Archive of Our Own

"Did you take one of my juice boxes?" is the first thing Buck hears after walking into his apartment. He's sweating from the LA heat, already feeling that familiar ache that comes after a 48-hour shift, eyes red and swollen because he just spent the last two hours bawling like a baby in Maddie’s jeep when he’s not even sad; it was just an adrenaline crash after everything that’s happened today caught up to him.

"No." Buck sniffles. "Must've been Connor."

The lump on the couch moves, and out of a mass of blankets pops out Eddie Diaz: the guy that moved in after Jonah got a place with his girlfriend, and the only roommate that Buck doesn’t have to cover part of the rent for.

Buck doesn’t know a lot about him, just that he’s one of those movie-types that come to Hollywood with dreams of being a writer or actor or whatever the fuck. Although, in Buck’s humble opinion, Eddie should set his sights on modeling, since he already looks like he came out of a catalogue. Even when he’s lounging in ratty sweatpants and licking Cheeto Dust off his fingers. Which is most of the time, by the way. If Eddie’s not out working at this cocktail bar down the street, or working out like a beast at the gym, he’s staring at the TV like a fucking zombie.

And the thing is, Buck’s never a been movie-watcher. He can’t sit in front of anything for more than ten minutes without getting bored. So, he tries to stay away from Eddie, because the only times that they’ve ever spoken outside empty pleasantries, Buck put his foot in his mouth. And Buck’s not even referencing the fact that he tried to size Eddie up like an asshole, acting too self-assured, too hostile to the point Eddie had to knock him down a peg with a ‘What are we measuring here, Buck?’

Not their dicks, although that might be the only contest Buck would win against the likes of someone as gorgeous as Eddie. Physique-wise at least. And Buck’s not sure he’d measure up when it comes to intellect either. On the first interaction they had, Eddie asked Buck what his favorite film was, and Buck, like an idiot, told him he didn’t have one, which, hey, was better than saying it was something embarrassing like Frozen. Although not by a lot, judging by Eddie’s expression; he looked constipated. And then, there was that time where Buck was like, ‘So, is your full name Eduardo?’ and Eddie said no with the grumpiest face imaginable. That man does not like him.

"Are you crying?" Eddie asks. With his messy hair and bleary eyes, Buck could almost picture what he looks like after rocking someone’s world in his cheap little bed.

Buck’s probably better, though. He’s had a lot of practice.

"No," Buck lies, scoffing.

"Right." It’s clear that Eddie doesn’t believe him, but he turns back to his super pretentious film anyway. The end credits show on screen; Buck’s pretty sure he distracted the guy right when the movie was about to end.

He really is the worst, isn’t he? No wonder Eddie hates him.

"I got fired today," Buck tells Eddie for no reason. He should shut up now. Buck’s bothering a dude who couldn’t give less of a fuck.

"From your firefighter job?" Eddie asks. His under-eye circles are very prominent today. It makes him look half-dead.

"Yeah. I did something stupid…But I got it back."

"That's good.” Eddie frowns. “Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you're here,” Buck says honestly. “Plus, you don't seem like the judging type."

"Well, maybe you're not the best at reading people."

"Touché.” Buck feels a little guilty now. “You want breakfast? Cap's taught me how to make an omelette that's to die for."

"I guess." Eddie hesitates, looking at the couch. "Maybe you should sit."

"What?"

"You look like you need a little…"

"A little what?"

"TLC?" Eddie grimaces after he says it.

Buck ignores him, heading to the kitchen.

"I'm serious, brother,” Eddie says, trailing after him, flip-flops squeaking on the tiles. “Just—Talk to someone. Anyone. Get whatever it is off your chest. Because losing your job for, like, 5 minutes shouldn't have you looking this rough."

"Look who's talking."

"Whatever, man."

Buck rummages in search of a clean pan, wrinkling his nose when he finds one that should be in the dishwasher. Or maybe even the trash. Although, fortunately, the one Eddie tends to use is in pretty good condition, so he puts it on the stovetop on low heat.

There are no shallots in the fridge, but Buck just bought a carton of eggs and a tub of butter. He makes do with what he has and gives Eddie his breakfast with a sheepish smile.

"Oh, God," Eddie moans after the first bite. It’s borderline pornographic. "Why don't you cook more often? Jesus."

"Would you tell anyone? If I told you."

"Tell me what?" Eddie asks mid-chew. He’s practically nose deep in his omelette.

Buck fiddles with an egg, staring, hoping Eddie will just get it.

Eddie mouths an ‘Oh’. "Never been a tattletale. Secret’s safe with me."

Buck knows that’s as trustworthy as someone in his life is gonna get right now, so he’ll take it.

"I borrowed the truck to…you know..."

Eddie clearly doesn’t follow, gazing up at him while he stuffs his face. His eyes are really big. And brown. And distracting.

Buck ducks his head, gaze darting to the kitchen aisle. “To have sex. Twice.”

Eddie stills. "Wow. I don't…know what to say. Let me…find it. Give me, give me a minute."

"Yeah, I'm an asshole."

"No, just…Why?"

"I'm scared," Buck blurts out, swallowing down a bout of shame that tastes a lot like bile. The stutter he’s worked so hard to get rid of obliterates his first attempt at a new sentence. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and grits out, "That I-I'll do it again. I don't know if I can help myself."

"From having sex on the job?"

"Yeah. I just—I need it."

"You…need it?"

"I-I think I'm a sex addict. I can't say no." It feels good to say it out loud.

Eddie lays his fork down on his plate. "Maybe you're just lonely. I get that, being lonely."

Buck doesn’t know what to answer back.

"Hey, what if when you get the urge to do something stupid, you call me?” Eddie asks, being kinder than Buck deserves. “And when you're here, we can…sit down, watch a movie. What was your favorite movie again?"

Buck rocks on his heels. "I don't have one."

Eddie’s eye twitches. "Right. We'll figure something out."

The first time Buck's urges get so bad he calls Eddie, it goes like this:

"Eddie Diaz speaking."

Buck swallows the lump in his throat, leaning on the door of the supply closet he's hiding in.

"H-hey, Eddie. It's Buck," he says, grimacing at the words. Why the hell is he bothering Eddie? The guy has more important things to do than manage Buck's life for him.

"Did you forget your keys again?" Eddie asks, dismissive, and Buck's resolve crumbles right there and then.

"No." Buck scratches behind his ear. "Never mind."

He's about to hang up when he hears, "No, no, no, no, no!"

Buck immediately brings his cell back to his ear.

"Sorry. I forgot," Eddie says. "Everything okay in there?"

"Yeah, just—this girl asked for my number. And she was cute, you know, so I said yes. And now she's texting me, and…I'm gonna do something stupid."

"No, you're not." There's shuffling on Eddie's side. "Delete her number."

"What?" Buck asks, leaning forward.

"You heard me: delete her number and send me proof. Send screenshots."

"How…?" Buck can think of a way how. "Okay."

Eddie's silent as Buck captures an image of the girl's number, of his iPhone asking him to confirm he wants to delete it, and of his contacts minus the one he just got rid of. He thinks about cheating before he does it, erasing Hen's instead or something, but decides it's better to be truthful. Eddie's just helping him keep his job, and Buck needs to keep being part of the 118 like he needs water to survive. It’s the only thing he has left.

"Done." Buck sends his proof.

"Okay, let me check," Eddie says. Then: "Nice. What time you getting off work?"

"Ten hours."

"Okay, so, go to sleep, and I'll be waiting for you at…7:30, so we can go on a run."

"A run?" Buck makes a face; he's always exhausted after a shift.

Eddie clicks his tongue. "We gotta get rid of all that extra energy somehow."

And that's how their little tradition starts: Buck joining in Eddie's morning run, staring at his ass as he tries to catch up; Eddie making him sprint through the neighborhood when he gets too in his head.

"You're a dog," Eddie tells him once, like he's having an aha moment, and Buck has half a mind to chuck his water bottle at Eddie's stupid face. "No, listen: I'm walking you. There's just no leash."

Buck gives him the finger, already hurrying back to their apartment. He needs a shower bad.

"There's just no leash," Eddie yells, and Buck is sure the motherfucker finds it hilarious.

An old lady watering her plants gives them a weird look. She’s the one subletting 2B. Susan, was it? Sorry, Susan; his roommate fucking sucks.

A few days later, they're back outside, going down a route that Buck now finds familiar. And then further. Way further.

"Yo," Buck heaves out, "wait up."

Eddie stops in his tracks, stretching his arms with a groan that sounds straight out of a porno. "Runner's high, man," he says. "I feel so much better. Don't you?"

"Yeah." Buck tries to catch his breath, putting his hands on his bent knees. "For sure."

"We should go to that smoothie place down the block; the guy that works there…" Eddie whistles.

"Uh, he's good at…making smoothies?"

"What? No!" Eddie's face scrunches up in confusion. "He's hot."

And oh, that's unexpected.

"You're gay," Buck realizes. He'd assumed Eddie was as straight as they come, with his hard-ass disposition and unwavering adonis-like masculinity. The most Buck's seen him talk was when the conversation was about trucks. And fuck, only that heated argument with Connor about The Godfather comes a close second; Eddie will react to a slight against Coppola's filmography as if you'd just shot his dog.

Was Buck being homophobic this whole time? Is his idea of a gay person insanely stereotypical? He should ask Hen on their next 24.

"Yeah." Eddie looks defensive in a way that makes him seem kind of scary. "Got a problem with that?"

