Chapter Text
Going on the internet to watch porn should not be this anxiety-inducing for a self-sufficient person. He has the house to himself, he’d come to terms with multiple life-changing truths, and he’s a grown ass man who just wanted to try something new.
Because Eddie knows, okay? He knows and he mostly accepts it, even if saying the words out loud to anyone other than Chris has proven impossible. He did the soul searching, put in the work, took time to look at it from every angle, and while the label isn’t clear yet, perhaps ever, he’s definitely attracted to men as well. The other parts of it are murky, swamped as they are in Catholic guilt and a relentless family-driven need to be a man’s man. Ironic, he’d told Frank, and Frank regaled him with a smile.
So he’s sitting in bed, lights dimmed, laptop opened, incognito tab ready to go. And: blank. It’s silly to just google “gay” like he’s an unsupervised teen on the internet for the first time. And it’s not like he hadn’t read up on it or like he’s going in blindly. Research had gone into it, if only to give him context and some peace of mind with it.
From his head to the keyboard is a different thing. So he browses, ends up on a website that seems to draw videos from everywhere; he ignores “friend” and “straight guy” and “pretty” and “BDSM” although the thumbnails looked interesting, if a bit too much or too close to -
He clicks on “solo.” He could watch a hot man rub one out, right? Could enjoy it, join him even. He works the filters, ignores monster dildos and sounding and fucking machines. Instead, he clicks on “hot stud shows you how he loves it touched” - unassuming title, but the thumbnail shows these strong thighs and big hands covering the man’s dick while rubbing it - almost coyly. Eddie’s maybe a bit horny and maybe a bit in denial. Alas.
The video is clearly amateur porn, from the less-than stellar quality, to the worn out armchair the man is sitting on, wearing boxers that cover the bulge of his half-hard dick. There’s no face, and the angle of the video only shows up to the man’s mid-torso, a tiny peek of a nipple as he arches into his own touch.
There’s some background sound, none from the man, not even as he cups himself and gives a playful squeeze. At most, a breath while both his hands dip and settle on the tendons of his thighs, now spread further apart. He tightens the thick fingers, framing his groin, dick now fully hard.
Responsive, Eddie’s brain supplies, and he hisses when readjusting the laptop means his fingers brush on his equally hard dick. Also responsive, Eddie thinks uselessly.
The man’s fingers disappear into his boxers. So do Eddie’s, unable to help mimicking the video. He’s enraptured, both by the act itself and the man doing it, with the little puffs of air that come out as he starts enjoying himself.
Eddie stays quiet although his dick twitches when the man starts pushing his boxers down. His knees lift to make it easier and Eddie is gifted with long legs he thinks would look beautiful wrapped around his waist. He gasps quietly.
The man uses both hands to run up and down himself - the thumbnail; except this time, the wet head peeks out through the opening between his thumb and index, glistening and flushed. His other hand goes down to cup his balls, presses behind them and then pulls on them a little.
Eddie’s breath stutters and he tightens his hand on his hard dick. This won’t last long, and that’s a blessing since the video is only seven minutes long. Two in already, and Eddie sighs softly when the man moves his thigh up on the arm of the chair, opening up to the camera. His hole is covered by the angle, and Eddie does not blush at the term. He does not, but his cheeks do redden when the man dips a finger just to tease.
The man starts moving his hand - Eddie mirrors him; he has an objectively beautiful dick, if Eddie even has that concept. He does, he absolutely does, if the way his mouth waters at the foreskin moving up and down under the man’s right hand. He drops his leg, lifts his other one, and Eddie stops just when he was about to venture lower and have his own teasing touch to his hole. Not the first time, but never like this, never so horny it makes his brow sweat.
Eddie stops and squeezes tight because right there on the inside of the man’s thigh, an inch and a bit from the strong tendon, there’s two tiny moles. Eddie pauses the video and honest to god considers hiding his face.
He knows moles like these, and has seen them before when he wasn’t looking at his best friend stretching in obscenely short shorts after his morning run.
Eddie is insane. This cannot be Buck - Buck has tattoos and a scar on his hipbone that’s missing from here, and Eddie almost, almost groans when he checks the details of the video. Posted seven years ago. He hits the space bar and the video resumes.
