He replies, forcefully dragging his eyes away from Buck and towards the employee walking around. “Excuse us, can you help us please?”
The girl is young, and she smiles at them, nodding.

“Sure thing, looking for anything in particular?” 

Eddie smiles.

“Can you please show us everything you have in his size?”
The girl looks over to Buck, and Eddie does too, gets to watch Buck blush furiously, stuttering a little. 

“I- it’s, uhm, for- yeah-

The girl smiles, her tag reads Janine. 

“Don’t worry about it.” She says. “Come with me, so we can measure you up and get you something that fits right.”
“Al-alright.” Buck stutters out, and then he and Janine are gone, disappeared behind a red curtain in the back. He grins to himself, blood thrumming with excitement. 

He walks around as he waits, looking over the different sets displayed on the mannequins. There’s one that keeps catching his eyes. It’s pale blue, a bralette and panties in soft lace, flowery, with little bows, it’s feminine, and delicate and elegant. He hopes they have it in Buck’s size. He hopes Buck likes it too.

It takes an eternity for Buck and Janine to re-emerge from wherever they went, so much so that the mall has already started closing down around them, the other shops shutting down for the night. Chris texts him to let him know that Kyle’s mom came to pick them up, and they’re stopping for pizza on the way home. He holds Jee’s doll and waits. 

(Breathe.)

He finds that he can’t. 

Buck comes out smiling, wild and crooked, his eyes finding Eddie as soon as he reappears. He’s wearing his clothes, of course, but Eddie can see a little pile of colorful lace and satin in Janine’s hands, as she takes it to the register. 

“Found something?” He asks, and Buck nods.

“I think so.” He replies, eyes dropping to Eddie’s lips. “Maybe I’ll show you later.” 

He reaches out, placing a hand on the small of Buck’s back, feels him shiver under his touch. 

“Can’t wait to see it.” He replies, and he feels Buck’s warm breath on his mouth, they’re standing so close. Janine clears her throat then, a smile still playing on her lips, amused. Eddie pulls back, not a lot, just enough. “Go wait outside.”
“I have to pay.” Buck says, reaching out for his wallet, and he shakes his head.

“Go wait outside, cariño.” 

Buck’s eyes blow dark, his lips part, like maybe he’s going to lean in and kiss him all the same. He doesn’t, nodding minutely instead, and then he’s turning around and walking right out of the store. Eddie watches him go a moment too long, before finally heading over to Janine. 

She’s already scanned and packed the items, placed them inside a pink bag that’s closed up with another little pink bow. 

“Cash or card?” She asks, and Eddie pulls out his wallet, barely looking over the total. His eyes catch on something else, however, and he hands Janine the products. 

“Can you add these too, please?” 

“Of course.” She replies, scanning the black mascara and red lipstick he gave her.

“Card.” He says then, and he can’t quite look away from the bag, he’s dying to look inside it. 

Janine hands him the receipt, and he crumples it in his pocket, picks up the bag. 

“You’re such a lovely couple.” She says, smiling bright. “Have a goodnight.”
(Breathe.)

“We’re not- we’re- 

He cuts himself off, Janine’s eyes go wide. 

“Oh.” She says, much quieter. “Sorry, I didn’t mean- it’s just the way he talks about you, and your kid, I thought- nevermind. So sorry.” 

“No, no, it’s- he talked about me?” 

She laughs, surprised.

“Oh, yeah. The entire time.”
“And my kid?”
“I thought he was both your kid.” 

“I- well. He kind of is.” Janine blinks, clearly confused, but Eddie doesn’t elaborate further. “Thank you, though. Bye.”
“Bye.” Janine echoes quietly, and Eddie hightails out of there before he can embarrass himself any further.

(Breathe.)

Outside of the store, Buck is waiting with his hands in his pockets. He lights up like a damn Christman tree when he spots Eddie, and it makes his heart do backflips in his chest. He smiles back, powerless to do anything else when looking at Buck.

He places his hand on the same spot as before, right above the curve of Buck’s ass, pushing him along. Buck lets him.

“Let’s go.” 

“Someone’s excited to go home.” 

“Shut up.” 

Buck grins. 

(Breathe.)

***

Eddie stares at the ceiling. His blood is buzzing, chest tight with that monster that Buck seems to awaken in him every time they’re in close proximity. 

“Buck?” He calls for what feels like the millionth time but is maybe the fourth. “You good?” 

“Yeah!” Buck replies. “Almost done.” 

The door to the bathroom is, however, still firmly shut. Behind it, he can hear Buck clutter around. And so he’s impatient, sue him. He thinks he can be excused, given the circumstances. 

(Breathe.)

He turned off all the lights in the house, and even lit a bunch of candles instead. It is firmly not a fire hazard, he made sure of it, thank you very much. 

The soft lighting washes the room in a warm glow, golds and reds dancing on the walls of their bedroom. 

“Ready?” Buck calls eventually, and Eddie straightens up, sitting on the edge of the bed with his dick at half mast already. He swallows, forces himself to breathe.

“Yeah.” He calls back, and the door cracks open.

(Breathe, fucking breathe-

Buck’s is breathtaking. 

“Jesus.” He whispers, letting his eyes travel up and down Buck’s body. Buck smiles, leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom, lips curved in a teasing smile. 

“Good?” Buck asks, and Eddie’s throat is as dry as sandpaper. 

“Buck, you look-

Buck’s wearing the same lingerie set he saw at the shop. 

(Breathe.)

Pastel blue hugs the curves of his body, the hard planes of his chest. The bralette looks impossibly right, flowery lace wrapped around Buck’s pecs, squeezing his chest together as if they were tits. Eddie follows the bow at the center of the bralette down along Buck’s happy trail disappearing under lacy panties, rising high on Buck’s hips, they seem barely big enough to hold Buck’s cock, peeking from the top. And down, down, down Eddie’s eyes go, where the panties are clasped to the top of thigh-highs in the same pale blue, stretched over Buck’s thick thighs, it seems impossible that they fit, but somehow they do, all over Buck’s long legs. And then up and up and higher, Eddie’s eyes snag on the cocky smile on Buck’s face, and finally on his blue eyes, brighter than normal, if at all possible, a perfect match to all the lace and satin on his body, framed by dark lashes, longer than they should be, smudged mascara just below his left eye, his lips a painted a sinful red. 

(Breathe, breathe, breathe, Jesus, Eddie, breathe-

“Beautiful.” He says in the end, and Buck’s cheeks are flushed, his chest rises and falls quickly, his cock is hard. 

“So you like it?” Buck asks, breathless, and Eddie nods. 

“More, amorcito.” Eddie whispers, unable to stop looking, drinking in the sight. He holds out his hand, and Buck takes it, stepping closer, standing between Eddie’s legs. “Lo adoro… ¿cómo no hacerlo, si te ves así?” 

Buck’s breathing stutters, his hands fall on Eddie’s shoulders, squeeze.

“Eddie.” He whispers. “The- the makeup was a nice touch.” 

“It was.” He agrees quietly, leaning in to press a kiss at the center of Buck’s stomach, then lower on his hip. He places his hands at Buck’s side, dips two fingers under the elastic of the panties, pulls it and lets it go, making it snap against Buck’s skin. Above him, Buck exhales, sighs, his hands curl in Eddie’s hair. 

“You look so beautiful, cariño.” He whispers again, an exhale against Buck’s skin. 

He runs his hands across Buck’s waist, behind him to follow the edge of the panties where it disappears between Buck’s ass. He squeezes there, and Buck groans, and so Eddie keeps going, lower over Buck’s long legs, fingers tripping over the edge of the thighs. 

“Dios, Buck.” 

“Eddie.” Buck says, pulling at his hair until Eddie tilts his head up to look at him. “Eddie, come here.” 

(Breathe.)

(It seems impossible, when there’s no more oxygen in the room.)

(Breathe.)

He stands, heart racing and cock hard. He holds Buck close, gripping tightly at his waist. Buck arches under his fingers, and Eddie reaches up to kiss him, wet and bruising and hungry. It sends electricity running down his spine, the ground shakes below them. Eddie holds him closer. 

(Breathe.)

“Buck.” He grits out, something dark and violent twisting in his chest, he digs his fingers in Buck’s body, hard enough to leave bruises, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine- “You look so pretty, baby.” 

Buck shivers, and Eddie smiles, sharp and possessive. 

“You like that, baby?” He asks, and Buck nods, eyes glossy and lips a sinful red, the lipstick already smudged. “You wanna be my pretty girl for the night? Wanna be my good girl?” 

