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“Would you hold still? This is very precise work. And close your eyes.”
“You’re not even putting anything on my eyes.” Eddie grumbles, squirming where he’s perched half-sitting against his dresser, head tilted up uncomfortably with Buck holding him in place, hand gripping his chin firmly. Strong but gentle, like Eddie might float away if he let go. “Can we just go sit in the dining room? In chairs?”
Buck pauses, leans back to assess his work. He uses his grasp on Eddie’s jaw to turn his head left and right. “No. The light is better in here. Stop being squirmy.”
Eddie huffs. “If you let me sit down, I’d stay still.”
Narrowing his eyes, Buck asks “promise?”
Eddie nods diligently.
Buck rolls his eyes, but smiles and says, “fine. Lay down on the bed.”
“Isn’t that gonna make it harder for you?” Eddie asks as he flops down, making himself comfortable against the pillows.
“Don’t worry about me,” Buck responds, grinning before swinging a leg over Eddie and settling in his lap.
Eddie’s eyes widen, his hands coming up to his chest, open wide, palm out. “Uh— what… are you doing?”
“Gotta get a good angle. Relax,” Buck says easily, like he didn’t just unscrew Eddie’s head and pop out his brain.
Buck leans down, close to Eddie’s face, close enough for him to feel Buck’s breath on his skin. His thighs wrapped around Eddie’s hips, his weight an intoxicating pressure on top of him. Buck takes hold of his jaw again, angling his head up a little. Oh. This feels good, really good.
Except, Eddie doesn’t know where to put his hands. He awkwardly holds them in the air until Buck shoves them down, says “seriously, just relax. Get comfy.” And he resumes painting Eddie’s face ghostly white.
He drops them to Buck’s thighs gently, barely a touch, a whisper of something that could be more. Buck’s hand stutters for a quick, unnoticeable moment. Eddie notices, would’ve noticed even if they weren’t mere inches from each other. Buck rushes along, moving to the next part of Eddie’s makeup.
When Hen announced that she and Karen planned an adults only Halloween party for the 118 and co., Eddie and Buck turned to each other, matching mischievous smiles stretching over their faces. Immediately, they started coming up with ideas for costumes, bickering over what the other should be. Ultimately, Eddie let Buck choose both their costumes, decided that because he came up with their bachelor party costumes, it’s Buck’s turn.
A vampire? Eddie had asked, when Buck told him his plan. Isn’t that kind of basic?
Can’t go wrong with a classic, Eddie. I’m going classic, too. And you’ll look so good. Plus, you already have the very cute little fangs, was Buck’s response. Eddie shook his head fondly, then asked to see what Buck had bought for their looks.
And Buck insisted that Eddie needed to let him do his makeup. Eddie said yes. Eddie would say yes if Buck asked for a kidney. Would pull it right out of his abdomen and hand it over, happily. Also, it’s fun. It reminds him of his ballroom dancing days, with the glitter and the dramatic outfits.
Buck’s already done with his own makeup. He’s an angel. Literally and metaphorically. His costume choice for himself was an angel. Eddie had to tease him about that a little, when Buck told him. His skin is shimmering with gold sparkly eyeshadow, dusted over his eyes and across his cheekbones. He looks ethereal, like something Eddie shouldn’t be allowed to touch.
And his costume. Eddie’s not even sure where he got it. The top— if you can even call it that—is made up of gathered chains and large fake jewels that catch and reflect the light in a way that keeps Eddie’s eyes glued to Buck’s chest. And it barely covers anything. It’s completely open, save for one clasp over his chest, and only reaches the bottom of his ribcage. Eddie kind of wants to keep him home, not let anyone else see him in it; that possessive beast growling in his chest, ready to snap and attack anyone who comes near Buck.
He’s also got big, white, fluffy wings made of faux feathers to wear around his broad shoulders. Eddie has to admit, they’re very cute.
Buck picked out Eddie’s outfit, too. He’s only slightly more covered up, clad in a billowy white button down, only buttoned to his navel. He’s also wearing black dress pants and suspenders. Part of the look includes fake blood, which Buck intends to cover Eddie in.
When Eddie got dressed, Buck told him he always kind of had a thing for Damon Salvatore, but that Damon doesn’t hold a candle to him. Eddie blushed down to his toes at that, stomach fluttering with a thousand butterflies.
Buck also got him a couple gaudy silver rings to wear, each one adorned with big shiny red or black stones. He styled Eddie’s hair, refusing to let Eddie slick it back with gel like always. It’s so much better soft, when it falls around your face, Eddie. It’s… more romantic, Buck had said.
Eddie actually feels really good. Buck told him he looks hot, so. He’s feeling pretty great about himself.