That’s okay, Buck probably got his tattoos early so this couldn’t be - the man’s running the back of his hand up and down his abs, thigh muscles contracting in pleasure. On the second run-by, Eddie does groan, then gasps, then sighs, then almost cries - in whatever order all these sounds decide to come out.
On the man’s wrist is an x-shaped scar. Eddie could paint it from memory with how much he’d touched it every time he’d checked Buck’s pulse, and used it as an anchor whenever Buck was unconscious in hospital. He got it after a dare, Eddie’s heard the story at least three times.
Jesus fucking Christ.
The man’s hand speeds up, and Eddie, unable to stop himself, in a display of pure selfishness, joins him and matches him stroke for stroke.
This is Buck, no matter how much Eddie wants to deny it, no matter how much logic he applies to it. Now that the idea is in his head, he can’t stop noticing things. The one freckle on his ribcage, the fine hairs on his strong forearms. Buck is definitely younger and missing so many of his tattoos and scars, but when he grips the base of his dick and drags up to squeeze at the head, the sigh he lets out seals the deal for Eddie.
Six minutes into the video, Eddie has to pull his hand away a second from coming. Because this is Buck, and while he’s too far gone to fully stop and close the tab, go shower and definitely not think about his stupidly hot best friend, what he truly wants is to come at the same time as Buck.
So he slows down, squeezes and plays with the head when Buck does, imagines his hand on Buck, imagines how he’d taste - he’s so wet, precome making him glisten. When Buck speeds up, so does Eddie. And when Buck arches his back and shoots all over himself, so much - Eddie comes in his sweatpants, dick not even out, a moan piercing the silence of the room just as Buck sighs on his screen.
The video ends. Eddie is left panting, mind black other than the static sound of having come brutally hard. And his dick twitches as he runs the images through his head. There’s too much latent energy in him, even when he can breathe properly for the first time in what seems like forever. Probably is.
He made himself come not only to a video of a man jerking off, but to a man that is most likely, definitely Buck.
He plays the video again and ignores his dick in favour of cataloguing all of the traits he recognises as being Buck’s. When Buck comes again, Eddie’s biting his lip to ground himself.
He plays the ending of the video again, just to make sure the image of Buck’s come is embedded in his brain forever.
He gets up, washes his dick in the sink, gets rid of his underwear, and sits on the edge of the bed. The stupid urge to smoke a cigarette hits him, and he snorts at the stereotype he’s become. Except, how many people can say they masturbated to their best friend masturbating. Okay, a lot probably, statistically, given the population and -
Eddie’s hand is on his phone before he knows what he’s doing. No time to panic, Buck picks up on the second ring. “Hi, Eds!” The TV volume goes down in the background.
Eddie can’t form words.
“Eddie?” Nothing, his tongue is lead. “Eddie you okay, bud? Are you hurt?” Buck’s tone takes a cautious turn.
Eddie wants to scream. He snorts instead, cause yeah, what the fuck else was he to do? “Buck.” That’s all he’s got, the only word that pervades his brain.
“I’m here.” Eddie wishes he was. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I - I wanted to hear you, I guess.” He pauses. “How are you?” he asks lamely.
“Bored out of my fucking mind; Maddie cancelled on me and I think I officially ran out of Netflix.”
Eddie can’t breathe, this man is so fucking cute. “Disney, then?” He says instead of “I want to lick come off your tits.” Instead of “I didn't know what I felt was not platonic, how was I to know that wanting to live with your best friend and share a bed and cuddle every night can be a bit gay of me?”
“That’s for Friday nights at yours, you know that,” Buck admonishes happily.
Eddie does, and his stomach swoops at Buck’s thoughtfulness. “Yeah, that’s fair.”
“Bud, what’s up? You want to hang out? Come over or we can go out or I can come by with a sixpack or -“
“Yeah, sure, but can we be on the phone? Just a bit longer?”
Buck’s smile comes across in his voice when he says, “Whatever you need, Eds.”
Eddie gives himself a mental slap on the back for not barking “you!” Instead he says, “I was watching something earlier…” And he officially has no control over his mouth or what comes out of it.
Buck’s tone perks up at that. “Yeah? Anything good?”
Eddie bites his lip. Then chews on it. “… yeah. Real good.”
“Oh, tell me the title, I’ll give it a go.”