“Christ, Eddie.” Buck whines, and when Eddie pushes, Buck goes, he always does, dropping to the floor without ever looking away. 

The sight threatens to make him pass out, with how fast all his blood rushes south. 

“Fuck, baby.” He exhales. “You look so good on your knees, princesa, so pretty.” 

“God, Eddie, please.” 

“Begging, already?” Eddie asks, venom dripping in his voice, and Buck’s hips fuck into nothing, chasing non-existent friction. 

He smiles, reaching down to caress Buck’s cheek, pressing a thumb over his lips. Buck’s mouth parts immediately under the pressure, sucking Eddie’s thumb inside, lipstick sticking to his skin where Buck’s lips close around it. Buck moans quietly, and Eddie buries his other hand in Buck’s curls, tugging until Buck’s head snaps back, tongue lolling out. 

“Joder, amor.” He whispers, pulling out his thumb and replacing it with two of his fingers. Buck’s eyes water when he pushes in, deep until he hits the back on Buck’s throat. Buck gags quietly, saliva dripping down his chin. 

“Say it, baby.” He says, voice low. “Say you wanna be my good girl.” 

“Ed’ie.” Buck garbles, eyes glossy and shiny. He pulls his fingers back just enough to let Buck talk. “Wanna be yours.” Buck chokes out. “Wanna be your good- good girl, please, Eddie, please.” 

“Christ.” 

He undoes his pants as quickly as humanly possible. 

“Put your hands behind your back, let me use that pretty mouth of yours, sweetheart.” 

Buck does, ever eager to please, and Eddie smiles down at him. He pulls out his cock, giving it a firm stroke before guiding towards Buck’s mouth. It’s sinful, Buck’s red lips stretched wide to accommodate the length. He pushes all the way in, making Buck’s gag and shiver below him, and he drinks in it, drunk on the little moans Buck makes. 

He fucks Buck’s mouth quickly, rough, he takes and takes and takes and Buck lets him, pliant and malleable under his hand. He holds Buck’s hair tight enough to hurt, to keep his head still, so he can fuck down his throat until Buck’s nose is pressed against him. Buck doesn’t try to pull back. 

When the first tear falls, Eddie has to focus to not come right then and there.

(Breathe.)

“Jesus, Buck, princesa, you’re so fucking pretty like this.” He chokes out, slowing down a little and letting Buck come up for air, just for a second, before pushing him down on his cock again. “You look so good on your knees for me, so pretty in your panties and bra, querida, the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” 

It’s wrong, depraved, the way Buck’s lipstick smudges to the side, down his chin, spit dripping down his chest. It’s unholy, vulgar, the way his mascara melts down his cheeks along with his tears, making his eyes that much more blue. It’s obscene, pornographic, profane, and Eddie’s so hard he thinks he might die, Buck’s mouth feels like heaven around his cock, wet and velvety and hot, burning like the flames of Hell. 

(Breathe.)

He pulls Buck off his cock when he feels too close to the edge, and Buck is panting, breathing hard, lust clouding his eyes. 

“Eddie.” He chokes out, voice rough and fucked out, and pleasure burns through him like liquid fire. “Eddie, please.”
“Such a good girl.” Eddie says, reverence dripping in his voice. He pulls at Buck’s bottom lip, smearing lipstick and saliva across his face. “You look like such a whore.” 

Buck whimpers, eyes fluttering close for a second, tears clinging to his lashes. Eddie smiles, cock twitching. 

“Such a good slut for me, baby, you’re just desperate for it, aren’t you, for my cock?” 

Buck nods, pouting a little, and Eddie feels feral. 

“Fuck, you’d do anthing for cock, my cock, wouldn’t you, princesa?”
“Yeah.” Buck exhales, nodding. “Yeah, yeah, Eddie, please, I’ll do anything, anything you want, please, I want it, I want it so bad.” 

“Mh, I know, querida.” He pulls back. “Stand up.” 

He doesn’t help Buck stand, watching him stumble on his feet, the thighs ripped at his knees, where they got caught in the hardwood floors. Buck’s knees are red, they’re going to bruise. 

(Breathe.)

“Stay there, turn around.”
Buck does, and Eddie presses his lips to his shoulder as he goes to the closet, digging through it until he finds the rope. It’s black, soft like butter. 

“You know your colors?” He asks like he always does, and like always, Buck nods, eyes fluttering close. “Answer me, Buck.”
“Yeah, yeah, Eddie. I’m good.” He whispers, and so Eddie nods, and gets to work. 

(Breathe.)

He starts with a box tie, placing Buck’s forearms one on top of the other, he runs the rope across his shoulders and around his wrists and around his chest, framing the bralette, squeezing his pecs together, enhancing them further. 

“God, you have such gorgeous tits, baby.” He says, and Buck groans quietly, moaning when Eddie pinches one of his nipples, then twists it harshly. “You like having your tits played with, baby?” 

“Yeah.” Buck breathes out, eyes fluttering closed, and Eddie smiles, humming quietly. 

He loops the same rope around his neck, twice, ties down to his wrists. 

“Give it a tug for me, sweetheart?” He asks, and Buck does, and his breath catches when the rope tightens around his neck. 

“Christ, Eddie.” 

He spins Buck around so he can look at him, dipping to a finger under the rope on his neck. 

“Not too tight?” Buck shakes his head, lips still parted. 

“No.” He exhales. “It’s perfect.” 

Eddie grins, cups his face to drag him in a kiss, filthy and messy and possessive. Buck pulls back to press his lips against Eddie’s neck, sucking a hickey over his pulse point, and Eddie groans when Buck pulls back and he catches traces of lipstick on his own skin. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, princesa.” He says, and Buck smiles, loopy and soft and so, so pretty. “Where’s the lipstick?” 

“Mh?”
“The lipstick, baby.” He repeats, closing his hand over the rope around Buck’s neck, squeezing gently. “God, you go down so fast, amorcito.” He says, leaning in to lick into Buck’s mouth again, taking the lipstick right from Buck’s lips. “Got some cock and you’re already so dumb with it.” 

“Eddie.” Buck whines, melting into Eddie’s body, the grip around his throat. “‘m not dumb.”
He smiles, indulgent, presses one more kiss on his lips.

“No, ‘course not, princesa. Where’s your lipstick?”
“Sink.” Buck finally answers, and Eddie leaves him there long enough to go retrieve the damn thing. He stands in front of Buck, popping it open and pressing it to Buck’s lips again. Buck’s mouth opens and Eddie drags the red color across his lips, refreshing it. He smiles.

“There you go, sweetheart, all done up again.” 

Buck smiles, blinding, it’s like a direct stab to Eddie’s heart. 

(Breathe.) 

“Turn around.” He whispers, and Buck does, and Eddie helps him on the bed. He pushes and Buck falls with a yelp, face pressed on the mattress, mascara and lipstick leaving damning marks on the white blankets. 

“Fuck.” Buck chokes out when he pulls at the rope, cutting off his own breathing. Eddie grins. 

“On your knees, sweetheart, let me see what’s mine.” 

Buck whines, high in his throat, but does as he’s told, back arched in a sinful curve, Eddie follows along it with adoring fingers. The panties are stretched thin over Buck’s ass, pale skin caught between them and the thighs, Eddie presses one hand over his ass, kneads in the flesh there, and then leans down to sink his teeth in. 

Buck yelps again, groans, sinks in the pain of it, and when Eddie pulls back he can already see a bruise forming, the indentations his canines left, and he feels dizzy with want. 

(Breathe.)

“Such a pretty girl.” He says, reaching for the lube in the nightstand. 

He doesn’t take Buck’s panties off, because he looks just too good with them, and he loves watching his cock twitch and leak in them, staining the delicate lace forever. 

“God, baby, you’re all wet.” He says, dipping one hand inside the panties to wrap it around Buck’s leaking cock. “Look at you, you’re just dying for it.”
“Eddie.” Buck says. “Yeah, Eddie, please, I need you, I need you, I need you-

He tugs at the rope with his other hand, choking out Buck’s next words. Buck’s trembling, shaking, reduced to a whimpering mess, he looks ruined already, and they’ve barely gotten started. 

He pulls the panties aside, exposing Buck’s hole and pressing a lubed up finger right inside. Buck arches, whines, moans, begs, and Eddie doesn’t wait,rapidly adding a second. 

“God, princesa, you moan like a whore.” He says,and Buck sobs, face pressed against the pillows, staining them with red lipstick and black mascara. “You look ruined sweetheart, crying on my bed and begging for cock.” 