"No. I'm an ally," Buck says.

Eddie pats him in the back a little too hard, and Buck tries not to flinch at the show of strength.

"Thought so." Eddie smiles at him, something close-lipped and uncomfortable. Buck will take it.

Panting, they make their way to The Fruit Bar: a chic establishment that's too trendy for the likes of them. It has a baby pink counter with fairy lights; the giant Insta-spot is covered in fake flowers. 'And I can't do nothing about his strange weather,' Lana Del Rey sings in the background.

Buck can't for the life of him imagine Eddie coming here on his own, even if the guy that takes their orders has a ridiculously handsome face. Not that Eddie even looks at him; Buck’s the one who has to order for the both of them.

The outside tables are somewhere quiet and secluded, covered by a pergola made of a pale cream type of wood.

"So, you’ve never been with a guy?" Eddie says, fiddling with the straw of his Cloud Smoothie: a swirly concoction made with blue spirulina, almond milk, and a bunch of fruit. It really does look like the sky overhead.

Buck lets out a quiet chuckle. "No."

His body feels clammy, the air cold against his damp skin. His legs feel like he's just walked non-stop for days.

Eddie purses his lips. "Since you have your, uh, problem, I just assumed…"

"No, not really. I'm all for it, you know. Gay rights!" Buck pumps his fist, and Eddie stares at him as if Buck were a funny-looking monkey in a zoo exhibit. "But I've always loved women. Sure, I've had threesomes here and there, but they were all about her in the end; the guys didn't matter."

Eddie opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again. Buck watches awkwardly as Eddie opts out of keeping the conversation alive, sipping on his smoothie with a doe-like version of a Kubrick stare, eyes glinting with something that Buck thinks looks like determination.

But that doesn't make any sense, so probably not.

Life goes on. Devon dies. Buck has sex with his therapist.

Bobby looks thoroughly disgusted when he finds out. And Buck understands; he knows he’s repulsive; he never tells Eddie for a reason, just like he doesn’t mention that he picks up girls when Eddie’s busy, or that since Dr. Wells he hasn’t been able to get a woman to sit on his thighs without freaking out. Buck takes longer showers, tries to scrub the dirt that isn’t there, and sometimes joins Eddie on the couch, using the opportunity to disappear, pretending to watch something when he’s barely using enough brain cells to breathe.

“She took your phone number from the report?” Eddie asks when Buck fills him in on the Abby of it all, his lip curling and his eyes going all squinty.

“I mean yeah; she was worried about me.” Buck shrugs.

“It’s weird, Buck. Maybe you shouldn’t be talking to this woman,” Eddie says, so Buck stops answering Abby’s calls.

It builds up then, the lack of intimacy. He’s not getting enough to quell the urges, and he finds himself being a tad too reckless with it, numbers slipping inside the pockets of his turnouts, Tinder messages being sent during work hours. There’s a pit deep in his belly, something that aches and aches, hurts so much it hunches him over.

He subscribes to a couple of OnlyFans. Buys a fleshlight. Tries not to think of Eddie’s broad shoulders when he’s on the brink of orgasm, the massive width of his palms. He goes down a rabbit hole of videos that sicken him, explicit in ways that make him feel filthy but tend to get the job done. And the feeling’s even worse when the stars look like someone he knows. Like Eddie. Self-hatred sours in the pitch of his stomach.

He quits porn when, after jerking it to a 2D animation made by a clearly disturbed person, he genuinely considers suicide.

So, Buck spends his days horny and sad. His dick twitches at the slightest graze of something, aching with need. His loneliness makes the air in his lungs burn. And nothing makes him any less miserable. Trying to get off leaves him hollow.

“I need it,” he mutters on a throw pillow, half-crazed and thrumming with want, mind foggy after consuming one too many beers.

“What’d you say?” Eddie asks, turning to look at him. An actress cries out in the background.

“I need it,” Buck pleads. Because Eddie would do; he would suffice. And he’s so good. He never yells at Buck, just talks to him with a low, gravelly voice, and lets Buck stare at him and his perfect nose all day, at the pretty mole under his eye and the badass scar on his lip.

Eddie leans closer. “Need what?”

Buck lays a hand on his pants, clutching at the fabric. “You,” he says.

Eddie wheezes out a sound. “Buck, buddy, you’re straight.”

Buck shakes his head; that doesn’t matter. He inches forward until he’s practically straddling Eddie, Buck’s leg over Eddie’s thigh.

“Need you,” he reiterates, swallowing down the lump in his throat, the saliva pooling in his mouth. It’s right there; cloud 9’s just out of reach.

“Dude, I don’t think you’re in the right state of mind.”

“I consent.”

“I don’t think—”

“I consent.” Buck raises his tone, clinging to Eddie’s shoulders.

“Buck.” Eddie cups his face in his hands, and Buck’s breath hitches. “We’re not having sex tonight.” His tone is final, and Buck’s hopes are crushed. “Sleep on it if you want. Hell, you can sleep with me if that’ll make you feel any better. But only sleep; we’re not doing anything else, okay?”

Buck tries to act unbothered, yet whatever’s in his throat is growing, and a new pressure behind his sinuses has started to build up. “You wanna cuddle?” he tries to joke, but his voice is shaky, and that’s when he realizes there are tears rolling down his face.

“We can cuddle,” Eddie says, unfathomably kind as he always is. He doesn’t even mention how embarrassing Buck’s being.

Eddie’s room is dark, only illuminated by the dim light of a lamp at his bedside table. He has a headboard, unlike Buck, but he doesn’t have much else on display. The space is terribly empty, save for the clothes in the built-in closet and a pile of books on an Ikea desk.

“Animal Farm,” Buck reads a title, tilting his head. “Sounds like it was written for kids. E-I-E-I-O or whatever.”

Eddie glares at him, offended, and Buck can’t help but smirk. He feels more sober now than he did a few minutes ago. Stable. Brushing their teeth together might’ve been more therapeutic than Buck gave it credit for.

Maybe Buck can use that, say something like ‘How can I repay you?’, convince Eddie that he can fuck him guilt-free with a couple of words and a coy smile.

Eddie throws him a pair of shorts. “Put this on.”

“You know I live here, right? My bedroom’s three feet away.”

“Go get your own clothes, then.”

Buck doesn’t move. “I usually sleep naked.”

Eddie gives him a look.

“Boxers only?” Buck asks, deliberately toeing the line of what’s acceptable—it’s what he does.

With a sigh, Eddie signals him to go ahead, and Buck quickly strips down. A part of him’s hoping Eddie will appreciate the body he works hard for, that Eddie will pounce on Buck like a beast and rid him of this relentless itch under his skin.

Eddie doesn’t spare him a glance. “Bathroom,” he grunts, moving toward the door. Buck clasps a hand on his wrist before he’s even aware of what he’s doing.

Eddie turns toward him, confused. Buck swallows with a click. He doesn’t let go.

“Buck,” Eddie says, and his expression is full of pity.

Buck rocks in his heels, waits until he hears that telltale-tired exasperation everyone always expresses around him; he’s getting kicked out any minute now. Eddie slowly undoes Buck’s desperate grasp, and Buck’s a breath away from blurting out some kind of apology.

It dies in his throat though, when Eddie strips off his shirt with ease. And, yeah, Buck’s already seen him half-naked before, but his abs are so defined that Buck still seethes with envy. Eddie doesn’t even have that tiny bit of belly fat that every other person does. His skin is tan and golden and perfect, and Buck really wants to punch the guy square in the face.

Eddie pulls off his sweats just as quickly, and Buck sees a glimpse of his thighs before he can cover them up. He’d like to say that what catches his eye is how strong or hairy they are, but it’s definitely the scars. Rows and rows of them; deep, straight lines, some still pink, some crisscrossing each other. There’s burns there too, or maybe patches of skin that he’s sliced off himself like deli meat. Just thinking about it makes Buck’s teeth ache in discomfort.

Eddie throws himself on the bed, another pair of sweatpants on, and Buck shakes himself off his stupor. He might be jumping the gun here; he doesn’t know Eddie that well. There are thousands of reasons a person can end up with a couple of scars. Although, as neat as they are, maybe not that many.

“You coming?” Eddie asks, patting the sheet. He wouldn’t seem any different from earlier, if not for the tight clench of his jaw.

“Uh, sure,” Buck muttered, slipping inside the covers, trying to give Eddie as much room as possible. But sadly, Eddie’s bed isn’t that big, and Buck and Eddie aren’t small by any means, so they can’t help but touch.

Eddie turns off the light, shrouding them in darkness. Buck turns his back towards him, facing the wall, and Eddie does the same. The hole inside Buck gets a little bit wider, but he shuts his eyes and pretends he doesn’t feel like throwing up.

The quiet hours of the morning before Eddie wakes up are painful. Buck practically cleans the whole kitchen, feeling antsy and anxious, body vibrating with excess energy. He changes outfit three times, despairs about the state of his hair before putting on a snapback. Buck has to look perfect; good enough for Eddie to fuck.

“Morning,” Eddie mumbles, dragging himself to the couch.

“Morning, Eddie!” Buck says, and he knows he’s being too loud, too chipper. He’s scared of whatever version of him will come out if he tries to turn it down a notch. “I made pancakes! I don’t know what you like on them, so I bought a little bit of everything.”

Buck brandishes Eddie’s plate, filled with fruits and different types of syrup. He’s so grateful Bobby taught him how to make breakfast foods.