As Buck continues with Eddie’s makeup, Eddie takes the time to ogle Buck all he wants, cataloguing his features; the tip of Buck’s tongue poked out in concentration, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, eyes squinting.
“So, now what are you doing?” Eddie asks, his voice hushed, like he’s telling a secret. It feels like if he spoke louder, it would destroy the moment, like a flame snuffed out right as it caught. His fingers stroke gently against Buck’s thighs.
Buck leans in closer, bringing them nearly chest to chest, sweeping across the underneath of Eddie’s eye with a soft brush. “I just finished around your eyes… now I’m gonna do the blood around your mouth,” he murmurs.
“Okay,” Eddie breathes, so quiet Buck wouldn’t have heard it if they were further apart.
Buck leans over to grab the little jar of fake blood he brought from home, Eddie instinctively tightening his grip on Buck’s thighs to make sure he stays balanced. The jar is unlabelled, doesn’t look like it’s from a store. Eddie’s brow furrows looking at it, a curious look spreading across his face.
Buck looks down, his nose scrunching sheepishly. “I– I, uh, looked into recipes to make my own that’s safe to consume cause I knew it was gonna go around your mouth. It’s mostly corn syrup, it’ll just taste really sugary if you eat any.”
Eddie smiles. He loves Buck so much. He might be feeling cuteness aggression towards Buck. He wants to, like, lick Buck’s blushing cheeks, and also bite his neck hard enough to leave a mark.
“Maybe we shouldn’t do this part on my bed…” Eddie suggests, mildly concerned as Buck brings the small, deep scarlet stained jar in front of Eddie. His hands tighten around Buck’s thighs, a little contradictory to his words; hoping that Buck doesn’t leave his lap. Buck could stay in his lap forever, maybe.
Buck chuckles, a little breathless, “I’ll be careful,” he raises his hand to his forehead in a little mock salute, “scout’s honor.”
Eddie huffs a laugh, shaking his head fondly as Buck unscrews the cap and dips his finger into the jar, coming out slick with the sticky, red concoction. Eddie tracks Buck’s finger as he brings it up to his mouth, slow, hesitant, like this is what’s going to cross a line in their friendship. As if he’s not fully straddling Eddie. Like Eddie’s not gripping Buck’s thighs like he intends to never let go.
Buck’s eyes flicker to Eddie’s, a silent ask for permission.
Eddie sends him a look that says, get to it.
Buck snaps back into focus, setting the jar down on Eddie’s nightstand and bringing his finger up to trace the edge of Eddie’s lips, his gaze weighing heavy. The gentle touch makes all of Eddie’s organs vibrate in his abdomen. His heart hammers hard in his chest, hands gripping Buck’s thighs tighter. Buck’s slick finger spreads syrupy wetness along the corner of his mouth. Eddie’s lips part on a stuttered breath, giving Buck access to slip his finger just inside the curve of his lip, tracing his bottom row of teeth.
Eddie’s hands glide up to Buck’s hips. “Buck,” he murmurs.
Buck’s hips rock almost unconsciously down against Eddie, barely a movement; Eddie feels it like his own personal earthquake.
“Buck,” he repeats, tightening his hold on Buck’s hips, fingertips digging into the plush fat there, caressing the supple skin. Eddie could survive on the feel of Buck’s skin alone. No need for food or water when he can gorge himself on Buck.
“Hold still. Gotta do your neck and chest.” He dips back into the jar and ghosts his fingers down, avoiding Eddie’s neck, dragging them along his chest instead. He stains the edges of Eddie’s shirt, then pauses.
“Y’know, a vampire would have a bite mark on his neck,” Buck murmurs.
“Right. Isn’t that what the makeup’s for?”
Buck tilts his head, thinking. “Yeah. But it might smear, or–or fade from your shirt rubbing against it.”
Eddie hums, “I don’t think it’s that big of a deal, bud. It’s just Karen and Hen’s party. I can be a vampire with no mark.”
“No, no Eddie, I think it’s very important. How will people even know what you are?” Buck’s expression is unnecessarily serious. It’s unnecessarily endearing. “I… have an idea. Trust me?”
“Always,” Eddie replies immediately, no need to think about it even for a second. He smiles softly to himself.
He meant it, all those years ago when he said there’s no one he trusts more with his son than Buck. He still means that. It’s inherent, the trust and belief he has in Buck. It’s built into his genetic makeup. And he doesn’t just mean with Chris. There’s no one he trusts with his own feelings more than Buck. He’s never felt more safe to break apart than with Buck.
“Okay.” Buck’s eyes reach Eddie’s, sparkly blue meeting warm brown. He stares until his expression lightens, like he could read Eddie’s thoughts written across his face and found some kind of answer. He leans down, bringing them chest to chest; Eddie’s sure Buck can feel his heartbeat, it’s racing, ready to beat right out of his chest and make a home inside Buck’s own.