Eddie is going insane. Possibly forever. “You may have seen it actually?”
Buck laughs. “I do watch a lot of things, to be honest. Oh, did I tell you about the documentary on MLMs? It’s technically a youtube video, but it’s so well put together and -“
“Hot stud shows you how he likes it touched,” Eddie says in one breath, and yep, no control whatsoever. He stops breathing altogether.
On the other end of the call there’s silence and the murmur of the tv. A beat, two. “Yeah?” Buck asks, and he sounds as affected as Eddie feels; he wonders if he’s as flushed as Eddie is.
“Mhm,” Eddie hums and it seems he’s lost the ability to form sentences now. “Real good,” he repeats stupidly.
Buck’s intake of breath is so similar to the video that Eddie almost groans out loud. His hand starts moving to cup himself, but he stops it stubbornly. This is different, this is not a video, and whatever line he crossed with that, this is infinitely more dangerous.
“Was it?” Buck gives him nothing. His breath is short, almost like he’s talking over his full lungs. For someone as verbose as him, this would usually be cause for concern. Eddie almost wishes they were on FaceTime instead. Almost.
“Best thing I’ve ever seen.” And there it is, brain to mouth filter not found. He finally exhales properly.
Buck’s gasp almost goes unnoticed, but Eddie’s so attuned to all his micro expressions and sounds, even more so now, with additional context. “How did you -“
“The little moles on your inner thigh. The scar on your wrist. The sigh.”
Buck sighs at that, and Eddie’s mostly sure it’s not conscious. “The moles?”
“Mhm, saw them so many times I could recognise them in a lineup.”
Buck laughs, a short thing that sounds inherently happy. “You’ve been checking out my inner thighs then, Diaz?”
“Even before I knew I liked men,” he blurts out. Then adds, “always,” for good measure.
Buck’s silent again, and Eddie tries to not spiral. There’s quiet rustling on the other side, like Buck’s sinking into his sofa. “Always?”
And what is this, repeat-what-Eddie-says day? Buck sounds incredulous, and Eddie can’t have that. He runs through what he wants to say as quickly as he can, wants to not let the silence take hold. “You know you’re objectively hot, Buck.” And there’s a joking admonishing edge to it.
“Sure,” Buck says simply. “Didn’t realise that it included subjectively too, not to you.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve been drowning in denial.”
Buck laughs again and Eddie can’t help his smile. “Are you making a pun right now? Is that what you’re doing?”
“I’m meeting you halfway,” Eddie answers.
“So, you watched all of it? Didn’t turn it off when you realised?” Buck’s wits seem to have returned enough to ask follow up questions.
Eddie sighs. “Watched it twice,” he admits cause he’s too far in it already. “Well two and a half, really.”
Buck takes a second. “And did you - I mean, how did you - did you -“
The half aborted sentences make Eddie smile. He’s trying to be considerate, a safe place for Eddie to unpack and discover, making himself unassuming and as friendly as he can be. “I matched you stroke for stroke,” he offers casually. He’s feeling the opposite of casual, vibrating with want and need and giddiness and terror.
Buck gasps with his full chest. Eddie can picture his face. “Eddie…” Buck starts again, and it’s not an easily distinguishable voice; Eddie feels a bit untethered.
“I’m sorry,” he says, reality catching up to him. He’d masturbated to a video or Buck masturbating, and then he called to tell him about it. Eddie doesn’t believe in it, but he could, maybe, be possessed. “I shouldn’t have - and then I shouldn’t have called -“
“Tell me about it,” Buck says quietly and breathlessly.
“Sorry?”
“Tell me about how you matched me stroke for stroke.”
“You’re not mad?” Eddie hates that his voice is so insecure, this is Buck even if new-territory-Buck.
“I have absolutely zero negative feelings about this,” Buck chuckles. “Okay, just tell me… tell me what you thought.”
Eddie takes a second. Two. He exhales and speaks with such little air in his lungs, it makes him dizzy. “I thought you were beautiful,” he offers quietly. Takes two more seconds. Doubts himself, arms himself with all the bravery he’d ever felt. Speaks louder. “The second time I watched it just to pick up on what was you,” he tries for nonchalant, probably misses the mark by miles. He’s on a roll, though. “I wasn’t bothered by it before I knew, but as soon as I let myself believe it was you, I wanted to see your face.”