Eddie points at himself. “Me?”

Buck swallows down a bout of nerves. “Yes. For you.” He inches the tray in Eddie’s direction, and Eddie stares at it like it’s a sparkling unicorn. Or a floating serial-killer clown. Buck hopes Eddie’s leaning more towards unicorn.

“Thank you, Buck,” Eddie says, taking the tray from his hands.

Eddie moans as he eats, but Buck is used to it by now, fiddling with his snapback as he waits for the final verdict.

“It was really good. Thank you,” Eddie says. And Buck can’t help but beam.

He picks the tray back up and leaves it in the kitchen, makes his way back, and stares at a sated Eddie for a moment.

Buck leans on the doorway as he gathers courage.

“Can I suck you off now?” he finally asks, and Eddie rears back, looking shocked.

“You, uh, still want to?” Eddie looks judgmental, but he’s blushing so hard that Buck can’t take him seriously.

“Yep,” Buck says, and Eddie nods like a bobblehead, spreading his legs. Buck scrambles to put his head in between them. Finally.

“I’m clean,” Eddie says.

“Me too.”

Eddie hesitates. “Connor’s home.”

Buck huffs. He couldn’t care less. As long as Eddie’s up to it, he’ll do whatever.

Eddie stands up. “Let’s go to my room.”

Buck follows him like the desperate man he is. Eddie locks the door when they’re inside with a click, and Buck is kneeling the moment he hears the sound, pulling Eddie’s sweats and underwear in one go.

Eddie’s cock springs up, almost hitting Buck on the chin. It’s thick and uncut, the foreskin peeling back and revealing a ruddy head that makes Buck want to pant like a dog. Eddie starts to say something, but he cuts himself off with a lewd noise when Buck hunches over to put his mouth on Eddie’s balls, licking him, giving him kiss after kiss as he inhales the musky smell of sweat and sex.

“Fuck,” Eddie groans, hands swiping through Buck’s snapback like he was expecting hair instead. Buck moves to take it off, but Eddie grabs him by the nape of the neck like he’s trying to keep him in place. He trails his fingers up until he’s twirling the damp little curls there, making Buck shudder, still drooling all over Eddie’s balls, hairy and warm on his tongue. He sucks on them, trying to swallow down some of the spit that’s slowly dripping down.

He hears a thud, the sound of Eddie's head hitting the wall. A grunt. A heaved-out exhale. Heat simmers on the base of Buck’s spine, thighs twitching in arousal. Eddie’s patting him on the back in a clear ‘Hurry the fuck up.’ It makes Buck want to smirk, lips twitching as he drags the tip of his nose up Eddie’s shaft, precum wet on his skin.

“Wait,” Eddie strangles out as Buck rubs his lips on the twitching head. “Fuck. Just—Wait.”

Buck sits back on his haunches, giving Eddie an unimpressed look. Eddie’s red all over, mouth slack as he stares at Buck with dilated pupils.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes out, nearly inaudible. He swallows with a click, clearing his throat. “Okay. You can…proceed.”

Proceed? Buck wrinkles his nose. “Dude, are you a virgin?”

Eddie looks offended. “I had a girlfriend for 5 years.”

“Girlfriend? Aren’t you gay?”

“Yes. Let’s just get back to…Please.”

Buck shrugs, putting his hands back on Eddie’s hips. He doesn’t care about specifics as long as Eddie fucks him hoarse.

“Can you open your mouth?” Eddie’s thumb strokes his bottom lip, and Buck lets it gape around the digit. “No. Wider.”

Eddie’s finger leads the bottom part of his jaw down with gentle pressure. Buck lolls his tongue out, opening so wide it hurts.

“That’s it,” Eddie murmurs, stroking his fat, beautiful dick, spreading the leaking precum all over it until it looks wet and mouth-watering. He taps his cock on Buck’s tongue, and Buck fights the urge to wrap his lips around it.

Eddie’s hips inch forward the tiniest amount, and then inch back just the same, like he’s using Buck to get friction on the head. And Buck whimpers. A rush of something hot and electric skitters up his spine. The urge to gag on Eddie’s dick is getting overwhelming.

“Can I spit on you?” Eddie asks. Buck nods, and almost sobs when that makes Eddie’s cock slip out of his mouth.

“Yes,” he repeats out loud, voice thready.

“Slap you?”

Buck nods.

“With my dick?”

“Yes.” Buck would really like that. And he would like it now.

“Fuck your throat? Is that okay?”

“Yes,” Buck huffs out, exasperated. “Yes to everything. Just fucking do it.”

“Okay. Just checking.”

Buck sighs, gaze darting down to Eddie’s thighs, then down to his flip-flops. He’s not sure how comfortable Eddie is with Buck seeing the cuts, and it’s made pretty clear that the answer’s complicated when Eddie re-dresses himself except for his peeking dick, half-covered by his boxers, the band pushing it flush against Eddie’s stomach.

“Bed?” Eddie asks, giving him a hand. Buck takes it. They stumble into the sheets, Buck pushing Eddie to lie down so he can loom over him.

“I have a safe word,” Buck says. “Philly. I’ll just say that if I don’t like something. Or snap my fingers. You don’t have to ask.”

Eddie looks like he wants to fight him on it for a second, but he ends up nodding.

“Philly,” Eddie says, making sure.

His hands are pulling Buck’s shirt over his head. Buck does the same to Eddie, pawing at his abs.

“Or snapping my fingers,” Buck mutters, latching his mouth on Eddie's neck, leaving a trail of kisses down his chest. Eddie moves around, and Buck only realizes the snapback fell when Eddie’s putting it back on Buck’s head.

“Perfect,” Eddie mutters, making blood rush straight to Buck’s cheeks. And south to his cock, where it’s so hard it aches.

Buck has a thought then. Of tasting Eddie’s lips. Of the both of them rolling around the bed, making out until their mouths are sore. But that’s too much to ask of a guy who’s letting him blow his dick out of pity, so Buck waves the urge away.

Eddie pulls at his earlobe with his teeth, his hot breath making Buck shiver. He caresses the line of his throat, something bright and electric running through Buck’s body. Trembling, Buck strokes a hand down Eddie’s happy trail, grabbing Eddie’s dick to give it a pump. It’s warm to the touch, the shaft riddled with veins, huge but delicate, with a curve that would hit his prostate just right. Buck wants it inside of him so bad.

Buck inches down, head between Eddie’s legs yet again. Eddie doesn’t spread them wider, but he puts a hand on his cock, hips shifting closer until he can trace Buck’s lips with the head, smearing precum on them like it’s lipstick. With a jerk, he swings his dick until it hits Buck’s cheek, chuckling when Buck lets out a wrecked sound, hands flying out to clutch the bed sheets.

“You really are a slut.” Eddie’s cock slaps him on the nose, and Buck’s eyes slam shut when something wet splatters on his lid. His own dick is leaking like a faucet; his underwear soaked beyond repair. The tight pressure in his stomach urges him to press on it with the palm of his hands, to find some relief somehow.

He tries to crawl a little closer, to put his mouth on Eddie and get to the good part faster, but Eddie pushes him away with a palm to the forehead.

“Down, boy.” Eddie’s Texan drawl gets more pronounced. It makes Buck’s thighs quiver. “I didn’t say you could do that yet, did I?” Eddie asks. “Answer me.”

Buck shudders. “No.”

“No, you won’t answer me?” Eddie pulls at his hair, making him whine.

Buck shakes his head, feeling his scalp sting. “You didn’t say I could. I’m sorry.”

“You gotta say please first. Say please.”

“Please.”

“There you go.” Eddie feeds him his cock, still fisting his curls to control the pace. Buck gasps in sheer relief.

Eddie is a grounding weight on Buck’s tongue, bullying itself inside and stretching Buck’s lips to their limit. Buck squeezes his left thumb, trying not to gag. Eddie’s only halfway when he pulls back, and Buck still feels him in his lungs.

Buck’s dick is longer though. He’s sure of it.

He chokes then, when Eddie thrusts back, his spit dripping down Eddie’s shaft. Eddie laughs at him, patting him on the cheek. It’s embarrassing. Buck wants more. He tries to put all his best stops as Eddie moves, swirling his tongue around the head, lapping at the slit when he can. Everything feels too hot, like the room is on fire.

Eddie gets deeper, and Buck tries to breathe. He sucks on the shaft as he inhales through his nose, bobbing his head down even when his hair cries out, still held tightly in Eddie’s grasp.

“I’m gonna go harder on you now.” Eddie pulls out, making him whimper at the loss. “But you can take it.” He cups Buck’s face, and Eddie’s hand feels almost cold on his burning skin. “God, I’ve never seen anyone as cock-drunk as you.”

Buck hiccups an embarrassing sound, a mewl that makes him want to run away, but with Eddie’s grip on him, he can’t. The thought sends a jolt of pleasure down his spine.

Eddie presses into his mouth again, going deeper, shushing him when he lets out a loud gag. Buck tries to relax and focus on his breathing. His face feels drenched in sweat, spit, and drying precum.

Eddie thrusts harder, his balls hitting Buck’s chin with a plap, plap, plap. Buck can feel tears tricking down his cheeks, and he’s so turned on he can’t help but find some relief, touching himself over his jeans, stars bursting behind his eyelids. His jaw aches; Eddie’s fucking into him like he’s a toy, slowing down the pace when he tries to fit more inside him, and hurrying it up when he gets bored. He invades Buck’s throat, forcing him down to the base as he gags. And Buck, delirious, tries to push himself down even further, eyes squinting at the warning sting of his scalp.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes out. “How many times have you done this before? You know what? Don’t answer. I don’t wanna know how used up you are.”