“Please, Eddie, please, I need you so bad, I-

“You’re gonna take what I give you.” Eddie says, slapping his ass, hard. “You’re gonna be a good girl and let me take my time with your pretty pussy, okay?”
Buck sniffs, blush coloring his cheeks. 

“Yeah, yeah, Eddie, yeah.” 

“Good girl.” He says, and Buck whines again. Eddie tugs at his hair, licks a long stripe along his neck, and lets his face go so he can focus on his hole again. He fucks two fingers inside quickly, squirting more lube right on it so it’s dripping down his thighs, filthy and perverse. 

“You’re so wet, baby girl, bet I could slide right in.” He says, and Buck nods.

“Yeah, do it, Eddie, please, c’mon.” 

Another slap, Buck whines, tugs at the rope and chokes himself out, and his cock has made a puddle under him. 

“So needy, baby.” He says, adding a third finger. He aims for Buck’s prostate and rubs against it consistently, making Buck whimper and writhe on the bed, the muscles of his back and arms shifting, strength simmering below his skin, pulling and releasing uselessly, and it’s intoxicating.

There’s a thin layer of sweat coating Buck’s skin and he licks the salt from his back, pushes a fourth finger in, just because he can, because Buck looks so beautiful when he breaks, and he wants more, he wants all of it. 

(Breathe.)

“Eddie!” Buck sobs, tears running down his face. “Eddie, please, I’m so close, please, please-

“No.” He says, fucking his fingers harder in Buck’s hole, directly on his prostate. “You only come when I tell you. You know why?” 

Buck nods, eyes glossy and dark and rimmed with black when he looks at Eddie.

“‘cause I’m yours.” He says, and Eddie nods.

“That’s right, princesa, you’re mine, all mine.”
He punctuates each word with a thrust against Buck’s prostate, until Buck is whimpering, breathing hard and fast, his hands clenched into fists behind him. 

He pulls his hands back, then, uses the leftover lube to slick up his cock. 

“Okay, amorcito?” 

Buck nods.

“Yeah, yeah, Eddie, please.”
“Good girl.” He says, and he pushes in, ripping a long moan from Buck’s throat.

Buck’s hole is loose and sloppy with lube, it’s hot and fucking perfect, and Eddie knows he’s not gonna last long, too keyed up, pleasure twisting in his blood. He fucks Buck at a brutal pace, pushing inside his body with abandon. He grips the ropes around Buck’s hand with one hand, tugging gently to force the arch of Buck’s back deeper, to cut off his breathing, and Buck chokes, gasps, Eddie’s doesn’t let go, keeping him on the edge. 

“Eddie.” Buck chokes out. “More.” 

He pulls harder, fucks Buck faster, sweat coating his forehead. 

“Fuck, Buck, fuck.” He grits out, drunk on the punched-out moans Buck is making, they satisfy the bloodthirsty monster in his chest. He lets the ropes go and Buck sucks in air greedily, dropping his head down again until Eddie grabs him and lifts him off the bed. Buck cries out, unstable on his knees, until Eddie guides him to lay back against his chest, Buck’s tied up arms trapped between them. 

“Fuck, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie-

“Dios, your pussy’s so wet, princesa, you’re so tight, such a good whore, all mine-

“Yours, Eddie, I’m yours, only yours, please, please-

“You wanna come, baby?” He asks, trailing one hand under Buck’s panties, closing it in a loose fist around Buck’s cock, not nearly enough pressure to feel pleasurable, just enough to spring more tears from Buck’s eyes, black smudges running on his cheeks.

“Please, Eddie, please, I’m so close, I’m so- so close, please-

“You’re so pretty when you beg.” He says, against Buck’s neck. “I’m gonna fill you all up, baby, gonna make sure you know you’re mine, make sure everyone knows.” 

“God, Eddie, yes, please, I want it, I want you, wanna be yours-

“Gonna fuck you so hard it catches, baby, gonna-

“Christ, Eddie, God, fuck, say- say it again, say it-

He smiles, breathless, razor-sharp pleasure frying down his spine.

“Gonna fill you up with my cum, sweetheart, gonna fuck you so hard it sticks.” He runs his hands across Buck’s body, stopping over his belly, squeezing, and Buck moans, tilts his head back so Eddie can mouth at his neck again. “Gonna put a baby in you Buck, make you mine forever, keep you forever.” 

“Eddie, please, please, I want it, I wanna have it, please-

He sinks his teeth in Buck’s neck, right above the rope, cutting him off. He soothes the sting of the bite with his tongue, licking the salt from Buck’s skin, burning hot. 

“Come for me, Buck.” 

Buck sobs, biting his lips so hard that Eddie’s sure he’s tasting blood, and so he takes Buck’s chin with one hand and forces him to turn his head. The kiss tastes like copper and salt, metallic and acrid, it’s obscene, degenerate, damning. He wants more of it, he’s sick with it. 

(Breathe.)

Buck comes with a groan and clenches down around his cock, dragging him down with him. He comes buried deep in Buck’s body with a strangled moan and the taste of Buck’s blood on his tongue. He fucks into Buck a few more times, riding the high, and then he doesn’t pull back, holding Buck close to himself. 

He rests his head between Buck’s shoulder blades, trying to catch his breath. In his arms, Buck’s shaking like a leaf.

(Breathe.)

“Buck.” He says in the end, pulling out as gently as he can. Buck exhales, and Eddie watches his cum drip between Buck’s thighs. “Lay down.” 

Buck does with a shiver, thighs still spread, and Eddie pushes the cum back inside his ass, keeps it there with a finger, Buck’s hole clenching and releasing around the digit, it’s dizzying. 

“Eddie.” Buck moans. “You should- I want- 

“I think I know, sweetheart.” He says, leaning down to kiss his hip. “Don’t move.” 

And Buck doesn’t. Eddie practically runs to the closet to look for a buttplug, and when he comes back to the bed, Buck hasn’t moved an inch, ass clenched to keep Eddie’s cum inside, and Eddie’s so in love it hurts.

(Breathe.)

There’s barely any need for lube, the plug sliding right in. Eddie made sure to pick one that is slightly too large to really be comfortable, in metal with a flared base, so it stays put when Eddie pushes it in. There’s a jewel at the end, a fake sapphire, and it really is  so perfect. 

“There.” He says, pushing at the plug gently, just to feel Buck squirm. “All mine.” 

“Yours.” Buck exhales, still under, and Eddie smiles.

“Let me untie you, cariño.” He says, and Buck hums, melting on the mattress as Eddie undoes the knot one by one, sliding the rope off Buck’s body. There are faint red marks around Buck’s wrists and arms and slightly darker one on his neck, where he pulled too hard for too long, and Eddie massages his fingers over them. 

“Turn around, baby.” He says, and Buck does, rolling on his back so Eddie can kiss him. “You look ruined, cariño. So pretty.” 

Buck blushes, smiles, loopy and lost, his eyes glossy. He wipes the streaks of mascara from his face, and whatever is left of the lipstick from his lips. Buck lets him, turning his face to press a kiss against Eddie’s palm. 

(It’s enough to steal all the oxygen from Eddie’s lungs.)

(Breathe)

“You’re so beautiful, cariño.” He whispers, leans down to kiss him, and Buck kisses him back, arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders to hold him close. 

(I love you.) 

“My panties are ruined.” Buck says, pouting, and Eddie feels sick with love. 

“I’ll buy you another pair.” 

“You already did.” Buck says, with a laugh. “You bought me three pairs. And makeup.”
Eddie smiles, kissing him again, and again, and again.

“I’ll buy you all the lingerie you want.”
“You’ll go bankrupt.” 

“I don’t care.”
“That’s why your credit score is so terrible.” 

Eddie laughs, and Buck laughs too, and they kiss over and over and over, until they’re breathless, and even then, Buck reaches out for more. He always does. 

(Breathe.)

He pulls back enough to trail kisses along the sharp line of Buck’s jaw, his stubble a pleasant prickle against his lips, then lower along his neck and collarbones and chest. He squeezes Buck’s fake tits together, pulling at the bra to pinch Buck’s nipple between two fingers. 

“I love your tits, baby.”
“Eddie, God.” Buck says, half a moan, half a laugh. Eddie just shrugs.

“It’s true.”
“If you like ‘em so much, maybe you should fuck ‘em.” 

Hot tendrils of want burn through him, twisting in his guts. Buck’s smile drops from his face, his eyes dark all over again. 