“Jesus Christ,” Buck whispers. “I, um. Shit. You can’t just say that!”
Buck’s indignation gives Eddie new energy. He can go toe to toe with Buck on any day, their banter honed over years of interaction. This he can do.
“No?” he asks sarcastically. “I can’t say how I timed it just right?”
Buck’s moan is a quiet but unmistakable sound. “Right for what?” Buck’s questions are usually fired one after the other; this is rare, to have rendered him so focused he can only prompt with one at a time.
He hears him inhale, ready to add to it probably, but Eddie will win this battle. “To finish half a second after you.” He’s fully smirking now, can feel it splitting his face; he kinda wishes he could see Buck’s reaction to it.
“Fuck,” Buck says, simple and devastating.
“Okay,” Eddie laughs, but there’s no joke.
“Did you want to touch me?” Leave it to Buck to throw a curveball.
“Yes,” he answers immediately. “Wanted it to be my hand on you.” This is insane, he thinks, then adds, “wanted you to look me in the eye when I touch you.”
“Please,” Buck whispers. “How?” And wow, down to one word questions.
“Slowly. The way you did at first.” Eddie could draw it from memory, if he had the talent. “Not too tight, just to feel you. Jesus, Buck, you get so wet.”
“Always have,” he says. “It’s um, a lot.”
Eddie’s winning alright, but he needs to jolt Buck. Just for the fun of it, for the rush of affection. And look, Eddie’s not vain, not really, but he’s also not stupid. He knows what he looks like. He has flirted before. Even with Buck at times, jokingly, choosing to ignore the familiar pull. “I thought it would look so pretty on my lips and cheeks.”
“Tell me,” Buck begs.
Eddie hums. “I bet it would look so good running down my chin, spit and all.”
If it didn’t make his blood boil, he’d be inclined to believe he was having an out of body experience. As it is, he feels this terrible need everywhere, a longing he’d never stopped to feel before; all past experiences, mostly pleasant, lacked the feral need he had right now to make Buck want him, desperately.
“On your tongue?” It’s the most Buck said in a while.
“Yes. Wherever you want, baby.”
“Fuck. On your pretty face, paint your cheeks and jaw and collarbone with it.” There he is. “You probably wouldn’t even have to touch me, just let me look at you.”
He can’t help it, hand flying to squeeze the base of his now very hard dick. “Is that so? I’m thinking… on my knees for you?”
“Eddie, what - Jesus,” he repeats. “I didn’t even know - how -“
Back to half sentences and words. That’s okay, Eddie can work with that just fine. Now he can, possessed as he is by this devastating need for Buck. “Are you hard right now? Are you hard for me, baby?”
The small laugh sounds punched out of Buck. “Pretty much since you called. Haven’t really um, touched myself, thought maybe it was rude?”
Eddie has to chuckle cause he’d had that thought. Stupidly, as if they weren’t having phone sex right now. For a second be panics, then soldiers on. “Are you wet for me, too?”
“Yes,” Buck gasps.
“Tell me. Describe it to me, baby.”
Buck curses under his breath, inhale-exhale, then with typical Buck bravery, he goes on. “There’s a wet patch on my boxers. I haven’t - I haven’t even touched myself and you got me leaking everywhere.”
Eddie’s brain shortcircuits. He’d watched a version of Buck jerk off and thought the filthiest things, but to hear Buck say it - “Send me a picture? You don’t have to, obviously, and I’ll delete it and make sure it doesn’t -“ His phone pings in his ear. His breath stutters.
“Keep it.”
He reaches blindly on his nightstand, grabs his airpods and puts them in with shaking hands. He wonders absently why he’d not done it before. “Wait, let me -,” he says. “- holy fuck.”
Buck’s wearing bright red boxers. The photo’s taken from his upper chest, showing the planes of his contracted abs - Eddie doesn’t look at the bulge properly, not yet - with thick muscular thighs spread open, coffee table blurred in the background between them. Buck’s hipbones are jutting out due to his position. It all takes a second to notice, and then Eddie hones in.
“Jesus, holy fuck,” he repeats a bit starstruck. Buck’s dick is so hard, he can clearly see its outline, rigid and inviting; it’s tenting his boxers from under an impressive wet patch. The stain is darker in the center, right where Eddie envisions the flushed head and the slowly trickling precome from Buck’s slit. He wonders how his dick changed since the video. He wonders how long Buck would let him lick at him through the fabric, how much he could indulge.