Buck lets out a whine, and Eddie grinds into him in response, squishing Buck’s nose against his groin. He lays a hand under Buck’s jaw, and Buck can guess there’s a bulge there.

“So pretty for me,” Eddie murmurs. “Your lips were made for this. Dick sucking lips.”

Buck’s vision gets spotty from the lack of air, and he tries to pull back. Eddie’s resistant before he lets go. Buck wheezes, chin dripping with drool, and after a beat, he’s back to swallowing Eddie’s cock, looking up at him as he bobs his head back.

“Good boy,” Eddie croons, and Buck almost orgasms right there and then.

His eyes strain as he tries to keep meeting Eddie’s gaze, and Eddie groans, hips jerking as he loses control of his movements. Buck can’t help but grab the bulge in his pants, humping the air as he tries to find more friction on instinct.

It’s not long before he tastes cum: a little salty, but not horrible. Eddie pulls out, leaving Buck with an empty, gaping mouth as he takes himself in his hand and points at Buck’s face to paint him white. Wet spurts hit Buck in the chin, the nose, the cheeks. He gets covered with come up to his eyebrows, instinctively wiping some out of his lids.

He sees it glisten on his index, and the impulse to lick is overwhelming. He puts it in his mouth, lapping at the sticky, salty substance. But after a second, Eddie leads his hand away from his lips, lacing their fingers together.

“Your turn?” he asks.

Buck looks at the dampness of his crotch. “It’ll be quick.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, using his giant fingers to pop the button of Buck’s jeans. Buck’s belly tightens, a zing of arousal licking up his spine, pressure ready to boil over.

It only takes two strokes inside his briefs before Buck sees the light, a white-hot supernova as he squirms, swiveling his hips and warbling out a cry. Eddie has to cover his mouth to muffle the noise, still tracing Buck’s slit and touching the head.

“Was that good?” Eddie asks, drawing out the words.

Buck can only pant out a blissful laugh. “Yeah. We’re doing that again.”

They do it again. And again. As long as Buck’s desperate enough to ask, Eddie doesn’t turn him down. Probably because he feels sorry for him.

“This isn’t working,” Eddie says, and Buck stops licking Eddie’s happy trail, bewildered. Eddie can’t do this to Buck. He can’t. “You’re not getting any happier. We’re just stuck in an endless cycle.”

After some stilted silence, Buck nuzzles the hem of Eddie’s boxers, hoping he will change his mind. Buck really needs this right now. His body is trembling at the thought of not being able to taste Eddie, heart hammering in his ribs. Desperate, he might just blow Connor if Eddie kicks him out.

“I’m sorry,” Buck says.

Eddie runs a gentle hand through his curls, something delicate that makes a weight lift off Buck’s shoulders. “Oh no, buddy. We’ll just make new rules, okay? We got the safe-words…And, uh, rule number one is that you can’t hold back anymore. You have to go for it any time you want to.”

“Any time?”

Eddie shrugs. “It’s not like I’m fucking anyone else.”

“You’re not?”

“I suck at flirting. I suck at, uh, dating in general. And casual’s not really my thing, so…”

“But you’re you,” Buck says, and it sounds silly when it comes out of his mouth, but he still subscribes to the sentiment.

Eddie doesn’t look as flattered as he should. “Thanks.”

The material of his briefs is soft. His dick is right there, straining just an inch away from Buck’s hand.

Buck licks his lips. “No, I just—I don’t believe you.”

Eddie huffs. “Every time I see a guy I like, I turn into a statue. I’m basically hoping that if I stay still long enough, he won’t notice I exist and get out of my sight quicker.”

“Dude, but you’re hot.” Buck strokes Eddie’s v-line, gazing up at him with that sultry look he’s perfected over the years.

Eddie seems unbothered. “So, we got a deal?”

“Any time?” Buck bites the inside of his cheek.

“Any time,” Eddie says. “I mean it.”

"Again?" Eddie asks as Buck unbuckles his belt.

Buck looks up at him. "You complaining?"

Eddie runs a big hand through Buck's hair, making him shiver.

"I do miss the snapback a little," he says, and he's so pretty from this angle. From any angle. Eddie's tan skin complementing the brown of his hair and eyes. His chiseled jaw covered in a sexy stubble, a five o'clock that he wants to know the rough feel of.

The hinges of the front door creak. They jump apart, startled.

"Yo, Evan, my guy." Connor stumbles toward Buck to dap him up. He smells like weed, and his eyes are bloodshot as he surveys the room. "You hanging out now?" He points at Eddie, and Eddie nods. "That's good. I won't bother you; just need to get a couple beers from the fridge."

"Don't touch the juice boxes," Eddie says in a loud voice as Connor enters the kitchen.

"It was one time!" Connor yells back.

Eddie's lips twitch. "No, it wasn't!"

“Damn,” Buck mumbles, swiping a thumb over his birthmark. He has the urge to put his hands in his pockets, but he won't; he's not awkward.

Eddie glances back at him, eyebrows raising. His eyes dart to the kitchen, where Connor is making a ruckus, and then to what Buck knows is Eddie's bedroom, something akin to an invitation in the movement of his mouth when he's back to meeting Buck's gaze.

Buck nods, his feet already stepping forward in that direction. But Eddie holds out a hand. 'Wait,' it seems to say.

Connor appears, carrying a six-pack that Buck's pretty sure he bought.

"I'm leaving now," he says, taking out his keys. "You sure you guys don't wanna come?"

Eddie lets out a quiet chuckle. Buck shakes his head. Come to what? He doesn't know and, for the first time in his life, he couldn't care less.

"Okay. Enjoy your movie." The door slams shut.

A beat.

Eddie breaks out into giggles, laughter bright and endearing. His face is as red as when he orgasms, and Buck feels like it’s a privilege to be aware of that fact.

Buck comes home frustrated. His shift was so boring and felt so long he ended up filled with anxious energy, and it got so bad he re-downloaded Tinder before quickly deleting it out of guilt. Buck and Eddie aren’t anything, but Eddie’s made it clear that he’s not seeing anybody else, so why should Buck? Just like Eddie, Buck shouldn’t need attention from anyone else. They’re both the same age. They both have high libidos. And whatever mediocre sex he can have with some random doesn’t hold a candle to the intimacy he has built with Eddie these last couple of months.

He feels a little broken right now, like there’s something inside of him that doesn’t work. Not like it does in anyone else. And maybe that’s why his parents never grew to love him, because they understood that Buck wasn’t as much of a person as they were, that there were pieces missing.

Buck sees Eddie on the couch, watching something in Spanish on TV, and drags himself over, tapping him on the shoulder before heading to his room. He knows Eddie will come in less than a minute.

And lo and behold, he’s here, closing the door before taking off his Henley. His arm reaches out and wraps around Buck’s waist, bringing him closer until they’re chest to chest. Eddie looks at his lips, licking his own, and Buck ducks his head, fighting a shiver.

They always end up fucking on the bed, or, more accurately in Buck’s room, the mattress lying on the ground. Eddie has never said anything to him about it, but he was definitely judging when he first saw Buck's sleeping conditions.

Screw Eddie, though. Buck doesn’t see the need for a bed frame; he’s comfortable with how things are, even if it means that now Eddie has to kneel on the mattress, since Buck wants to do so on the ground. For a blowjob, that’s not that much of a hardship to get over.

Buck tucks Eddie's briefs over his balls, revealing an Eddie that’s half-hard, twitching in his grip when he strokes him loose and dry. Buck wishes they did more than Buck going down on him, and Eddie giving him a pity-handjob. He likes sucking dick, sure, but after the 100th time it’s getting a little repetitive. Their degree of intimacy feels lacking, and it’s making him feel a little crazy.

Last night he tried to get off and ended up chucking his fleshlight onto the wall. Nothing’s as intense as he wants it to. Sex doesn’t feel as it should.

Eddie strokes his jaw. “What’s wrong?”

Buck ignores him, licking up his inner thigh before nuzzling his groin. He tries to focus on the hairy skin, on the heat that will slowly fan higher and higher in his gut. He gives the pubes an open-mouthed kiss, then another, trailing his way down to Eddie’s cock.

Eddie grabs him by the hair, pulling hard. It makes Buck warble out a whimper.

“Buck,” Eddie chides.

Buck lets out a ragged exhale. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Eddie shifts away from him, knees up his chest so Buck doesn’t have access to his dick. It makes Buck want to shake him like a maraca.

“You’re a little…unenthusiastic today,” he says, and Buck almost rolls his eyes. “Whatever it is, it’s okay. You can tell me.”

Eddie looks as kind as he always does, gazing up at him with concern. It makes Buck soften, annoyance siphoning out of him. If Buck wants things to change, he has to swallow his pride and tell the truth. So here he goes.

Buck leans his head on Eddie’s legs, face smushed against his shins. “My fleshlight’s not cutting it. I-I need to have sex.” He gathers the courage to look up at Eddie, who doesn’t seem disgusted by him. “Like real sex.”

Eddie cradled his cheeks. “This ain’t real sex?”

Buck huffs. “You know what I mean.”