“Maybe I will.” He says. 

“You’re way into this.” 

“You don’t seem to mind too much.”
“I don't.” Buck smiles, beautiful and blindinging, leans up to kiss him again, quickly, just a peck. Eddie pushes him in the mattress and grabs his jaw to force his mouth open, so he can kiss him deeply, hungry, demanding. 

“I know you don’t, baby.” He says when they part. “I know you like being my good girl as much as you like being my good boy.” 

“Fucking-

Eddie kisses him again, then pulls back. Buck stays spread out of the bed, with faint traces of makeup on his face, his thighs ripped, body littered with bruises and hickeys. He watches Eddie from under heavy lashes. 

(Breathe.)

“You should make dinner.” Eddie says, and he watches Buck’s cock twitch, the plug gleaming in the soft light of the bedroom. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

Buck’s smile is sharp, hungry, he sits up to lean in, presses wet kisses against Eddie’s neck. Eddie exhales, tilting his head back, Buck’s hand resting over his shoulder. 

“You want me to make you dinner, baby?” Buck asks, voice low and sultry. “Want me to walk around in my cum-stained lingerie? Keep it on so you can watch me while I cook? Want me to be your good housewife?” 

“Yeah.” He breathes out, Buck’s hand traveling lower across his stomach, and his own cock twitches with interest. “Yeah, I- I do, Buck.” 

“Want me to walk around with my hole full of your cum? Full of your babies?” 

Eddie kisses him, licking into his mouth like a starved man, a sinner at the altar. 

“Buck.” He chokes out, and Buck’s laughing, delighted, his eyes dark. 

“C’mon, handsome.” Buck says, taking his hand to drag him up. “Come in the kitchen with me, let’s see if we have anything to eat.” 

Buck lets him put his underwear and a pair of sweatpants back on, and then guides him to the kitchen. 

“Why don’t you open us a bottle of wine?” Buck asks, and Eddie moves on autopilot, powerless against Buck’s charm to do anything but obey. He opens the fridge to find the one bottle of champagne they keep in there. He opens it with a loud pop, grabs the fancy flutes he and Shannon got when they got married and literally never used. Buck starts boiling water, presumably to make pasta, and Eddie pours him a glass. 

Buck bats his lashes at him when he takes the glass, takes a sip. 

“Thank you, handsome.” 

Eddie kisses him again, tasting the bubbly sweetness of the champagne on his tongue, addicting. 

“Sit down.” Buck says, putting his glass on the table and pulling back. Eddie does.

(Breathe.)

Watching Buck cook is familiar. Watching Buck move around in the kitchen even more so,  pulling things out of the cabinet and the fridge with ease. 

(Buck’s cooked more here than he ever did at the loft.) 

(The thought fills him with pleasure.) 

“What are you making?” He asks, too busy watching the plug in Buck’s ass to really hear what the answer is. It doesn’t really matter, he loves all of Buck’s cooking. 

Buck’s laugh drags his eyes away from his ass, and Eddie smiles, grins, shameless even though he’s been caught staring red-handed. 

“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?” Buck asks, teasing, flirtatious, all red lips and blue eyes and pink cheeks. Eddie shakes his head.

“I think I should be excused.” He answers. “Have you seen yourself right now?” 

“Tell me anyway.” Buck says, and Eddie smiles, standing up to crowd him against the counter. 

“Beautiful.” He says on Buck’s lips, and Buck’s breathing stutters, he moans quietly, reaching up to kiss him. Eddie pulls back just before their lips can make contact. “What about dinner, sweetheart?” 

“Asshole.” Buck says, and so Eddie spins him around and slaps him on the ass. Buck hisses, hips fucking against the counter. “Fuck.”
“Don’t forget who’s in charge here, amorcito.” 

“Right.” Buck breathes out. “You, you are, Eds, you- God.” 

“That’s right, mi amor. I am.” 

Eddie lets him go, sitting back at the table and Buck shivers against the counter, turning to look at him with heavy eyes. His cock is hard again, straining against his panties, and Eddie watches it bounce as Buck goes back to cooking, so criminally pretty in ruined lace and satin. He drinks his champagne and he watches Buck beat some eggs and fry pancetta to make carbonara. 

“Where does this even come from?” He asks eventually, pouring himself another glass. Buck glances at the bottle, blushes furiously. 

“You, uh- you probably don’t wanna know.” Buck says.

“What? Why not?” 

“It’s Tommy’s.” 

“Tommy’s?” He bites, can’t quite help the sudden anger sparking in his chest. “Why the fuck is his wine in my fridge?” 

“I- uh, well.” 

“Buck.” 

There’s a teasing glint in Buck’s eyes, something dangerous that makes the beast in his chest grumble with hunger. He stands, Buck holds his gaze. 

“We hooked up, after you left for Texas.” Buck says, eyes dark, and the beast roars, violent and bloodthirsty. 

“What?” He asks, voice ice-cold, and Buck shivers, backing up against the counter. Buck’s dick is hard as rock. Eddie’s too. 

“I missed you.” Buck says, and Eddie’s dizzy with want. 

“So you fucked another guy? Tommy?” 

“I couldn’t fuck you, could I?” 

Eddie kisses him, harsh and possessive and feral, he licks into Buck’s mouth and he bites at his bottom lip until it bleeds, the taste of it mixing it with the champagne on Buck’s tongue. Buck moans in his mouth and Eddie spins him around.

“You’re such a slut.” He bites, pushing Buck harder against the counter, something cluttering on the surface when Buck drops whatever it is he was holding. “How long did it take you to go find someone else? Did you wait a full month?” He asks, and he bites Buck’s neck, hard, it’ll leave a bruise, a big one.

“No.” Buck chokes out, pushing back against his cock, and so Eddie grabs the lube from his pocket and pulls down his pants. He squirts some of the lube on his cock, achingly hard, and Buck groans when Eddie slaps his ass.

“Whore.” He says, pulling the plug from Buck’s ass and forcing his dick inside before the cum can leak out of Buck’s hole. It’s dizzying, pleasure burning in his blood, dark and twisted. 

“Eddie.” Buck chokes on his name, and it’s so satisfying. He fucks Buck hard and rough, uncaring that Buck’s hips are slamming repeatedly against the edge of the kitchen. He holds Buck’s waist in a bruising grip, wishing he could mark his name over Buck’s very bones, carve his name in his soul. 

“God, Buck.” He hisses, and Buck’s moaning too much to form a proper sentence. “Fuck, did he fuck you in here? Or- or the bedroom?”
“Eddie, Eddie, Eds-

“Where?” 

“Bedroom!” Buck yells when a particularly hard thrust rubs against his prostate. He chokes on a sob, hands scrambling uselessly to find purchase. Eddie leans closer, wrapping one arm around his waist to hold him close, and the other around his neck to force his head back. 

“Did you like it?” He asks, and Buck’s smile threatens to send him over the edge immediately. 

“No.” Buck says. “He’s- he’s not you.” 

“Buck.” 

“I wanted it- to be you.” Buck says, moans breaking up his words. “Eddie.” 

Eddie grabs his hair to force his head to the side so he can kiss him, messy and uncoordinated and all-consuming.  

“You’re mine, Buck. Mine.” 

“Yeah, yeah-

“No one gets to touch you like this.” He says, digging his fingers in Buck’s jaw, forcing his lips apart. “I’m the only one who can fuck you like this.” 

“Yeah, Eds, Eddie, you are, the only one, please, please-

“You think you deserve to come?” He asks, laughing, and Buck gasps, eyes fluttering close. “After all that? Letting another man fuck you like a whore in my house?” 

“Please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please, please-

“No, don’t think so.” Eddie says, and then he pushes Buck down, forces the arch of his back deeper with a hand on his back, and fucks into him with abandon. It doesn’t take long before he’s coming, spilling inside Buck’s hole again. Buck sobs, and the monster in Eddie’s chest sings, his blood boils. 

(Breathe.)

He pulls out with a hiss, pushing the plug right back inside. Buck is panting hard, eyes half-closed still as Eddie spins him around, kisses him.

“Eddie.” Buck moans, rubbing his cock on Eddie’s legs, and Eddie pulls back, smiling, cold and uncaring. 

“Be good, Buck.” He says, and Buck whines, shivers, visibly struggles to hold himself back from touching his dick. “Good girl.”
“Christ, Eddie.” Buck whispers, and he finally opens his eyes, the blue almost entirely swallowed by black, burning holes in Eddie’s very soul. 

“Keep cooking, Buck, we don’t want dinner to be late.” 