“Yeah?” Buck asks breathlessly.
“So fucking beautiful,” Eddie says, voice reverent. “I kinda want to live between your legs for a while.”
“Shit.”
“Mhm, just lick you up and down and mouth at you. Over your boxers.” He’s now painfully hard in his pants, so with a hiss, he reaches in and cups himself.
“Are you -“
“Am I teasing my dick with my palm while thinking about your thighs and how they’d feel around my head? You bet,” Eddie chuckles.
This time, Buck’s moan is loud and unabashed. “Whatever you want, Eds. Anything you want.”
“God, Buck, I want to touch you everywhere. I want to spread you over my lap, face up so I can see your eyes. You’re so stupidly pretty.”
Buck gasps, then there’s some rustling, then the sound gets clearer; Buck’s put airpods in too, also slow on the uptake. “Are you hard because of me?” There’s some smugness in his voice, Eddie knows all of Buck’s voices by heart, but also a needy breathlessness.
Eddie snorts, frankly inelegant and borderline funny. “Baby, I’ve not stopped being hard since I clicked the link.”
“But you finished with me.” Eddie thinks maybe Buck’s brain is a bit sluggish right now and that’s okay, so is his. And doesn’t hearing Buck say that twist something in his gut?
“Yes, so?”
“Oh, fuck. Jesus, Eddie.”
“Tell me, baby, come on. What’s on your mind?”
His phone pings from the side where he’d left it. He grabs it so quickly, it’s a bit embarrassing. Buck’s sent another photo: his boxers are down to his mid-thighs, soaked and stretched with how his thick legs open. He’s holding the lower half of his dick, foreskin pulled down just a bit, wet with precome, and the head flushed the prettiest shade of a blush he’d ever seen. Buck’s not even squeezing, just resting his stupidly beautiful dick on the paw that is his hand. Even by comparison, it still looks huge and possibly the most appealing thing Eddie has ever seen.
He realises he’s been quiet only when Buck asks quietly, “Sorry, was that too much?”
“Fuck, no! I’m just - shit. Buck, it was hot when it was a random video on the internet, but this is for me. Do you even know how hot this is? How much I want to fall on my knees for you right this fucking second?”
“Eddie…”
But Eddie’s once again on a roll. He runs his hand up and down his dick; he has no control over his moan. “Baby, I’ve never thought about it like this. Sure, some intrusive thoughts, but now? Oh, Buck. Now I want to worship you.”
“You do?” Buck sounds like he still doesn’t get it.
So Eddie pushes down the tiny bit of panic that tries to take over. He arches his back, lets his dick rest on his stomach, and as an afterthought he makes an opening with his fist to push the head through. Eddie’s not taken a dirty photo in forever, not since phones got upgraded to good quality cameras, so he takes a second to check it, but his brain is wired only on BuckBuckBuck. He sends it.
Instantly, he hears Buck go, “Fuuuuck. Oh, fuck.”
“I thought it’s fair to level the field, right?” He’s lazily pumping his dick now.
Buck’s quiet for a second. “I’ve seen you naked before but not hard, and I’ve never let myself look.”
“But you wanted to?”
“Every fucking time,” he confirms. “Had to physically talk myself into looking away, not perve on my straight best friend.”
“No longer straight,” Eddie says lightly.
“Shit. Okay, okay. Eddie? Eddie, I need you to talk to me.”
“What do you want to know, baby?” He’s teasing and has no regrets.
“Tell me how it feels.”
“So fucking good. Even better than earlier, since I can hear your voice. Better since I know it’s all for me and not strangers on the internet.”
“All for you,” Buck gasps.
A shiver runs through him. “Is all that dick just for me, baby? Are you hard and wet and needy because I made you so?”
“Not the first time,” Buck says through his teeth.
“Is that so?” Eddie pulls at his balls, and watches amused as his dick twitches in his shorts.
“So many times, Eds. And I’d feel so guilty after, thinking how much of an asshole I am to jerk off to my best friend.”