“Okay.” Eddie caresses him in a way that makes Buck want to cry a little. “Maybe we just need to focus on you today. Bring your toys.”

The words don’t register for a second.

“Really?” Buck asks, surprised. He didn’t think Eddie would be interested in more than Buck’s mouth.

Eddie chuckles. “Yeah. Grab them.”

Buck scrambles towards the box in his dresser, hurrying to give it to Eddie. With an amused smile, Eddie opens it, eyebrows shooting up as he sees its contents. He takes out the strap and the harness, glancing up at Buck with a question in his eyes.

“I like getting pegged,” Buck says, nonchalant.

Eddie puts the strap down. “That’s nice.”

Buck sits next to Eddie as he takes out one of the cock rings, putting it right back before he takes something else out.

“What’s this?”

“Prostate massager.”

Eddie hums, fingers tapping the box. “You want the fleshlight?”

“Hands are better.”

“And the…other toys?”

“Whatever you want.”

“This is supposed to be about you,” Eddie says.

Buck shrugs. As long as it’s not just a handjob, he doesn’t care.

“What if I”—Eddie hesitates—“peg you?”

Buck gets blessed by a mental image then, one of being bent over and fucked into his shitty mattress until he’s crying tears, Eddie’s fat cock hammering into him as he smothers Buck with a pillow. Or maybe presses a huge palm to his mouth, another in his throat to cut off airflow.

“With the strap?” Buck asks, careful. Anything more intense might scare Eddie away.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, fiddling with the harness. “That okay?”

“The harness might not fit you.”

“I’ll make it fit.”

Oh, Buck really wants him to make it fit.

Buck stands up to take off his shirt. “Rock my world, Diaz.”

Eddie runs a hand down Buck's side before he goes to grab the lube from the bedside table. Buck takes off his pants as fast as possible, throwing them in a corner of the room. His underwear too.

Eddie makes a frustrated sound.

“Won’t fit?” Buck asks, turning to see Eddie shimming the harness down his thighs, still wearing his sweatpants over it.

“My ass is too big.” Eddie tosses it into the box after a quick struggle. “We can still use the dildo.”

“There’s others in the box.”

“You got a favorite?”

“Purple one.”

“Purple one it is.” Eddie gives him a long look. “Come here.”

Eddie leads him by the hips to sit on his thighs, Buck’s cock grazing Eddie’s stomach in a way that makes him shudder. Eddie stares up at him, appearing almost reverent, his thumb caressing Buck’s bottom lip before he tilts his head just so, leaning closer. And it dawns on Buck then that Eddie’s going for a kiss. Buck wants that more than anything.

Eddie stops moving when he’s just a quarter of an inch away, his breath hot on Buck’s face, making his eyelids flutter. It’s pure impulse, then, when it happens. Buck can’t help but put his mouth on Eddie’s.

It’s chaste, too quick for Eddie to react. And Buck would’ve started to get self-conscious if Eddie didn’t surge up like a starved animal a second later, taking a strong hold of his jaw and slipping his tongue inside. The kiss is frantic, and before Buck knows it, he’s pushing Eddie down the mattress, contorting their bodies until they’re lying lengthwise, Buck draped over Eddie as he tries to map out the grooves of his palate, to taste his spit again and again.

He’s humping Eddie’s thigh, heaving as something wild and electric lights up his nerves. Buck could come like this. Buck wants to come like this now.

The world swirls around him, and then Eddie’s on top. Eddie has flipped them with ease. Buck can’t swallow down a whine, body burning up.

Eddie shifts a little. Buck gets friction again. He swivels his hips, his sensitive dick leaking as he enjoys the shockwaves of pleasure. Eddie moves back, and Buck groans at the change of angle. The tube of lube is in Eddie’s hand. He lies on Buck’s chest as he squirts a significant amount on his fingers, warming it up while pushing himself up again with one arm. It’s unfairly sexy. Buck wants Eddie to split him open.

“Turn around,” Eddie demands while he moves away, rolls over to his side, propping a hand up to watch him. Buck does as instructed, legs a little shaky. The feel of the sheets on his aching dick is like heaven.

Then, Eddie’s thumb, drenched in lube, travels down his lower back, his tailbone, his ass. The first touch to his rim makes his spine curl inward, a gasp punched out of him as Eddie massages the twitching muscles with careful fingers, leaving it soaked. There’s an emptiness there, one that Eddie tries to satiate.

“You’re a little loose,” Eddie mumbles, slipping his index up to the second knuckle with a squelch. Buck can’t help but hiccup a lewd noise. “Did you get fucked today already?”

Buck shakes his head, blood rushing to his cheeks so fast he gets lightheaded. “Stretched myself a bit in the station showers.”

“God, you’re such a slut.” Another finger. “You could get fired, you know.”

“No, I-it’s not—” Buck cuts himself off with a whimper, drool pooling in his mouth as he tries to fuck himself back on that wonderful hand, his own curling at the edge of the mattress. The digits are moving too slowly, so much so that he swears he can feel every single one of their callouses.

Eddie mouths at the bolt of his jaw, breath hot in his ear.

“You miss it?” he whispers.

Buck’s about to answer when Eddie pushes another dripping finger inside. He squeals, hole tightening. It’s too quick, but it barely stung. He just wasn’t expecting it.

When he relaxes, Eddie pulls out with a wet, embarrassing noise to give him a slap on the ass.

“Quiet,” Eddie chides, smacking him again before rubbing to soothe the skin. He’s spreading the lube around, covering his cheek with it, before squirting out some more and driving his fingers back into Buck’s hole, scissoring them to stretch him loose. The squelching gets so much louder.

Buck’s toes curl, feet kicking as Eddie finds his prostate. A burst of blinding pleasure zips up his spine, and he lets out a loud moan, ass thrusting back.

“Do I have to gag you?” Eddie says, mocking. “Because I will.”

“Y-yes,” Buck whimpers out, rubbing his leaking dick on the sheets—they’re already ruined.

Eddie leaves him empty, fingers slipping out as he stands up. Buck lets out a pathetic sob, waiting what feels like an eon before Eddie’s pulling his head up like a ragdoll, stuffing his mouth with bunched-up fabric. He tastes the precum on his tongue and immediately knows. Underwear. The lewd moan at the realization gets muffled by his briefs.

Eddie pats his cheek. “That’s a good slut.”

Buck’s head flops down once Eddie lets go of it, as if he can’t hold it up on his own. It feels too heavy, mind growing hazier as Eddie sits on his thighs to control the movement of his hips, taking hold of both of his wrists with one huge hand and pinning them behind his back.

Cold air hits his hole as Eddie spreads one of his cheeks. “Beautiful.”

Buck shuts his eyes, feeling feverish. Eddie's gaze is burning on the most intimate part of his body. Then he hears the sound of spit, something cold and wet on his rim. Eddie just did that to him, disrespected him in a way that makes Buck mewl. A mark of ownership, the pad of Eddie’s thumb ensuring his saliva stains Buck from the inside.

Buck tries to jerk his hips, drooling on his briefs as he slips into the feeling of being pinned in place. Buck doesn’t have to do anything; he doesn’t have to act or think. He can just lose himself in bliss, and trust that Eddie will take care of his dumb, needy slut.

Silicone touches his rim, pressing inside. His hole sucks the purple dildo in, lax and dripping from Eddie’s prep. It’s not big, maybe even thinner than Eddie’s fingers. Definitely longer, reaching places that make his eyes roll back, his fingers and toes twitch. The curve of it makes it easy to reach Buck’s prostate, which makes his skin hum in sensitive arousal, a warm pressure building in his gut.

The thrusts are unrelenting from the get-go, Eddie moving at a pace that leaves him crying out. Too fast, too slow. Hard. Overwhelming. A pressure on his prostate that feels too perfect, bringing him to the edge in a millisecond.

“So pretty for me.” Eddie pulls the dildo out, spitting on his hole before showing it back in. “Pink everywhere. Fuck. Such a pretty boy.” Eddie speeds up. “My little whore. You can’t help it if cock makes you dumb, can you?”

Buck whines, trying to squirm under Eddie’s hold. He wants to meet his thrust, but he can’t. Eddie’s weight is impossible to buck off. Buck wants him on top of him until the day he dies.

“Such a hungry hole. Should chuck this piece of plastic and fuck you myself. Who’s gonna stop me, your slutty ass?” Eddie laughs. “You’re such a slut you’d probably let me come in you. Hell, I’d pee in you and you’d thank me.”

Yes, yes, yes. He pants on his underwear, balls drawing up.

“Should I? Should I wipe out my dick and pee in you?”

Buck nods enthusiastically. His body is on fire. The pressure inside of him is reaching its breaking point.

“But you’re not the one that gets to decide, do you? You’re just a thing. You don’t have a choice. So let me just…” A huge finger forces itself next to the plug, and Buck cries out, body locking up as the sting of the stretch turns into white-hot pleasure, the intensity of the orgasm ringing in his ears.

He melts into the mattress, limp and useless as his muscles turn to liquid. Eddie takes out his finger, making him hiss as his hole mourns the stretch. There’s the sound of panting then, wet, rhythmical noises, a grunt as Buck feels something dripping down his back. Then, there’s just silence, the sound of feet pattering off before coming right back a few minutes later.

Eddie wipes the cum off him with a warm towel. “Want to keep the plug?”

He moves to take the fabric out of Buck’s mouth, leaving it feeling like a stretched-out rubberband.