“R-right.” Buck stutters, turning around slowly to the stove. 

Eddie takes his place back at the table, and takes a long sip from the glass again. 

“The champagne’s even better now.” 

Buck laughs, surprised, looking over at him.

“God, Eddie!” 

Eddie just grins at him, watches Buck’s shoulders relax slowly as he goes back to cooking. 

(Breathe.)

Soon enough, dinner’s ready, and Buck places a plate of rigatoni in front of him. He’s about to sit on the other side of the table, when Eddie grabs his wrists, pulls him closer.

“Sit here.” He says, spreading his legs, and Buck audibly swallows.

“I’m too heavy.” 

“Sit down, Buck.” Buck nods, lips parted and eyes liquid, and sits down sideways on Eddie’s lap. He grins, dragging one hand down Buck’s naked back, bumping on the strap of the bra and the elastic of the panties. Buck shivers, moans when Eddie pushes at the plug. 

“Eddie.” Buck whines, and Eddie smiles, using his other hand to grab the fork. He picks up a bite.

“Open up, sweetheart.” 

Buck does, eyes fixed on Eddie as he feeds him, bite after bite. He takes some for himself, and gives some to Buck, all from the same plate. 

“It’s delicious, baby.” He says, because it is, and Buck blushes at the compliment, preening under Eddie’s attention.

“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Eddie says, pulling him down for a kiss that tastes like pasta and champagne and Buck. It’s delicious, it’s perfect. “You want a drink?”
“Yeah.” Buck says, reaching for his glass. Eddie slaps his hand away, taking Buck’s chin to make him look at him.

“Open up, tilt your head back.” 

“God.” Buck whispers, but does as told. Eddie takes the bottle and lifts it over Buck’s mouth, his tongue lolling out. He pours a delicate stream of champagne down Buck’s throat, watching the way it spills down his chin and chest and tits. As Buck swallows, Eddie leans in to lick it from Buck’s tits, sucking another bruise there just for good measure. 

“Fuck, Eddie.” Buck groans, 

(Breathe.)

The food’s gone quickly enough, and once it’s over, he pushes Buck to stand up, drags him back to the bedroom. 

“Buck.” He moans in his mouth, while they make out like teenagers on the bed. “Buck, you taste so good.” 

Buck moans in return, grinding against Eddie’s leg on top of him, and so Eddie pushes, flips them around, pressing Buck in the mattress.

“Stop it, or I’m gonna tie you up again.” 

“Fuck, Eddie, touch me, please.” Buck whines, and Eddie reaches between his legs to squeeze Buck’s cock so hard it has to hurt. Buck arches off the bed, moans breaking into a sob, hands scrambling for purchase on the dirty blankets. 

“Like this?” He asks, and Buck shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut.
“No, not- wait, not like that, Eddie-

“Oh, more?” He asks, grinning, tightening his grip further, and Buck yelps, heaves in an uneven breath. “You want more, baby?” 

“Wait, wait, Eddie, please, it’s- it’s too much, please.” 

“I thought you couldn’t get enough.” He says, stroking Buck’s cock, too tight and too fast and not enough precum to make it anywhere close to pleasurable. “Little cockslut like you.” 

“Eddie, Eddie, God- 

“Buck.” He calls, and Buck blinks at him, eyes glossy and wet. “I’m gonna slap your dick, color?” 

Buck’s eyes widen, and he looks so, so pretty. He looks even better, when he nods.

“Green.” 

(Breathe.)

Eddie slaps his cock, hard, fingers catching on the head, and he catches Buck’s wrists as his hands fly down to touch it. Buck screams. 

“Don’t.” He bites. “Keep your hands above your head, Buck.”
“Eddie, fuck.” Buck says, fresh tears rolling down his cheek, and he’s shaking all over again, wrecked and beautiful. “Eddie, God.” 

“God, Buck.” He says, leaning down to press a kiss on his hip. “You’re so beautiful.”
“Eddie.” 

“Again?” 

“Please.” 

“Painslut.” 

And so Eddie brings his hand down again, and Buck screams again, the most beautiful sound Eddie’s ever hard. 

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck-

He leans down and sucks Buck’s cock in his mouth. Buck trashes on the bed, whimpering, but his hands stay firmly put above his head, and Eddie’s chest is tight with want, desperation burning in his veins. He twists his tongue on the head of Buck’s cock, hollowing out his cheeks and Buck fucks up into his mouth.

“Stay still, Buck.” He grits out, and Buck nods fervently a few times, and so he leans back down and sucks Buck’s cock in his mouth again. Buck moans, arching off the bed, and Eddie digs his hands in his hips, swallows around the head, then again. 

“Eddie, Christ, fuck, your mouth- please, I’m so close, please, I can’t- I-

“You wanna come, sweetheart?” He asks, using his hand to stroke him off, and Buck nods, biting his lip. 

“Yeah, please, please, Eds. Please.” 

“Not yet.” He says, picking up the pace, and Buck whines, moans, tears cling to his lashes, and he looks so beautiful that it might kill him. 

“Eddie.” Buck chokes out, he’s shaking from head to toe with the effort of holding back, even as Eddie keeps stroking him. His fists are clenched so tight around the headboards that his knuckles have turned white. 

(Breathe.)

He pulls his hands off just as Buck’s cock twitches again, and Buck whines, sobs.

“Eddie.” 

“Such a good girl for me.” He says, sliding over Buck’s body to claim his lips in another bruising kiss. “Doing exactly what I tell her.” 

“Oh God.” Buck’s moan is lost in their kiss, until Eddie moves lower to pepper kisses along his jaw and down his neck, and lower over Buck’s tits, squeezing them together. 

“You have such perfect fucking tits, amor.” 

(Breathe.)

He pulls back long enough to kick off his pants, pulling out his hard cock. He strokes it a few times, just to watch Buck’s mouth open, like a pavlovian response. He smirks, climbing on top of Buck’s chest, legs straddling him. 

“Eddie.” Buck whispers, veneration dripping in his voice as he looks up at him, and Eddie threads his fingers through his hair. 

“Don’t move, cariño, I’m gonna fuck your tits.” 

“Christ.” 

He guides his dick to sit between Buck’s tits, between the two cups of the bra.

 “Squeeze them together for me, amorcito, will you?” 

Buck does, movements a little sluggish and eyes wide, pushing his chest together so it makes something akin to a channel for Eddie to fuck his dick in. He groans at the feeling, the skin of Buck’s chest and the lace of his bra twisting together in a heavy mix, pleasure and pain, his dick so sensitive, it’s heady, confusing, it’s too much, it’s not nearly enough.

He fucks between Buck’s tits with abandon, tightening the grip he has on Buck’s hair. 

“Open your mouth, querida.” He says, and Buck does, letting his tongue loll out, saliva dripping down his neck. “Fuck, you’re such a whore.” 

Buck’s blush is bright red, his lips kiss bitten to the same color, his eyes glossy and so very blue. Buck looks up at him, and Eddie’s done for.  

He comes on Buck’s chest and face, pleasure burning right through him, a forest fire that can’t be contained. 

“Buck.” 

(Breathe.)

There’s cum on Buck’s face, he’s panting hard below Eddie, like he’s the one who’s just come. His mouth is still open, and so Eddie drags his finger through the cum on his chin, pushes it past his lips. Buck groans, eyes fluttering close for a second, before swallowing around Eddie’s finger. 

“Keep your mouth open.” He says, breathless, and Buck nods, so Eddie does it over and over, picking the cum from wherever it landed and pushing it in Buck’s mouth. He presses his fingers down on Buck’s tongue until he gags, tears spilling from his eyes. He fucks his fingers down Buck’s throat until he groans, eyes rolling back against his skull.

“God, Buck, you’re such a slut, you just love having something in your throat.” 

“Ple’e.” Buck garbles, staring at him with oceans in his eyes, and Eddie knows he couldn’t refuse him, if he tried. 

He climbs off Buck’s body to take his place back between Buck’s legs. God, he looks ruined. 

(Breathe.)

He pulls down Buck’s panties enough to pull out his cock, leftover cum sticking on it, and new precum leaking from the tip. He wraps one hand around it, stroking him off quickly. Buck moans, legs shaking to hold still. He’s still squeezing his tits together, like he forgot about it, because Eddie didn’t tell him to move. 

(Eddie loves him, so much, and he wants and wants and wants-

“Feel free to come whenever you want, amor.” He says, and Buck nods, so Eddie leans down and sucks his dick in his mouth again.

