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In his defense, Buck had been left unsupervised.
Well, that is not quite right. He had actually been left with Ravi. But, you know. In the grand scheme of things? Tomayto, tomahto.
So really, in his defense, Buck had been left unsupervised. And he had been just drunk enough to not think about this being a bad idea. He maybe had not thought about Tommy's reaction to all of this. And maybe not about the fact that Maddie was most likely going to kill him for this when he was inevitably going to run to her and have that next emotional breakdown. He maybe also hadn't really thought of-
Again, not quite right. He had been thinking of nothing but Eddie that night.
--
It - the entire situation that Buck finds himself in - that, that starts earlier, though.
Maybe it starts somewhere around the helicopter ride after Hen could not find Bobby and Athena’s cruise ship. Maybe it starts on warm tarmac, at a basketball game of all things. Maybe it was always there in the back of his mind, and he just never dusted off that box in the last crevice of his brain right there.
One thing Buck knows however is that it has already started when Tommy Kinard knocks on his door. It is a fluttering feeling somewhere deep down in his chest at first. He is used to feeling anxious, and this experience is not unlike it. The uneasy, indescribable feeling in the pit of his stomach, that makes his heart beat faster and his emotions feel ten times worse and better at the same time.
He does not know what Tommy wants from him, not tonight and not in general, but he has an inkling what he might want from Tommy, at least in an abstract sort of way where it feels like he craves attention. Tommy’s attention, if he is not mistaken. It is the same feeling he felt so often when he was still a kid. When his parents would only give him an ounce of affection when he acted out, hurt himself, did something stupid that he could not take back later.
In a way, he has always known how to act out, it seems. That is what he is going to call whatever happened between Tommy and Eddie and him this past week. Yeah. Acting out. It feels better than admitting to wanting attention. Or affection. Better than admitting he might have reacted in jealousy because he felt like he was phased out of his best friend’s life, another man so similar to Eddie taking over the place in Eddie’s life that was rightfully Buck’s.
It takes an awkward moment in which Buck takes a breath and screws his head back on straight, just staring at Tommy and his stupid, handsome face. At least enough to remember to try and be a good host. “Can I get you something? I still owe you a beer, right?”
He doesn’t even wait for Tommy’s reply, just starts for the fridge.
Buck is still so far inside his own head, he almost doesn’t catch Tommy walking closer, starting a conversation Buck isn’t sure he wants to have, if he is being honest with himself. “No, I’m good. I won’t stay long. I just wanted to clear the air, and I didn’t want to do it over the phone or in a text or something.”
And that stops Buck dead in his tracks. The cold bottle of beer is held in his hand, the fridge still halfway open. He catches himself staring down at the label of the beer for a second - there in his hand, he finds, he has absentmindedly gravitated towards the beer that Eddie likes. It’s overpriced and tastes like piss, but it is instinct at this point to grab a six pack and store it in his fridge for when Eddie comes over. Buck catches himself, puts the beer on his counter, tries to swallow to wet his throat at least somewhat and looks up at Tommy.
“Clear the air about what?,” he asks, his brain already running a mile a minute ahead in this conversation. His perception of the world narrows as his heart jack-rabbits in his chest. He has to focus on Tommy to catch his words, the sound of his blood rushing through his veins drowning out everything else. His breath comes too fast and possibly too loud. The condensation from the beer bottle is an unpleasant feeling pressing into his fingers, a cold sensation seeping through him.
Tommy takes a step closer to the counter. “Obviously, I’ve been the cause of some bad blood between you and Eddie, and I just want you to know that was never my intention.”
And - oh.
Buck releases the breath he didn’t realize he was holding slowly. He can relax. And he does, his face pulling into a small smile. “There’s no bad blood.”
“Evan.” The look Tommy sends him can only be described as incredulous. Oh.
So this is how it is.
Something inside him snaps at that, his spine feels like it melts right out of his body, and his knees almost give out on him. And if his voice comes out a little more breathy than before, that won’t leave his apartment. “Really. No bad blood. Just…,” and he takes a moment to gather his thoughts. How to explain that wanting Tommy’s attention would lead to all of this? “...bad behavior. And it’s all on my part. You guys didn’t do anything wrong. You and Eddie as buddies makes perfect sense.”
He can feel himself overcorrecting in this exact moment. He does not mean to bring up Eddie again, what he does mean is to apologize. To make Tommy understand.
But from what he can see, from Tommy shifting his body weight from one leg to the other, Tommy is seeing right through him. Can read any insecurity on his face, and he does know what Buck is not saying outright.
"Yeah, we do. And you know he can have more than one friend, right?”
It is so absurd that it makes Buck chuckle. Apparently, Tommy cannot read his exact thoughts. Does not know that Buck just wants Tommy to look at him like that all the time, all intense dark eyes, scrutinizing him. “Yes, I do know that."
It is so absurd to Buck that he blanks on the conversation, if he is being honest with himself. He barely hears what Tommy is saying. Just knows that he can move closer, his heart calming down, as he makes his way around his kitchen counter.