Buck licks his lips, grimacing. “For a little while.”

“Can you sit up?”

“Nope.”

“Okay. Let’s get you lying on your side.”

They manage, and Buck curls up, enjoying his afterglow.

“Here.” Eddie crouches in front of Buck, leading the straw of a juice box inside his mouth. It bursts with flavor as he sucks. Apple, Buck guesses. It drips from the side of his mouth. He’s staining the sheets even more, but they need to be changed anyway.

Buck gives the juice box back once he finishes it. And Eddie takes it, swiping his sweaty curls back before giving him a soft, intimate kiss on the forehead. Something airy and light swells in Buck’s chest.

“You don’t need my permission either, you know. As long as we’re alone, you can just…” Eddie makes a gesture with his hand. He’s talking about sex, of course. He and Buck are only roommates with benefits, acquaintances who fuck. Buck tries to not feel disappointed about that.

“You sure?” Buck asks.

“Yeah. Philly, remember?”

“For how long?”

His roommates Lucas and Erik look at him weirdly. “A week.”

Buck stops himself from jumping for joy. “Cool. That’s cool.”

“Whatever, dude.” Connor wheels his suitcase. “Don’t wreck the place while we’re gone.”

The Uber driver takes the guys’ luggage, storing it in the trunk. Lucas, Connor, and Eric are staying at a friend’s place in Santa Monica for a music festival. That means Eddie and Buck will have the house all to themselves.

“Bye,” Buck says.

“Don’t fuck in the kitchen!” Connor yells at him.

“Ew!” Erik exclaims as they hop on the vehicle.

The car drives off, and Buck’s never been happier, although that’s topped by amazing celebration sex pretty quickly. And, of course, they christen the kitchen.

Eddie doesn’t look up when Buck comes out of the bathroom, freshly showered and only wearing the tiniest towel he could find, his goods on full display. He saunters over to him, waiting for Eddie to lift his gaze, but he just keeps watching this telenovela he’s obsessed with right now, lying lengthwise on the couch, his chest covered by a thin tank top, showing off his huge arms. The gray of his sweatpants makes his bulge look mouthwatering.

“Hey.” Buck perches himself on the armrest near Eddie’s feet. The fabric feels soft on his naked ass.

Eddie greets him with a grunt, still staring at the TV.

“How was work?” Buck asks, thumbing at Eddie’s ankle. “Tiring?”

Eddie doesn’t even answer. What the fuck? Hello?

Buck glares at him, determined. If Eddie doesn’t want to pay attention to him, he’ll make him. Eddie says Buck doesn’t need his permission, right? He can just take it.

Buck crawls over Eddie with careful movements, though he sees him wince when Buck accidentally digs his knee into his thigh. The couch is not big enough for two grown men; there’s little space that hasn’t been invaded by Eddie, but they’ll make do.  Buck clutches at the hem of Eddie’s pant, tugging, and Eddie lifts his hips a bit, eyes still pinned on the screen. What’s so interesting about Maria la del Barrio anyway? She’s not even that hot.

Eddie’s cock is soft when freed, and Buck gives it one experimental stroke from base to tip, watching Eddie’s face intently as the man ignores him. It’s a little dry, so Buck spits on his hand before wrapping his hand around the base again, squeezing, twisting on the upstroke. Eddie’s dick twitches, slowly chubbing up, but the rest of him doesn’t react.

There’s precum then, gushing as Buck thumbs his frenulum, the vein that runs down the side of his dick, spreading the sticky substance until Eddie’s slicked up and ready. That’s when Buck moves, shifting until his balls graze the wet, hard cock, taking his little makeshift dildo in his grasp before lifting his hips even higher, maneuvering himself until he feels it against his hole.

They haven’t done anal before. Not like this, anyway. But Eddie doesn’t seem to be complaining. He doesn’t even seem to care. So, Buck’s going to do whatever he wants, in case it might be the last time he’s able to.

The first time he tries to slide down, it slips out of his hand. He’s too tight.

Buck pulls a cheek apart, tries again.

The stretch stings, the hot, thick shaft invading his insides obscenely, in a brutal way that makes him throw his head back, crying out, sparks of pleasure licking up his spine. The lube he used to prep himself in the bathroom has mostly dried out, and it shows. His jaw clenches tight, letting out pitiful sounds as the pressure on his hole turns painful. Too big. There’s a growing ache in his tailbone, as if his body’s trying to make room when there isn’t any. His thighs shake, and he can’t do this. He can’t. Air doesn’t get to his lungs; he’s too full. His whole being feels like molten lava, burning as he pants, exhales ragged and unsteady.

His thighs quiver, feet trying to scramble away as he leans on his knees for support, hands flying out to grip Eddie’s shirt as he tries to take those last few inches. Eddie doesn’t even glance in his direction, focused on a storyline about Maria crying over a guy or something. Buck wants to cry too. How is he supposed to ride this mammoth of a dick? He can barely feel his legs.

“Eddie.” Buck lets out a pitiful whimper. No response.

He lifts himself with strength he didn’t even know he had, grinding down with tiny movements that punch out ah, ah, ahs out of him. It presses into his prostate with too much ease, sending flashes of white through his vision, his eyes rolling at the ecstasy. Buck’s brain turns to mush, mouth going slack at some point, drool dripping down his chin as he swivels his hips in desperation. It’s too good. Buck wants to live on Eddie’s dick forever.

He slips on sweaty knees, shoving a couple more inches that make him gasp. He whines, a callout for Eddie to take the lead, his foot stomping on the ground as he regains balance, hand flying to his own dick, only to find the towel that he wrapped around his waist what feels like a decade ago. He leaves it there—too much work—before laying his trembling hands on Eddie’s shoulders, restarting his movements, chest seizing as the pressure on that blissful spot starts to be too much, unrelenting. Something is building inside of him, and it’s so intense it’s scary, making him gurgle out urgent sounds as it grows and grows.

An explosion of pleasure, bright and blinding. The orgasm bursts out of Buck, coming from the deepest parts of him and wrecking everything in its way. His atoms feel rearranged, his body a shaking pile of limbs as he sobs, the pressure in his gut uncoiling until there’s nothing else inside of him. He just feels hollow.

“You done?” Eddie asks.

Buck can only shiver in response, slumping on the man’s chest as his body tingles.

Suddenly, Eddie plants his feet, pressing a hand on the back of Buck’s neck to immobilize him as he slams in, tearing wrecked sound out of Buck. Too much, too quick. His rim burns from the abuse. Every nerve in his body feels like a live wire as Eddie sets a punishing pace, Buck’s hands scrambling as he tries to get away, wailing while Eddie tightens his hold on his nape, the other hand on his sweaty neck.

“No,” Buck babbles, “no, no, no,” hands fisting Eddie’s top.

Eddie pinches him. “You stopping me?”

Buck shakes his head, jerking from the unexpected pain, leaning his forehead on Eddie’s chest as he tries to breathe through the assault.

“Buck, are you stopping me? I need an answer.”

“Please,” Buck chokes out. “Pl-please fuck fu-me. Uh, fu-fucking—” Buck cuts himself off with a thready whine, legs tensing as Eddie picks up the pace.

“Good boy,” Eddie croons. “Such a good hole for me.”

Buck shivers, staticky tingles running through his body, higher brain function long gone. He’s soft. It hurts; he can almost hear his pelvic bones groan from the stretch. He can’t help but mewl and mewl like a hungry kitten, pleasure racing in sharp waves through his skin.

Eddie shushes Buck, hands tightening around him. “Let me use my fleshlight, baby. Fleshlights don’t speak.”

Eddie’s hand leaves his back to come down on the curve of his ass, making it bounce once, twice. Buck cries, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Eddie smacks him again. “Open your pussy up.”

Buck gurgles something at the words, feeling like a used toy.

Eddie drops his hold on him to run a hand through his hair, to take Buck’s hands in his. But instead of holding them gently like he normally does, he leads them down to Buck’s cheeks, making him spread them wide with the help of his forceful fingers.

“That’s it. Such a good pussy.”

Buck flushes a deeper shade of red. His gaping rim flutters.

“You like my dick?”

Buck makes the herculean effort to nod, tongue lolling out because he wants to tell him that he does, his spit soaking Eddie’s tank top.

“Say you like it.”

Buck tries to speak, but only warbled noises come up.

Eddie laughs. “Oh, that’s adorable. I should have you like this all the time, so cock-dumb you’re brain-dead. You think Connor would like to help out? I should send him a text. Maybe a video to show him how much of a needy slut you are.”

Face burning with embarrassment, Buck presses his lips together, tensing as he tries to muffle his sounds.

“Fuck. Yeah, keep squeezing like that.” Eddie hammers into him even harder, his pace growing sloppy as he lets out a series of moans.

He slows down then, cock softening. He just came inside Buck. And Buck let him, has been dreaming about it since Eddie busted on his face a few months ago, wants to do it again and again.

“You’re so good for me, sweetheart. So good.” Eddie lets go of Buck's hand, stroking his back in a soothing motion.

Buck sniffles, trying to burrow his face deeper into Eddie’s chest as Eddie traces a heart in his shoulder blade with the tips of a finger.

They’re in bed, flushed and blissful, Buck’s head on Eddie’s chest again, body half-draped over him. Buck travels a hand up Eddie’s thigh, jerking back when he feels the difference in texture.

“It’s okay.” Eddie leads his hand back to a particularly nasty burn. “You can touch.”