In the end, it takes less than a minute, Buck clearly on a hair-trigger. Buck comes down his throat, and he swallows it down as best as he can, God knows he’s not nearly as talented at this as Buck is. 

He licks Buck’s cock clean, tastebuds invaded by the flavor of Buck, Eddie’s favorite thing in the entire world. When he pulls off, Buck’s still shaking lightly, panting hard. 

“Buck.” He calls, and Buck smiles, watery and loopy and exhausted.

“Eddie.” 

Eddie kisses him, over and over, until Buck’s not shaking anymore and they’re both breathless. When the need for air becomes too much, he finally pulls back, only to have Buck chase after him. He smiles on Buck’s lips, and Buck laughs, and Eddie can taste it in their next kiss.

(Breathe.)

“You did so good, baby.” He says, cupping Buck’s face to watch him closely. “So perfect for me.” 

Buck hums, smiling, his eyes bright. Eddie kisses him again.

(He wants and wants and wants-

“Did you like it?” Buck asks, and Eddie lets out a disbelief laugh.

“Was that not clear enough?” 

Looking at Buck when he smiles like this is like staring directly at the sun. 

“I loved it.” He answers in the end. “You were- so beautiful. You always are.” 

Buck’s breath hitches, and he thinks he said too much. 

(Breathe.) 

He pulls back, and Buck’s face falls. Something in Eddie’s chest cracks.

(No, he can't do it.) 

(Breathe.)

He holds out his hand, and Buck takes it immediately, lets Eddie pull him up on unsteady legs. 

“C’mon, sweetheart, lets get you cleaned up.” 

Buck smiles again, nods. 

(He’s probably still deep in subspace, Eddie can see the unfocused gaze in his eyes.) 

“C’mon.” 

He guides Buck towards the bathroom, starts the shower. He pulls Buck close while they wait, presses small kisses on his lips, and on his cheeks and down his neck. Buck’s laugh saturates the humid air around them, echoes down the empty hallways of the house, and it fills the empty space in his chest. 

He smiles too, laughs, powerless to do anything else against the sound, contagious. Buck’s happiness is bright, easy, powerful, it swoops up everything else around him like a tornado. 

His hands catch on Buck’s panties.

“You really ruined this.” He says, and Buck laughs again.

“I didn’t do it on my own.” He replies, easy like summer days. “I vividly remember you doing most of the work.” 

“Maybe.” 

He hooks his fingers on the elastic and pulls them down together with the ripped tight-highs. Then he wraps his arms around Buck’s back to undo his bra, also covered in cum. 

(He feels a bit crazy about it, like maybe he wants to frame the set and put it up on his wall.) 

(Breathe.)

Once the water is warm, they step under it. Buck hums softly, and Eddie steals the sound directly from his lips. 

“Turn around, tilt your head back.”
“I can wash my own hair, you know.” Buck says, sounding a bit more present just then. Eddie smiles anyway.

“Humor me.” 

Buck does as he’s told, and Eddie pours some shampoo on his hand, threads it through Buck’s hair to wash off the sweat. He rinses it off and does the same with the conditioner, until his fingers can run through the strands without getting caught. 

“Turn around.” He says then, and Buck does, eyes half-closed. He smiles. “You with me, Buck?” 

“Mhm.” Buck hums, looking like opening his eyes all the way is the hardest thing he’s ever done. 

“Relaxed?”
“Very.” Buck mumbles, and then he leans in and kisses him, and Eddie lets him, his heart is racing. “I love it when you wash my hair.” 

“I’ll wash it whenever you want.” He breathes out, drunk on Buck’s little smile and sleepy eyes. 

(Too much, too close, he feels sick.)

(Breathe.) 

He runs soapy hands across Buck’s shoulder and over his front, washing the cum and sweat sticking to his skin. He’s delicate with Buck’s face, cleaning off the tear tracks left by the mascara and the red smudges of his lipstick and the cum that dripped on his neck. There are faint bruises circling his throat, from the rope, and he thinks, distantly, that maybe he should buy Buck a necklace of some kind, because they look good, the evident mark of Eddie painted all over Buck’s skin, he wants to keep them there forever.

“Ready?” He asks eventually, running his hands down Buck’s back and over his ass. 

“No.” Buck says immediately, leaning forward to wrap his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and pressing his head in the curve of Eddie’s neck. He laughs, holding him right back. “Wanna keep it forever. Wanna be yours forever.” 

It’s like being punched, it steals all the air from his lungs. 

(Breathe.) 

Buck is still down and under, that’s why he’s saying that. It has to be like that, Eddie knows it, because Buck doesn’t feel the same way as Eddie does. 

“You already are.” He says anyway, self-indulgent and masochistic, because he can’t help it, because he wants it so badly that it might kill him, and saying anything else would feel like a lie. 

(Breathe.) 

Buck hums, and Eddie feels his lips press against his neck in a feathery kiss. Buck’s fingers dig in his shoulders. 

“Okay, then.” 

And so Eddie blinks against the water in his eyes, that might or might not be from the shower, and reaches behind Buck for the plug still nestled in his ass. He pulls at it gently, trying to be as careful and gentle as someone like him can be. 

The plug comes free with a loud pop, and cum starts leaking out of Buck’s hole right away. Eddie washes it all down the drain like he’s also not dying to keep it inside him forever. 

(Breathe.)

When they’re done with their shower, they dry off quickly and make one last effort to change the ruined bed, before collapsing on it.

(And those bedsheets, stained with Buck’s mascara and lipstick, will forever hunt his dreams.) 

“C’mon, get comfortable, I’ll turn off all these candles.”
“Can’t believe you lit up candles for me. It’s a fire hazard.” Buck says, eyes already closed, smiling against the pillows. 

“It’s not a fire hazard. I made sure of it.” 

“Were you trying to woo me?” 

“Did it work?”
Buck smiles.

“Yeah.” 

“Then it was worth it.” He says, snuffing out the last candle. When he turns around, Buck’s already asleep. He smiles, running one hand through Buck’s hair. He joins Buck under the blanket.

(Breathe.)

Buck looks younger like this, his face relaxed, his lips parted. He presses a kiss on Buck’s hairline, and then lower, over Buck’s birthmark. Buck doesn’t stir, passed out. 

His heart is still racing. 

“I love you.” He says to the darkness, to Buck’s sleeping form. “So much.” 

Buck doesn’t answer. 

(Probably better that way.) 

(Eddie could never tell him any other way.) 

(Breathe.)

He falls asleep listening to Buck’s regular breathing. 

***

It’s dark when the bed dips, pulling him away from sleep. He reaches out blindly.

“Buck?”
“Here.” 

(Breathe.) 

Buck is getting back in bed.

“Where d’you go?” He mumbles, voice heavy with sleep. 

“Just to get some water.” Buck answers, and he hums, pulling Buck closer. Buck comes, and Eddie curls himself around Buck, sinking in the warmth of his body, feeling Buck’s steady heartbeat under his hand. 

It’s quiet for a while, and Eddie’s about to fall back asleep, when Buck’s voice cuts through the darkness. 

“Eddie, are you- are we okay?” 

(Breathe.)

“About Tommy.” Buck continues, and Eddie exhales, squeezing Buck’s tighter against his chest, close, closer. There’s a sudden lump in his throat.

“Yeah, Buck, we’re okay.” He breathes out. “I wasn’t here. And even if I were, it’s not- it’s not my business who you sleep with.” He says, because that is a fact, even if it feels like a lie. 

Buck doesn’t move. 

(Breathe.)

“Did you mean it?” He asks, because maybe he’s lost it. Maybe it’s because it’s dark. Maybe it’s because it’s Buck, and Eddie has always found it very easy to talk to Buck. “When you said you didn’t like it. Was it true?” 

“No.” Buck says, and it sounds like he’s smiling. Eddie huffs a quiet laugh too.

“I knew it. Liar.” 

Buck turns around in his arms, so they come up face to face. With the moonlight streaming through the window, Buck’s hair shines like silver, liquid mercury, his eyes glinting like stars in the night sky. 

“I did want him to be you, though.” Buck says, and Eddie’s breath catches. “I always want it to be you.” 

(He doesn’t know how to do this.)

(It’s too real, too honest, too close.) 

He wants to live in this moment forever. 

(It might kill him.) 

He runs his thumb across Buck’s cheek, under his eyes, Buck turns his head to press a kiss into the palm of his hand, and Eddie wants too much.