The first thing that Buck consciously recognizes as words again are “-he feels bad. We both do. Nobody meant to exclude you, Evan. Eddie and I hanging out, it wasn’t about you.”
When Tommy finally moves closer, Buck can actively feel his brain shutting down. There is something electric happening between them and he cannot focus on their conversation at hand. He finds himself stuck on Tommy’s gaze, locked into a heated stare that somewhere in the back of his mind, he can probably place, if he actually wants to think about it for longer than two seconds.
The feeling in his chest unfurls and it is no longer the anxiety that he thought he was harboring. He can’t quite place it.
Not until he finds himself saying: “My sister says there are better ways to get someone’s atten-”
Not until Tommy grabs his chin gently and presses their lips together in a kiss so gentle, Buck has to reevaluate a lot of his life choices. Tommy kisses him so softly, loosening the grip on his chin, just to hold onto his waist instead, pulling him closer and pressing their bodies together. Buck’s brain honestly whites out for the entirety of the kiss.
And there it is: the big elephant in the room. Because there have been so many things in his life that Buck has never known with any certainty, just in theory. In theory, he is an ally, he is cool with people being gay, and he actively likes seeing people be themselves at pride parades all around the continent.
All this to say, he may just be a bit more than an ally. Especially when he finds his gaze drawn back to Tommy’s lips again and again, kind of wishing he had the courage to lean in again.
In the end, that is essentially how he slips into this situation. It’s the realization that he is bisexual, that he likes kissing men as well as women, that he is finally free.
The fact that over the next two weeks, he goes out with Tommy a number of times. That he invites Tommy to be his date to his sister’s wedding. That he thinks he is ready for something and that he wants that something to be with Tommy.
That. That is what lands him in this fuck-up of an incident.
--
Their shift is suspiciously quiet, but Buck would not say that out loud under threat of death. So, he holds his tongue and instead suggests playing some Mortal Kombat on their console, while Bobby prepares lunch for all of them, granted only as long as the alarm doesn’t interrupt.
He finds himself sitting almost on top of Eddie, pressed onto the couch as they are. Hen and Chimney are somewhere around, close to them, just enjoying the relaxed atmosphere around the station. From the kitchen, they can hear Bobby humming softly as he chops bell peppers. From the stairs, Buck can make out footsteps, and he reasons it’s Ravi deigning to join them in the loft.
“You good for another round?,” he finds himself asking, already half-turning towards Eddie, as if he has to check at all. In actuality, he has already pressed the button to start a rematch. Ah, the illusion of choice between Eddie and him. The thought makes him grin, as his eyes find his best friend’s dark gaze. Eddie’s shoulder nudges him slightly, throwing him off balance, as he has to lean further into his best friend to avoid crashing onto the floor in front of the couch. Somehow, he does not mind this chain of events one bit.
“Stop letting me win,” Eddie murmurs and Buck is sure he would have missed it if he hadn’t sat as close.
“I would never let you win,” he exclaims, a laugh bubbling out of his throat. It is unexpected, but not unwelcome. He loves hanging out with his family. He loves how loved they make him feel. For the first time in a long while, Buck takes a moment to gaze around the room and take in all of his friends - his chosen family - and accept for himself that he is happy.
The feeling stays with him, even when he misses the start of the round and Eddie gets a good hit in, while he is still distracted. Buck is sure to make up for it by - essentially - smashing every button at the same time and hoping it does anything at all to Eddie’s character.
It is a great moment, especially when he looks at Eddie and finds his best friend grinning brightly. He remembers moments when it had felt like Eddie had been made of tears and trauma and endless heaps of hopelessness all mixed into another. He remembers when Eddie had whispered, as if confessing, that he was afraid of never feeling normal again.
Something warm and fluttering opens up in his chest and Buck cannot help but smile as well.
In that exact moment, two things happen simultaneously.
First, Eddie catches him staring, bodily turning into his warmth. Eddie’s eyes soften when their gazes meet and his bright grin melts into a small, genuinely happy smile that is just reserved for Buck and Christopher. It makes Buck’s heart skip a beat and for a second, the feeling in his chest feels so overwhelmingly like something he recognizes as the same fluttering he had when Tommy kissed him, standing in the refrigerator light in his kitchen, but Buck pushes the thought away as-
- as, second, his phone chirps happily from the kitchen counter.
Slowly returning Eddie’s soft smile, Buck mutters a quiet "sorry" and gets up from his position on top of the older firefighter, his feet becoming slightly tangled with Eddie’s own as he steps over his best friend. With the same expression on his face still in place, he makes his way to Bobby and Ravi, who by now has taken over cutting vegetables.
Picking up his phone, he sees a text.
Tommy: Just wanted to make sure we match. This good for the wedding?
Attached to the message is a picture of a mirror selfie. Buck takes a second to take in Tommy, standing in a beautiful navy blue suit that almost looks black in the light of the room. His shirt is a soft baby pink, a dark tie slung haphazardly around his neck. Buck finds his gaze drifting lower over the picture and stops dead in his tracks. Tommy’s belt is unbuckled, both sides lazily flapping down, perfectly framing where the button and zipper on his suit pants are undone, revealing a sliver of black, skin-tight boxer briefs.