“Just. Stay still, okay?” Buck whispers, close. Close enough that Eddie could count his eyelashes, thinks maybe he should. Another thing he should know about Buck. Eddie thinks there shouldn’t be anything he doesn’t know about Buck.
Without another word, Buck sneaks down and attaches his mouth to the side of Eddie’s neck.
Eddie gasps, eyes widening as one of his hands instinctively comes up to tangle in Buck’s hair on the back of his head. Buck sucks a bit of Eddie’s skin between his teeth, grazing sharp.
“Buck— Buck, what—” Eddie gasps, unable to force any other words from his mouth, lost in the feeling of Buck’s lips, his tongue, his teeth on his neck. Eddie doesn’t use the hand in Buck’s hair to push him back, to stop him. No, he uses his grip to pull him in closer, to make sure he doesn’t stop; Eddie hopes he never stops.
Buck pauses his assault to soothe the spot on Eddie’s throat with his tongue. He pulls back to assess his work, lips red and glossy with spit.
And, Eddie’s brain has turned off. He’s thinking nothing except Buck’slipsBuck’stongueBuck’smouthonmeBuckBuckBuck. So, he can’t exactly stop himself from hauling an already out of breath Buck up to crash their lips together.
The kiss is immediately messy, slick, as Eddie bullies his tongue into Buck’s mouth. Buck welcomes it, whining into Eddie’s mouth.
Eddie fully loses himself in Buck. He’s drunk on the taste of him, the sugary sweetness from the homemade cupcakes they had after dinner and something else that’s just Buck.
Finally getting to feel Buck’s lips against his own—a little chapped, mostly soft—makes him feel like he’s reached nirvana, like his chakras have aligned, like he’s found the Garden of Eden. To him, Buck is paradise.
Eddie bites at Buck’s lip and tugs. He uses his hold on Buck’s hips to guide him into a grind, both of them letting out matching groans at the feeling of their growing erections against each other even through multiple layers of clothes.
And, oh. That’s a feeling. That’s a feeling Eddie likes a lot. It’s so undeniably man. There’s no mistaking that there is a man on top of him, a hard length against his own. And not just any man. Buck. The thought makes Eddie’s cock twitch in his pants.
Buck pulls back, breaking the kiss, looking deep into Eddie’s eyes. He’s a mess. He’s out of breath, panting, they both are. His mouth is stained by Eddie’s, the fake blood smeared all the way down to his chest. Eddie’s sure it’s smeared all over him, too. His hair is frizzy and mussed up from Eddie’s hands, his cheeks are flushed, pink and bright. He’s so beautiful. The last thing Eddie wants right now is to not be kissing him.
“Eddie, what are we— is this— is this okay?”
Eddie’s nodding before Buck even finishes speaking. “Yes, yes. Please. Please don’t stop.”
Buck’s tongue darts out to wet his kiss-puffy lips. Eddie tracks the movement, then tugs Buck back down, nipping at his jaw. He tries to urge Buck’s hips to continue their motion, but Buck remains still on his lap.
“Buck, come on,” Eddie mumbles, mouth still hot against his jaw. He’s so turned on he can’t breathe, he just needs Buck to move.
Buck doesn’t respond, just leans back a fraction, looking deep into Eddie’s eyes, gaze hungry and wanting. Eddie might melt right into the bed, cease to exist, cause of death: Evan Buckley.
Buck keeps their eyes locked together as he slowly slides his hand down Eddie’s chest, pausing to brush his thumb over Eddie’s nipple, sending a shiver up his spine. His hand continues its path down Eddie’s body, stopping when he reaches the hot bulge in his pants, his hand cupping around it and squeezing gently.
Eddie moans. He hitches his hips up, pushing himself further into Buck’s hand, seeking more friction, more attention. Buck strokes him through the cotton of his pants, encouraging Eddie’s movements.
“Wait. You, too,” Eddie whispers, reaching his hand down to stroke Buck’s length. Buck smiles, soft, leans down and kisses Eddie. It’s gentle, chaste; a sharp contrast to what their hands are doing. Eddie deepens it with haste, slipping his tongue inside Buck’s mouth, mapping it out— the back of his teeth, his tongue, the roof of his mouth. Buck lets Eddie take the lead, opening his mouth wide, letting Eddie essentially fuck his tongue in. Drool escapes Buck’s mouth, slips down his chin. Eddie retracts his tongue from its home beside Buck’s to lick it up, earning a guttural groan from the man on top of him. It tastes sugary, Eddie belatedly realizes it’s the fake blood he’s tasting.
Eddie reaches his other hand down, unbuttoning Buck’s pants. Buck leans his weight on one knee to give Eddie better access, never separating their lips. Eddie slips his hand inside Buck’s trousers, inside his briefs to feel Buck’s hot skin, his throbbing cock. He’s wet, already slicking up Eddie’s hand as he thumbs at the leaking head.