(There are things he wants to say, I always want it to be you too, I love you, I want you to be mine forever, I don’t want to keep pretending, I want you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I’m sorry I can’t love you like you deserve, stay-

He leans in to press a kiss over Buck’s forehead, and then another on his birthmark.

“It’s late.” He says. “We should sleep.” 

Buck pulls back. 

“Yeah.” He whispers. “Goodnight, Eddie.” 

“Goodnight, Buck.” 

Eddie doesn’t fall asleep again. He’s pretty sure Buck doesn’t either. 

Chapter Text

[Do i wanna know,

if this feeling flows both ways?]

When Buck was very young, and Maddie had gone away to summer camp for two weeks, he’d yelled at his mother. 

“Why don’t you love me?” He had screamed it, yelling it at the top of his lungs, the way only six years olds can do. He’d done it with tears falling down his face and snot in his nose, his tiny fists clenched. 

She’d just looked at him, through him, the way she always did. She hadn’t answered him, just left the kitchen, left him sobbing and screaming on the floor. 

Eventually, he realized no one was coming to help, and got himself off the floor. 

***

“Do you want me to come with you?” 

(Desperately.) 

“Nah, it’s okay. Chim’s not gonna be there either.” He says, and it clicks just a beat too late that he implied that Eddie is at the same social level as Chim, Maddie’s husband. He glances over at Eddie, who didn’t even blink at that, like it’s perfectly normal. 

“Fine.” Eddie says. They’re in the kitchen, unloading this week’s groceries. Or well, Buck’s unloading the groceries, itching for something to do before he starts pulling out his hair. Eddie’s leaning against the counter, with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“It’s just a dinner.” He says, not sure if he’s trying to convince Eddie or himself. Eddie clearly doesn’t buy it, scoffing. 

“Yeah, it would be if your parents were not such assholes.” 

It rips a smile out of him. 

“I’ll be fine. Maddie’s gonna be there. It’s gonna be okay.” 

Eddie eyes him wearily, and Buck looks away first. 

(Focus, Buck.) 

***

Maddie takes his pinky before they go in. 

“Ready?” She asks, and he grimaces. 

“Nope.”
“Yeah, me neither.” She smiles, shaky and forced. “It’s just a dinner.”
It makes him smile a little.

“I told Eddie the same thing.”
“Did he believe you?”
“Not a chance.”
“Thought so.” 

They walk in the restaurants together. It’s a fancy place, with low lights, that required Buck to dress up. So here he stands, in a jacket and a white button-up. Maddie’s wearing a long dress, in a dark plum color, she looks good. It’d almost be fun, getting dressed up to go eat fancy food, if it wasn’t for the two people waiving at them.

They sit down on the same side of the table, their parents on the other side.

“Maddie, Evan, you’re late.” Margaret says, right off the bat, and Buck glances at Maddie. She hides a smile behind her water glass.

“By, like, one minute.” He says, just to be petulant, and Margaret waves him off. 

(Focus, Evan.)

Whatever. 

(Focus, Buck.)

Dinner goes remarkably well.

They talk about Maddie’s new baby, and she shows them some pictures. They talk about Hershey, how quickly the weather got cold. They talk about their jobs, recounting funny stories. They talk about the food, which is in fact delicious and insanely overpriced. 

So dinner’s going remarkably well, until his mom’s eyes turn on him.

“And what about that man of yours?” 

He may have had too much wine.

“Eddie?” 

His parents glance at each other, next to him Maddie chokes on her glass of wine. 

“We thought his name was Thomas?” 

Oh. Right. Tommy. The boyfriend Buck introduced to them when he came out. That he brought to Maddie’s wedding. Right. That. 

(Certainly not his best friend. With whom Buck is just friends.) 

(Focus, Buck.)

“Right.” He says, and below the table Maddie kicks him. He refuses to look at her. “We, uh- we broke up a while ago.” 

They look surprised.

“But you brought him to your sister’s wedding.” Phillip says. 

“Yeah, we broke up.” He says, because none of the disappointed glances his parents are sending him will make that any less true.

“So, who is Eddie?” Margaret asks, and Buck would like to dig a hole and bury himself in it, thank you very much.   

“He’s my, uh- you’ve met him, actually. We work together? He has the cutest kid, I know you met him, remember? At Cap’s place?” 

“But who is he?”
“He’s- my best friend.” He says, because that’s a fact, and Maddie kicks him again. He glares at her. “I’m staying at his place while I look for another house, that’s why I thought you were asking about him, yes, that- that makes sense, yes.” 

“You’re moving?” Phillip asks, and Buck thinks that maybe he doesn’t even need a shovel, he’s digging the hole perfectly fine all by himself. 

“Yeah.” He says weakly. His parents blink at him, confused.

“Why?” 

“It’s a long story.” He answers. His parents look at him expectantly, so he sighs. “Eddie needed someone to sublet his place while he went to Texas and so I- I took over the house.”
“But you’re living together now? When did this happen?”
“A few months ago.”
“And you’re still living together?” 

“Well, yeah.” 

Margaret blinks. 

“With his son.” She says, like he’s being obtuse on purpose. He nods again.

“Yeah. Chris.” 

“Son, you realize that’s- odd.” Phillip says, and Buck reaches for his glass, downing the rest of the wine in it.

“I’m looking for a new place.” He says, which is a lie, but his parents don’t need to know that. 

(And to think dinner was going so well.) 

(Focus, Buck.)

“That’s not a livable situation, Evan.” Margaret says. “A family needs its space, you can’t keep intruding yourself in their lives like this.”
It makes his skin prickle. 

“Maybe they want me there, mom.” He bites back, and Margaret flinches. Jesus.

Maddie’s hand is on his arm.

“Buck and Eddie are very close.” She says, her voice placating, eyes bouncing between their parents. “He’s been helping Eddie out with Chris since he was little.” 

“That’s absurd.” Phillip says then. “Your mother’s right, Evan, you can’t keep living there. You’re not a kid anymore, it’s time to grow up.” 

“We’re fine like we are.” He says, trying to keep the venom out of his voice. “Can we talk about something else?” 

Phillip scoffs, dismissive. Margaret doesn’t, staring right at Buck.

“It’s not right.” She continues. “You can’t play family with them. You need to settle down.” 

“What do you know about family?” He bites back, and they both gasp. It would be funny, if it wasn’t so tragic. 

“Evan.” Phillip hisses. “Don’t talk to your mother like that.” 

“Why not? She’s the one who’s got so much to say about the way I’m living my life!” 

“We’re just worried about you, Evan.” Margaret says, her eyes shining like maybe she’s going to cry. “You’re thirty, living with a roommate and his son and you’ve just been broken up with again.” 

“Mom, please.” Maddie says, eyes wide. 

“It’s fine.” He says, squeezing her hand under the table.
“Buck-

“It’s fine, Maddie, I already know what they think of me.” He says, because there’s a reason if family therapy never made it past the third session. 

(Focus, Buck.)

“It’s just because we love you.” Phillip says, and Buck wants to laugh. He doesn't, looking over at their mother. She looks away.

“Do you?” He asks, the words out before he can really think about it. 

“Evan, of course-

“Mom.” He cuts Phillip off. “I’m talking- I’m asking you.” 

“Evan, please.” 

“Mom.” Maddie whispers, and she looks devastated. Buck thinks he should feel something like that too. He doesn’t feel anything.

“Say it.” He says instead, because he needs to hear her say it. 

(‘Why don’t you love me?’)

Margaret is crying. He doesn’t feel bad about it. He doesn’t feel good about it, either.

(Focus, Evan.)

“Evan, I tried.” Margaret chokes out, tears sliding her face. “After Daniel, I- I tried, I wanted to, but you- you were just so-

“Say it.” 

“You’re just…you’re so hard to love.” 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

He doesn’t remember standing up and leaving the restaurant. He doesn’t remember getting an uber. 

When he blinks himself back into reality, he’s home. 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

He gets out of the car, waving his driver goodbye. 

Then he just stands there, on the driveway of Eddie’s house. 

He doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. It feels like he’s moving through mud, like he’s trying to breathe in a room without any oxygen.

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

The door opens. 

(Hard to love, hard to love, hard to love, hard to love, unlovable-

Eddie’s on the doorway, his figure framed by the warm light coming from inside. 

“Are you gonna come in or are you gonna spend all night out there?” Eddie asks, his voice warm, and it shoots through Buck like lightning. 

He moves.

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

Inside, the house is quiet.

“Where’s Chris?” He asks, and his voice barely sounds like his own, distant and muffled, like he’s under water. 