Eddie’s head is swimming. “Baby.” He tries again. “Cariño, the things I want to do to you.” He doesn’t let Buck ask before he goes on. “Want to get to my knees for you, bite the inside of your thighs until you’re covered in teeth marks and bruises.” Buck gasps. “Want to put those ridiculous legs on my shoulders and keep you there while I kiss you up and down and tease you.”
“Fuck.” One-word sentences, good.
“Mhmm, I’ve never really thought of sucking dick before. I don’t know if I’m any good at it, to be honest. But, Jesus, Buck, I want to do that for you. Want to make you come over and over again, until you’re shaking and only remember my name.” Words just pour out of him and he has no intention of stopping them.
“You’re so fucking hot,” Buck says. “So unbelievably hot. Just your hand on me, Eds, and I’d shoot like a hose. You don’t even know how much I want you, do you?”
“I want to lick all that precome off you, baby. Dip my tongue in the slit just to get it all before it slips down. Want your dick in my mouth, just the tip,” he chuckles, “so I can get both my hands on the rest of you.”
“Holy shit. Okay, okay, Eddie? I’m fucking up into my fist, just so you know. My legs are shaking and I wish you were here more than anything.”
Eddie pauses. He’s jumped so many lines it might as well have been a hurdles race. What’s one more? “I could be.”
“Oh, fuck.”
“Okay,” he agrees again, just in case Buck didn’t get it. “I can be at yours in 20 minutes, and have my mouth on you in 23.”
“Why the delay?” Buck asks amused.
“I want to kiss you properly before,” he answers casually.
And that makes Buck moan louder than anything else. “Please?”
“Let me hear you come first baby, let me make you come just like this.” Quiet on the other end, other than Buck panting. “Yes?”
“Jesus Christ, yes, yes!”
“What do you need, baby? Want me to tell you how I want you? How I want to do everything with you now that I know it’s possible?”
“Yes, talk to me, anything you want. Your voice, Eddie,” and that’s definitely a whine.
He doesn’t do it consciously, he doesn’t think so anyway, but his voice goes lower still, and he’s unable to stop himself. “I think I want you spread out on the couch for me, baby. Want to bury my face in you, run my nose on the inside of your thighs, kiss those little moles, want my tongue on your balls, want to take them in my mouth and kiss them. Want to jerk you off slowly while I tease your balls, behind them.”
“More,” Buck pants. “Please.”
“Want to pull your foreskin down, like I saw you do in the video. There’s a vein I want to lick, just to hear you moan prettily for me.” Buck does, the sound ringing in Eddie’s ears. “Yes, just like that. Want to circle my tongue on you, lick down, then up, then all around again.” He’s pulling at his own dick even more desperately than the first time, when the new knowledge that it had been Buck spurred him on.
On the other end, Buck’s been reduced to sounds. Good. Eddie goes on, fucking up into his hand. “I don’t know if I can take you down my throat yet, but fuck, baby, I want to try. Want to push forward, down and down until I choke with it. I want there to be nothing but you in my head.”
“Eddie, please. Would you look up at me? Red cheeks, mouth full?” He sounds breathless and gone, really.
“You want me to bat my lashes at you, bud? Want me to make a show of it?”
“Yes. I always want you looking at me,” he admits.
“I always am, Buck. You want me to show you my tongue, how wet you made it? I want to reach up and squeeze - your tits.” Buck gasps again. “Want you to keep my hands on your chest, hold me there so I can play with your nipples while I take you in my mouth over and over again.”
“I want a hand in your hair,” Buck breathes out.
“So hold my hands with that big hand of yours, press my head down with the other. Simple.”
“No, not press, just to hold, to feel you close.”
Eddie’s heart gives a valiant jolt. He says softly, “Okay, Buck. I don’t know if I could do it just yet, but maybe after some practice?” Even through the horny fog, he’s filled with trepidation at the thought of repeat performances. Of calling Buck his own. His dick throbs in his fist.
As usual, Buck seems to read his mind. “Mine,” he says firmly. “As much as you want, as many times as you want, baby.”
And the possessiveness - the pet name courses through Eddie like electric current. “Yeah?” he asks when his brain can’t come up with anything else. “Say it again,” he demands.
“Baby, you’re mine,” he moans.
“Then you should come for me. You should fuck your hand and think of my mouth and make yourself come for me.”
“Oh, fuck. Tell me again, again please!”