“What happened?” Buck asks, swirling patterns on the scarred skin.

“Quarter-life crisis,” Eddie quips. Buck stares at his big, brown eyes, waiting for an honest answer.

A beat.

Eddie sighs. “There was a time in my life where everything just came down on me, and I felt so out of control. Did some stupid shit, got sent to a psych ward. It was horrible. But I’m all better now.” Eddie ceases talking, but Buck knows that if he waits in silence for a moment or two, something intimate and guarded will come out. “You know, I always… I always feel kinda empty. Like some part of me died before I knew what it was. And it got really bad.” Eddie chuckles, but it doesn’t sound happy. “Thought about enlisting just to have some dude in the desert put a bullet on me, maybe die being something my dad would be proud of. Now I’m just a f—” Eddie cuts himself off, but Buck can assume what he was going to say. “Sorry. I’m just throwing all this on you.”

Buck traces a heart over the cuts. “I used to hurt myself when I was a kid.”

“Yeah?” Eddie draws an answering heart on Buck’s hand.

“So my parents would worry. They weren’t very…attentive, I guess.”

“I’m sorry.”

The conversation’s too vulnerable; it makes something painful rattle in Buck’s ribcage. Thoughts of his family have always left him with a burning sting deep in his heart. Have his parents tried to reach out after he changed his number? Did Maddie read his letters, or just toss them in the trash?

Buck tries to change the subject. “You can fuck me while I’m asleep, you know.”

Eddie seems grateful, changing his pained expression for an infuriating smirk. “I thought this was you using me,” he says, like he’s not the one whispering things in Buck’s ear about using him like a doll while he’s wrecking the ever-loving shit out of him.

Buck shrugs with a smirk, trying to project confidence. “Could be reciprocal.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “You know you can use me however you want. What’s our safe-word?”

“Texas.”

“And if we can’t speak?”

“Three taps or two snaps depending on our range of movement.”

“Atta boy,” Eddie says, and Buck can’t help but preen, chest puffing up.

“You’re so mushy, man,” he says, trying to be nonchalant, pushing Eddie's face to the side when he tries to go in for a kiss.

Eddie laughs, getting out of the covers. “Come on. Shower.”

Buck doesn’t move. “You’re not the boss of me.”

Eddie’s hands are on him in less than a second, trying to drag him out of bed. Buck protests between laughs, shrieking while he fights back. He doesn’t want to move; his muscles still feel like jelly.

Eddie hugs his torso. Buck slaps him in the back. The world flips upside down, and Buck realizes that he’s been picked up like a sack of potatoes. Eddie’s a fucking caveman.

He wiggles like a worm. “Let me go!”

“You gotta safe word.”

“No.” Buck slaps Eddie in the ass. It’s so fat he can feel it jiggle.

Eddie does a little jump then, leaving Buck scrambling in panic.

“Oh my God,” he squeals, and Eddie crouches to put him back on solid ground.

He takes Buck by the forearm next. “Come on.”

Buck orgasms twice while they’re in that shower.

“Whatever I want, right?” Eddie whispers before jerking him off a second time, Buck’s body tingling in overstimulation.

Buck’s already hard from prepping himself, feeling warm and sensitive as he shuffles into Eddie’s room, glancing at his form propped up on the bed, leaning on the headboard as he reads.

Buck steps closer, practically barreling towards him. He tugs at his pant legs only once. Eddie turns a page of his book before he slowly lifts his fat ass off the bed, and Buck’s eyes widen as he looks at the cover. It’s the firefighter manual he used to study for exams at the academy, stolen right from his bedside drawer.

While pulling Eddie’s sweats and underwear down his knees, he considers asking him about it, but then decides it could wait. For all Buck knows, the dude’s just bored of TV.

Eddie’s cock jumps like it’s saying hello, splattering beads of precum on Eddie’s toned stomach. Buck admires it for a second, and in that second, he comes to the conclusion that this is a little gay, that liking a man’s dick isn’t straight, or is at least hetero-flexible, and wanting Eddie to know his coworkers and Maddie and meet him down the altar is even less so. Probably.

And that’s okay. Buck can be a little gay; he’s an ally.

Buck shuffles close, kissing the head of Eddie’s dick in appreciation. Then again. And again, traveling down the base, making out with the shaft as he savours the texture, the smell, the feeling. Eddie loses his composure with a small groan, hips twitching a little, and Buck can’t help but smirk. If only he’d been planning on sucking his dick, maybe then Buck would see him cry this time instead.

Eddie leaks a tiny bit of precum, and fuck, he’s so musky and manly; he wants to live between his thighs forever, but he already went through the effort of cleaning himself. So, he can do that later.

He’ll definitely do that later.

“Bye,” he whispers at the head, sticking out his tongue to taste the salty precum before turning around.

Buck inches closer to Eddie’s cock, only moving his fingers to prod at his hole when he can feel it rest on the curve of his ass. The dildo inside him comes out with a pop, Buck sighing as it slides right out. He’s been really meticulous today, working his rim until he could feel it gape open. Their tryst on the couch hadn’t left him with any tears, thank God, but it’s better to prevent these things than regret it all later, as hot as taking it like that had been at the moment.

His ass spreads open like butter, the fat cock slipping inside him until he can feel it in his throat, thighs quivering as he makes it all the way down, Eddie’s pubic hair tickling his cheeks.

Buck’s lightheaded, shuddering as he lifts himself and slams back down again, bouncing on Eddie, using his shins for leverage. The heat in his belly is starting to boil, dick hard enough to cut diamonds. He tires himself with big thrusts, thighs quivering in exertion, and then switches to little grinds that feel just as good.

Buck moans, back arching as he sees stars. Is Eddie’s still reading the manual? Is he staring, watching as Buck fucks himself on his giant dick? He’s bigger than he has any right to be. Buck has to accept that even he can’t compete.

An arm grabs him by the torso, pulling him back. Buck squeals, his back hitting Eddie’s chest, being quickly flipped over so he’s lying on his stomach.

Eddie pulls out with a hiss, and Buck sobs as his hole ripples weakly. He’s so open right now.

“Hips up,” Eddie says. “We’re doing doggy.”

Buck complies, moving to his hands and knees. He then feels a cold weight on his back. The book. Eddie’s keeping it there while he pushes in, making a home for his cock before picking it back up, flipping it open, not moving his lower half an inch.

“Eddie,” Buck whines, pressing his ass back.

“I’m reading.”

Buck huffs, dropping his forearms to the bed. He leans his head on them, breathing loud in his ears as he stares at his own naked body, the string of precum that connects his dick and his stomach, slowly dropping right back onto his head, joining the rest of it that’s leaking like a broken faucet, staining the sheets.

“Can I move?” Buck grits out.

“You can squeeze me with your pussy if you want.”

Buck tries to clench, but his rim barely listens.

“It’s too loose for that, isn’t it? Did you get fucked too hard?” Eddie coos, rubbing his flank. “How many guys? Five? Twenty? Thirty? And you’re not even gay.”

“No one,” Buck breathes out, balls feeling heavier and heavier with arousal. “Just you.”

Eddie hums, patting his head. “I don’t believe that. A used-up hole like this,”—Eddie traces his stretched rim with the pad of a finger, making Buck shudder—“it belongs to a dirty whore.”

“No.” Buck shakes his head.

“No?” Eddie chuckles.

“Yours.” Buck tries to clench again. “I’m yours.”

Buck hears the book snapping closed.

“Mine,” Eddie says, sounding pensive. “My slut? My hole? My baby?”

Buck whines. “Baby.”

“That’s what you wanna be today?” Eddie trails a gentle hand down his back. “My baby?”

“Yes,” Buck breathes out.

Eddie shifts an inch away before he slides right back to the hilt, letting out a sharp exhale. Buck gasps at the movement, his back bowing as he chases the feeling that's setting his nerve endings alight. Eddie does it again, rutting into him with little force, a sweet, unhurried movement that melts Buck into a puddle, drooling on the sheets.

“This okay, mi amor?” Eddie asks. Buck trembles all over. Fuck, he didn’t know Eddie could actually speak Spanish.

Buck tries to hum affirmatively, but it comes out high in his throat, a thready moan more than anything else. Arousal coils in his stomach, and chasing the height of that mounting pressure, he tries to meet Eddie’s hips with his own, which only makes Eddie slow down even more.

Buck lets out a frustrated noise.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Eddie asks, voice cotton-soft. “What’s wrong with my princess?”

Buck hiccups something pathetic, dick twitching, brain stuttering before he can say anything coherent.

“If you don’t say anything, I’ll stop,” Eddie says, and his tone’s almost taunting.

Buck gasps out, “More.”

“More what?” Eddie grins a little quicker this time, a surprise that makes Buck groan before he switches back to a slow rhythm.

“F-faster,” Buck pants.

“But I can’t read my book if I go faster,” Eddie says, and Buck can hear him turning a page. He’s actually reading, the fucker. “Maybe if I hunch over…I can try for my baby, can’t I?”

Before Buck’s even nodding like a maniac, he can feel the spine of the manual between his shoulder blades, Eddie’s hands on the sides of the cover, the weight of them growing as Eddie changes position. Buck’s pretty sure he’s crouching now, feet planted far apart, Buck’s hips or right between them.