“I sent him to Pepa’s for the night.”
“Why?”
“Maddie called me.” He answers. “I thought you might like some space to decompress.” 

“Of course.” 

(Focus, Buck.)

He’s in the kitchen. He doesn’t quite remember walking here, but there he stands. He grabs a glass of water, splashes some of it on his face. His hands are shaking. 

“Did- did she say what happened?” He asks, can’t quite look at Eddie. 

“No.” Eddie says. “She said it wasn’t her place to tell. She sounded real mad, though.” 

“I shouldn’t have left like that.”

“I don’t think that’s what she’s so mad about.” 

He doesn’t answer. He feels a bit sick.

“Buck.” 

“Leave it alone, Eddie.”
“What happened?” 

(‘You’re just so hard to love.’)

He turns around. Eddie’s standing on the other side of the kitchen, his arms crossed across his chest. His eyes are warm, golden even under the fluorescent light of the room. It hurts to look at him, it always does. 

(But then, Buck’s always liked pain a bit too much.) 

(Focus, Buck.)

“My parents think I’m hard to love. Too hard to love.” He says, an open wound bleeding all over the place. Eddie flinches, gasps.

“What?” He whispers, and Buck nods. 

“They think I’m unlovable.” He says, and it rips a laugh out of him, because God, he’s saying all this to Eddie, of all people. “Maybe they’re right.” 

“Buck, you know that’s insane.” Eddie says, stepping forward. He shakes his head.

“Is it?” He asks, tears burning in his eyes. “I mean, look at me. I can’t- I can’t keep a relationship, everyone leaves me, I- I don’t know, may-maybe they’re right about me, m-maybe there’s something wrong with me that makes it impossible for people to-

His voice cracks, breaks, and he heaves in sharp inhale, willing his lungs to stay inflated when his ribcage threatens to collapse. It hurts, Jesus, even though he thinks he might have always known.

(He thinks he knew when he was six, on that floor, lonely and alone.) 

(He thinks he knew when Maddie told him she wasn’t coming with him, and handed him the keys to the Jeep.)

(He thinks he knew when he watched Abby walk past those glass doors, and she didn’t turn back.)

(He thinks he knew when Ally and Taylor and Tommy all left, slamming the door shut on the way out.) 

(He thinks he knew when he watched Eddie climb in the truck and leave for Texas.) 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

“Buck.” Eddie’s there, right in front of him, and the space between them still feels like an ocean. “Buck, hey, they’re wrong.” 

And Buck wants to believe him so much, so terribly, that when Eddie kisses him, Buck kisses back. 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

It’s different from all their other kisses. 

It’s slow and deep, intentional in the way Eddie touches him, holds him, kisses him. It’s still hungry, still desperate, still full of want, but it feels- it feels more.

“Buck.” Eddie’s voice is laced with veneration and adoration. He takes Buck’s hand and pulls him along, towards the bedroom, and Buck goes. He falls on the bed when Eddie pushes at him. 

“God, they’re so wrong about you.” Eddie says, hands pushing at Buck’s jacket until it slides off his shoulders. Eddie doesn’t fumble with the button-up, slipping it open one button at the time, warm fingers brushing against the naked skin of Buck’s chest, making him gasp at every touch. Once the shirt is gone too, Eddie kisses him again, pushes until Buck lays down on the mattress, head on the pillows. 

“Eddie.” He whispers, and his voice shakes horribly, he feels so untethered, the ground shaking under them, making his heart race and blood burn. “Eddie, what are you doing?”
“Relax, mi amor.” Eddie says, right across his lips, and in the warm light of the room, his eyes are dripping in gold. “Let me take care of you. Let me show you.” 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

Eddie kisses him before Buck can reply, and Buck lets him, threading his own fingers through Eddie’s hair, pulling at the soft strands gently. Eddie moans quietly in his mouth, and the sound is intoxicating, everything about Eddie is, always has been. 

Eddie’s lips slide off Buck’s mouth to press against his jaw instead, and then lower, down his neck, his collarbones. His tongue feels like a blessing on his body, morphine on his ruined psyche, fentanyl in his veins, just as addicting.

“They’re idiots.” Eddie whispers. “They don’t know the first thing about you.”
“Eddie.” He says, and his hands are shaking, twisted in Eddie’s hair. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, sliding reverent fingers and hungry lips across his chest. The air in chest is wet, sticky, like syrup, he can’t breathe. 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

“They don’t know how beautiful you are. How pretty you are when you smile.” Eddie says, quiet, a confession. He can’t breathe. Eddie’s hands brush against his ribs, he leaves kisses on each one, constellations made of red marks and finger-shaped bruises. “How bright you are, like sometimes- sometimes when you smile it’s like looking at the sun.” 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

“Eddie, wait.”
Eddie traces the edge of his tattoos with his tongue, sucks purple love bites over his heart. His hands burn on Buck’s body, third-degree burns on paper-thin skin, he’s not used to this, the gentleness, the softness, the kindness. People who fuck him, they don’t touch him like this, they never have. 

(But then, Eddie always does.) 

“They don’t know how smart you are, how many things you know. They don’t know how funny, and kind, and charming you are.” 

“Eddie.” He says, and it catches in his throat, drowned by the tears stuck there. 

Eddie’s breathing stutters, his lips press on Buck’s belly, he traces the arch of Buck’s back with reverent fingers, presses more bruises into his hips. His hands squeeze around Buck’s waist, marking the spot where to grab him, hold him, keep him. He wishes to be kept so badly it’s tearing him apart. It’s a want so deep, so old, it’s been lodged in his chest like a knife between his ribs since he can remember, his oldest memory. 

Every single one of Eddie’s words, every single one of his touches, makes the knife twist and sink that much deeper in his ribcage, past layers of bone and muscle and fat, until it’s pressing right against his heart.

(Focus, Evan.)

“You’re so bright, Buck.” Eddie whispers, and it sounds broken, like maybe this is hurting Eddie too. “You’re- you’re perfect, you’re so good to me, and- and to Chris, and to- to everyone you love.” Eddie looks up at him, and he can’t breathe. “You’re- I’ve never met anyone easier to love.” 

“Stop.”
“Buck-

“Red.” 

Eddie pulls back like he got burnt, and coldness washes over him, ice running in his veins. He sits up on the bed, running shaky hands through his hair, and over his face. 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

“Buck, are you okay?” 

“I can’t do this.” He chokes out. Eddie sits next to him, their shoulders brush and electricity cracks down between them. 

“What are you talking about, do what?” 

Eddie’s hands are hovering over him, like maybe he’s going to touch Buck, and that’s- that’s too much. It’s too much. 

“This!” He says, and it comes out in a scream, something horrible and broken and choked, ripped right out of his throat. He wipes at the tears on his face, stands, his hands are shaking and he can’t breathe and his heart is racing, and it’s too much, all of it. “This, you, u- us, I can’t keep- I can’t keep pretending like it doesn’t mean anything to me, not when- when it’s all I’ve ever wanted.” 

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

He stops, turns to look at Eddie, who’s staring at him with something dark in his eyes. It’s a look Buck recognizes. 

(It was there when Eddie got shot, when they found Shannon on the asphalt, when Buck was pinned under the engine.) 

Eddie’s scared. 

“Buck.” Eddie says, a warning. 

(Sick, he feels sick.)

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

“Eddie.” He whispers, and Eddie shakes his head, stands too. 

He looks at Eddie then, really looks, the face he knows better than his own, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the smile lines, the gentle curve of his lips, the crooked line of his nose. Eddie’s always been so beautiful. 

“You have to know.” He says, and Eddie shakes his head. “How I feel about you.” 

“Don’t.” Eddie breathes out. “Don’t, Buck, don’t- don’t say it.” 

(‘Love me anyway.’) 

“I’m in love with you.” He says, and the ground shakes below them, reality shifting to reassess itself after he just changed the very fabric of the universe. “Eddie, I’m in love with you. I’ve- I’ve been for a while, I think. Maybe- maybe since t-the beginning.” 

Eddie’s pale. He won’t look at him anymore. 

“Eddie.” He says, stepping closer, and Eddie flinches.

(Jesus Christ.) 

“Eddie, please.” 

“Buck.” Eddie sounds like he just got punched, wrecked, his eyes dark, he looks so incredibly sad. “Buck, I can’t- I’m not- I-

(Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus-

“I’m not- I’m not like you.” It’s what comes out in the end, and if he slapped Buck, it would have hurt less. 

“What?” 

“I’m not- I can’t- I- Buck.”