“Pull your foreskin down, stay like that for a second.” Eddie feels drunk with it all. Buck moans loudly, unashamed. “Show me,” Eddie whispers.
Half a minute and he’s staring at Buck’s wet, hard dick. “Fuck, baby, so beautiful. So fucking pretty, all for me. Up and down, Buck, come on, squeeze at the top.”
“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck, Eddie.”
“Yes, cariño, tell me.”
“I want to come, I need to. Please please please,” Buck sounds almost delirious.
Eddie speeds up his own hand, wants to try and time it again. “Just think about it, Buck. You can have all of me, all of me just belonging to you. You can touch me and kiss me and tease me and fuck me, and make me come all for you.” It doesn’t occur to him that he’s presumptuous in thinking all of him would be enough, cause Buck moans steadily now, and Eddie can almost see his hand moving like it did in the video. He’s again tempted to ask to switch to FaceTime, but he’s already made up his mind that he’d drive over this very night. And seeing it in person will be a treat; he can hold on for that.
“Mine,” Buck says in a strangled tone. “Just for me, made for me,” he babbles.
“Mhm, I think I’ve always been yours, baby.” Unfiltered. Fuck it. His hand is flying on his dick now, unable to stop, unwilling to stop, really. “I’m so fucking hard for you, you make me so hard.” He’s got his heels planted in the bed now and he’s frantically thrusting up into both of his hands.
“You’re gonna make me come, Eds, I’m so fucking close, so close, so close.” Even with the headphones and their background noise suppression, Eddie can hear faint wet sounds. Obscene, really.
“Good, Buck, you’re doing so good.” The effect the praise has on him should not surprise Eddie, but the drawn out moan and cursing goes down to his dick instantaneously. He takes it and runs with it. “You want to be good for me, baby? Want to make that big beautiful cock come everywhere? Without me touching it, just with my voice in your ears?”
“Please, so close -“
“That’s my come you’re chasing, baby. I did that and that’s mine.” He can’t stop talking. “I’ll spend hours on you, finger you open until you come just on my fingers, yeah? No touching your poor dick, I just want to see you leak and leak and be taken by surprise by how fucking good it is. How good you are, coming all for me, just for me.” He’s two seconds away from coming himself. “Go on cariño, come for me.”
“Oh fuck, yes! Yes, baby - oh, Eddie, I’m coming! I’m coming, holy fuck you’re so hot, so perfect…”
Buck’s words get lost in his moans, and Eddie’s mind gets lost in the visuals from the video, from the photos, in the sinful way Buck’s begging and panting and coming for him. “So good for me, baby, so good. You’re making me come,” he says, and the surprise in his voice is unwarranted, but the awe, he thinks, is not. He groans as he shoots all over his hands. “Buck! Oh fuck, Jesus fucking Christ, Buck I’m - oh fuck I’m coming.”
“Give me your come. I want it,” he demands. “I want all your come, Eddie. You’re mine, just mine.”
His orgasm is so sudden, despite the tightening of his balls, the pressure in his lower back. He’d never come this hard, not with the white spots that crowd his vision. “Holy shit,” he whispers. “Buck, I -“
No segue. “Are you upset?” It’s Buck’s turn to be insecure, and Eddie figures it makes sense, post-nut clarity and all.
He laughs. “I have zero negative feelings about this,” he repeats Buck’s statement back to him. “I don’t think I’ve ever come this hard,” he adds, because honesty is important. On an afterthought, he snaps a picture of his dick - still somehow, somewhat half-hard - covered in come, just like his hand and abs are. If he flexes them, it’s nobody’s business.
Buck moans again. “Come over? Please come over. I’m - we can talk about it all, I promise. But I need to see you, touch you?” Again with the uncertainty.
Eddie grins down the line. “Give me 29 minutes.”
“What happened to 20?”
“I need two minutes to get blood back in my legs, four to shower, 18 to get to you, and the rest to kiss you stupid.”
Buck’s laugh is a precious thing. “I’ll order us pizza.”
“I want your boxers,” Eddie blurts. He didn’t even think that, it just comes out. “Just, um. Just keep them for me.”
Buck honest to God moans. Gives Eddie the grace to not ask why. “Jesus. Yeah, yeah okay, baby. Be safe,” he says serenely.