Buck breaks away from Eddie’s mouth to whine, smearing sloppy kisses all over Eddie’s face— his chin, his cheeks, between his brows. Eddie grins as he strokes his hand up and down Buck’s cock, faster, tightening his fist a little when it reaches the tip. Buck ruts his hips down into Eddie’s hand, his ministrations on Eddie’s dick through his pants stuttering but not stopping.
“F-fuck, Eddie. Eddie, I’m—I’m close.”
“Yeah?” Eddie pants, smirking as he slows his hand to a snail’s pace, pulling Buck back from his orgasm, tugging him away from the edge right before he can tumble over.
Buck whimpers, a sound Eddie wants to hear forever and ever, wants to make it his alarm ringtone or something.
“Eddie, please. Don’t tease,” Buck whines, dropping his head, his forehead coming to rest on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie turns his head to suck bruises into the side of Buck’s neck, up to the spot right below his ear. His hand speeds back up as Buck pushes his own hand into Eddie’s pants and underwear, stroking him fast and a little dry.
“Buck, Oh my God,” Eddie pants, teetering on the edge of orgasm already, embarrassingly fast for a little dry humping and one touch to his dick. But this is Buck. Buck who is so good and kind and so painfully attractive that Eddie feels sick with it sometimes.
Eddie connects their mouths again, both too on edge for it to be a real kiss, just heavily panting into each other’s mouth, sharing air.
Buck reaches his peak a minute before Eddie, his whole body freezing up, his mouth dropping open wide, eyes squeezed shut. He paints Eddie’s hand and some of his torso with come. Eddie watches in awe; he’s sure this is the most erotic thing he’s ever had the privilege to watch.
“Eddie,” Buck breathes out, strangled, voice rough as sandpaper, lost in bliss.
Buck groaning Eddie’s name, lost in pleasure is what tips Eddie over the line.
Pleasure overtakes his entire body. He feels like he’s shining with it, like he’s being consumed by light. He coats Buck’s hand with his release, then slumps down into the bed like his strings have been cut. Buck collapses against his chest, earning a soft oof from Eddie as his head tucks into the crook of Eddie’s neck.
Buck leans back up. “Am I too heavy?” he asks jokingly.
Eddie immediately tugs him back down, guiding his head back to its spot on Eddie’s shoulder, wrapping his arms tightly around Buck. “No. Don’t move. Don’t get up. Ever.”
Buck chuckles, the air puffed out ghosting over Eddie’s bruised neck, making him shiver. “Well, we have to get up soon, we have a party to get to.”
Eddie laughs. A loud, bright, joyful laugh. Buck pulls back, letting Eddie sit up a little against the pillows. Buck joins in laughing, pressing his forehead to Eddie’s.
Their laughter subsides and they’re left just looking at each other. Soft smiles, messy hair, swollen lips. It’s peaceful. It feels so safe, the kind of safe that only Buck can provide for Eddie. Eddie reaches a hand up to pet Buck’s birthmark, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Buck’s lips.
And Buck laughs again, right in his face.
Through his giggles, Buck says, “God, Eddie, you’re a mess.” He runs a hand through Eddie’s hair, tugging teasingly.
Eddie scoffs, “Me? I’m a vampire, I can get away with blood all over me. You’re the mess.”
Buck grins, smug, “I wasn’t talking about the blood.”
Eddie’s cheeks heat. He remembers that his chest is spotted with come and his neck is marked with what is, presumably, one or more dark, purplish bruises.
“Do you think Hen and Karen would notice if we didn’t show?”
“But I worked so hard on our costumes,” Buck pouts, bottom lip jutting out.
Eddie smacks a kiss to Buck’s lips. “I know. And the thought of anyone else seeing you in that top makes me a little insane. Maybe I should write Property of Eddie Diaz across your stomach.”
Buck grins, gesturing to his neck, “I think you kind of already did that.”
Eddie blushes impossibly redder, “Think anyone would buy that this is a couples’ costume? Vampire and the slutty angel he killed?”
Buck smacks Eddie’s chest, “Hey, I never said this was a slutty angel costume.”
“Baby, you didn’t have to. Look at it.” He runs his hands down Buck’s chest, feeling the chains, warmed from Buck’s flushed skin.
Buck looks down at himself, a protest on his tongue as Eddie angles his head back up with a hand in his hair, captures his lips in a deep, languid kiss, pulling him back down against him. They lazily make out like that for a few minutes before Buck pulls back again, Eddie chasing his lips.
“Maybe I’ll just text Hen that we both came down with something, suddenly.”
Eddie giggles, peppering kisses all over Buck’s face.