Eddie slams in then, a hard movement that leaves Buck reeling. It makes him throw his head back, crying out as it makes a bout of liquid pleasure explore inside of him. He tries to find purchase in the bed sheets as Eddie continues with his onslaught, driving in like he’s trying to gut Buck on his cock, squelches sounding out as he wrecks his hole, loud slaps as his balls hit Buck’s ass again and again, making it jiggle.

“Fuck. You like that?” Eddie heaves. “Does my bratty little princess like being fucked stupid?”

“Yes,” Buck moans. “Oh, God. F-faster. Ye—” He whines, clawing at the sheets. His limbs are shaky. Eddie’s weight is starting to be too much. He face-plants with a gasp, and Eddie doesn’t stop, unraveling Buck with every indulgent twist of the hips, pressing Buck’s face deeper into the mattress.

“Jerk yourself off,” Eddie says, sounding out of breath,

Buck snakes a hand down to his dick, pumping hurriedly, the wet sounds joining the squelching noise of his ass being bullied by Eddie’s dick, so open it can’t even fight back. Buck’s cheek is being smushed into the mattress. His balls draw tighter, shockwaves of heat going up his spine. His gut twists, damp sweat cooling on his forehead, his back, and it all transforms into sudden ecstasy, making him wail as he unwittingly thrusts back, hiccuping as Eddie hammers once, twice, before pulling out. Buck drags himself back until his knees are flush with his chest, exhausted, spurting so much come it hits him in the throat.

The book gets put somewhere. Buck falls to his side, enjoying the calm of the afterglow. Eddie slips right behind him, hugging him, giving him a kiss on the neck before signaling Buck to lift his leg a little. He can feel the tip of Eddie’s dick right against his hole, and he melts, waiting to get fucked even harder, but Eddie barely presses the head inside.

“Clench,” Eddie says.

Buck bites his lips, doing as he’s told, something self-conscious burning behind his ribcage.

“I said clench.”

Buck feels his eyes sting. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Try harder.”

Buck tenses until he’s red in the face, sighing in relief when he feels his rim pulse around Eddie’s tip, kissing it as he did a few minutes earlier.

Eddie’s breath hitches. “That’s it.”

The muscles in Buck’s hole ripple, weak but trying with all their might to make out with Eddie’s cock, closing around the head before relaxing. Buck feels the movement of a hand, hears the grunts and groans, the sound of a wet dick being tugged before something trickles out of his ass when Eddie’s head slips away, replaced by wandering fingers that scoop the come back in.

“So…the fire academy?” Buck asks, warm and comfortable.

“Maybe,” Eddie says, pulling his fingers out and leaving Buck empty. “How are you feeling? From 1 to 10.”

“10 out of 10, dude. I like it when you take control. You should be taking me whenever.”

“Whenever?”

“Like when I rode you, yeah. Just bend me over and fuck me; I’ll safe-word if it’s not the time. Maybe, since we’re alone, I’ll just walk around naked as a signal? That could work.”

Eddie swallows audibly. “Sweet.”

“Oh-oh my—” Buck braces his palms on the countertop, fingers curled, knuckles turning white.

“Keep stirring, baby,” Eddie whispers in his ears, still slamming into him like an animal, making Buck’s stomach feel warm and squishy.

Buck’s knees buckle. “Can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” Eddie’s balls are smacking him unrelentingly on the cheeks. “Keep working like a good boy.”

A pathetic mewl builds on Buck’s throat, and he tries to swallow it down, hiccuping pitiful moans in the process. Eddie’s hand splays over his lower stomach, his pinky pulling at the hair on his happy trail, making Buck hiss at the sting.

“I think I can feel a bulge,” Eddie says.

Buck fish-mouths, heaving out a “What?”

Eddie leads Buck’s hand to where he did, making him press.

“I don’t feel anything.”

“Wait.” Eddie thrusts again, and Buck can feel the very, very slight rise of skin. “See?”

“Oh my G-g—” A wave of pure pleasure crashes into Buck, making his legs shake even harder. Eddie leads his hand back onto the counter, and Buck leans on it like a lifetime.

‘He’s ruining me,’ Buck thinks, horny out of his mind. Eddie keeps punching into him, churning his insides, leaving him delirious and stupid.

Buck’s hollowing his cheeks to suck when he feels him come to, Eddie’s breathing changing rhythm. A hand presses his head further into the hard cock in his mouth, making his throat convulse as he gags.

“Morning,” Eddie's voice sounds so low and sexy when he wakes up, gravely in a way that has a needy heat rushing through his Buck. “Couldn’t wait ‘til I was awake?”

If Buck’s mouth wasn’t occupied, he’d tell Eddie he really, really couldn’t. Because, the thing is, Eddie looks extra beautiful under the moonlight, ethereal as his face softens in sleep, body like a sculpture in Versailles. The portrait of a God, and the only thing Buck wants is to kneel at his altar.

He’s lying on his side in Eddie’s bed, scrolling through a Wikipedia article, when he hears him come in. Eddie shuffles around the room before slipping inside the covers and kissing Buck in the jaw, making him giggle when he pretends to bite with an ‘Argh.’

Buck taps on the page for bisexuality. “Did you know about the Kinsey Scale?”

“Yeah, why?”

“It’s kind of interesting. I think I might be bisexual.”

Eddie stills. “Really?”

“Yeah, man, you know…” Buck turns his head to meet Eddie’s eyes. “I really like you. And, in hindsight, that obsession I had with this guy Omar from—” He gasps into Eddie’s mouth as he’s devoured, jumping when two fingers tug at his nipple, one of them digging its nail in, making it hurt a bit.

The kisses get more frantic, sloppy and hurried, before Eddie pulls away, grabbing the lube from the nightstand. Buck gets with the program, pulling a knee to his chest.

“You stretched from earlier?”

Buck nods. “Yeah.”

Honestly, his hole is a little sensitive right now; it’s been practically fucked raw this week, but Buck’s not one to turn down sex, so…

Buck gasps, biting his lip as Eddie slips a finger in. His rim feels like it’s on fire, but the expert touch makes the feeling mix with shockwaves of pure, electric need.

Eddie pulls out. “Just wanted to check.”

Buck clenches the pillow under his head. “Just hurry up, please.”

Eddie strokes his arm. “Anything for my baby.”

The press of his cock makes Buck lose control of his legs, biting the meat of his palm as to not disturb the neighbors with his lewd groan. Eddie’s the one who holds him in place, his hand joining the one that Buck had under his knee, the other on Buck’s sternum as he pushes him further and further on his dick, spearing him open.

The thrusts are uncomfortable, but the coil tight in his gut, threatening to snap, makes up for that fact. There’s pleasure there, bright and tingling, and Buck zeros in on it like it’s the last thing he does.

“You okay?” Eddie whispers. “You’re wincing.”

“Okay,” Buck grits out, sweat building in his upper lip, face scrunching up as Eddie pulls back, entering him slow and sweet.

Eddie’s hand skims the planes of his abs, his quivering stomach, before outright palming his dick.

It’s then that everything draws to a halt.

“Are you—You’re not hard?” Eddie’s question rings in his ears, something in his voice sounding like disappointment or disapproval. Eddie’s never talked to him like this before.

Buck swallows. “It happens. I jerk off too much.”

“Jerk off? Uh, h—You’ve been jerking off?” Eddie pulls out slowly, making Buck let out a pained hiss. “We’ve been having non-stop sex the entire week.”

“I like orgasms.”

“That’s not—Buck, this isn’t normal.”

“I know.” Buck closes his eyes; he doesn’t want to see the disgust in Eddie’s face.

“You need help.”

“I know.”

“Buck, look at me.” Eddie cups his jaw, caressing him with his thumb until Buck dares to take a peek at his expression—he looks as kind as he always does, with a hint of concern. “A therapist. We’ll find you a therapist.”

“I-I can’t.” Buck’s lip trembles. “I had sex with my last therapist.”

Eddie’s brows turned into something heartbreakingly sad, his dark eyes glittering. “Oh, sweetheart. Do you wanna talk about it? We’ll go together.”

Buck can’t believe what he’s hearing. “W-what?”

“I’ll be there, every step of the way.”

Buck swallows down a sob. Eddie doesn’t hate him. Eddie’s holding him like he’s precious, tracing hearts on his skin.

“Eddie,” Buck says the name like a prayer. “Are we friends?”

“We’re more than friends.”

“Just because we fuck?”

Eddie chuckles, laughing fondly like Buck’s being endearing. “No, because we spend all of our free time together, and we make each other laugh, and you make me food, and I bought you a bed frame that’ll arrive any minute now.”

“What?”

“We’re there for each other. You are the best person I’ve ever met, Buck.”

“You bought me a bed frame?”

Eddie presses their lips together softly. “I think I’d die for you.”

It’s so loving it makes Buck a little teary, something unraveling deep inside his ribcage.

“I think so too,” he admits, trusting that Eddie will take that information and cradle it with care.

“So, do you wanna…maybe go on a date with me next Saturday?” Eddie asks. It leaves the conversation feeling lighter.

Buck wrinkles his nose, smirking like a jerk. “Umm, I dunno.”

“I’ll pick you up at eight.” Eddie pecks him on the nose. “Bring you flowers.” Open-mouthed on the cheek, making him squirm. “Take you to this taco place down the street.” On his birthmark.

Buck’s breath gets caught in his throat.

“You’ll love it,” Eddie’s voice gets quieter. “I swear.”

Buck looks at him and knows they’ll get married someday. He wants to tell him that.

“But I’ll pay,” he says instead.

Eddie kisses him in response.