Immediately, Buck can feel heat rush to his cheeks, his heart skipping a beat before falling into overdrive, hammering inside his chest. For a second, he fumbles his phone and thinks he might just drop it, before his fingers wrap around it securely. Without even thinking about it, Buck locks his phone again and drops it onto the kitchen counter with a clatter.
Bobby beside him startles at the sound and glances up from his pan, taking in Buck’s flushed face with a suspicious glance. “What’s got you so flustered?”
“Uh…,” Buck replies, trying to jumpstart his brain back into coherent activity. “Just a text.”
“Who’s texting you? All your friends are here,” Hen adds helpfully from the couch.
With a quick glance around, he realizes that everyone’s attention has shifted to him. “Um, you know…”
Eddie glances up and their gazes lock. The older firefighter sends him a small smile and a short nod, encouraging him. Buck knows there is nothing to fear - not with his family here. All of them are supportive in their own ways, so he takes a deep breath.
“M-my boyfriend texted me.”
Immediately he is met with shouts of excitement from Hen and Chimney, a wide smile from Bobby and a raised brow and grin from Ravi. Hen jumps up, pulling Buck into the tightest hug he has ever gotten in his life, as she whispers congratulatory words into his ear. He feels a hand clap his shoulder and cranes his neck to catch Chimney wrapping his arms around Hen and him.
“Congrats, little brother, I knew you’d get there someday.”
Buck splutters, a protest already on his lips, when Chimney’s eyes go wide.
“Wait, I meant, having a significant other, not…,” Chimney trails off awkwardly.
For a second, Buck just leaves his friend hanging, before he bursts out laughing, pulling Chimney into another hug. “Come here, I know that.”
When Hen and Chimney finally let him go, Bobby is there, a reassuring hand placed on Buck’s shoulder. With a private smile, he pulls Buck into a hug as well. “I’m proud of you, kid. And thank you for telling all of us.”
From the corner of his eye, Buck can see Eddie still on the couch, watching the entire spectacle with a wide smile on his face. The same soft expression that graced his features before still shining brightly at Buck. For a moment, Buck’s breath catches in his throat, a traitorous thought entering his mind that surely this is what love looks like in a facial expression. He hopes his face is doing something similar when he smiles back at Eddie.
Immediately, guilt crashes into him, almost choking him in its intensity, like a clutching hand wrapping around his heart, and a punch in his stomach all at the same time. I was literally just blushing over my actual boyfriend, he thinks to himself. For now, he pushes all those thoughts down.
Only then does he notice Ravi. The youngest firefighter is still standing at the kitchen counter, the knife he was using for chopping vegetables also still held in his hand. He watches attentively as Ravi blinks slowly, puts the knife down and then comes over. “I wasn’t even aware you weren’t out yet. Congrats, bro, welcome to the community,” he claps a hand on Buck’s shoulder, before a smirk overtakes his lips. “Just so you know, that means you’re coming to the club with me and Lucy. This needs to be celebrated.”
Buck groans, but cannot suppress the smile that seems to be permanently etched onto his face now. All emotions fall from him in a surge of relief, his heart lighter in his chest at the acceptance and love surrounding him. The same fluttering feeling from his kitchen returns in full effect when he catches Eddie’s happy grin, Hen’s kind smile, Bobby’s fatherly love etched into every inch of his proud expression, Chimney still holding onto his shoulder like an older brother would.
Before he can verbalize any of what he is feeling, though, the alarm rings.
With a glance around, he can tell everybody is inwardly groaning, having to head out before any of them can have Bobby’s lunch, before they make haste to get into the truck and do their job.
--
“Okay, gang. Here is what we know: we’ve been called to a collapsing hotel. Apparently the structural integrity of their basement has been compromised in the earthquake a couple years ago. The manager said they didn’t have time to fix any of it just yet. Now, reportedly, there are victims still on the third and fifth floor of the building, according to the reservation logs,” Bobby drones on through the headset while they’re all restlessly sitting in the back of the fire engine. “Buck and Eddie, you’re going up to the fifth floor, depending on how the building is looking, and whether the 133 is already on site. Hen and Chim, you’re on triage outside. Ravi, you and I take the third floor.”
For his troubles, Bobby receives various mumbled affirmative answers.
Buck, as always, is sitting right next to Eddie in the engine. Restlessly, he pulls out his phone, still two minutes from the site, just now remembering that he never actually answered his boyfriend’s text.
Buck: Looking great! And I’ll find something to match you!
Then, again bored out of his mind, but feeling adrenaline set into his bloodstream, he knocks his knee into Eddie’s, waits until his best friend glances over at him and then sends him a smile. Eddie answers with his own small smile, a questioning eyebrow raised.
“You good?,” Eddie asks.
“Yeah, just… not excited? Anxious, maybe?” Suddenly his hands in his lap seem incredibly interesting, his fingers drumming a beat into his thigh.
Eddie catches Buck’s hand in his own, pulling their intertwined fingers into his lap. Slowly, he guides the tips of his fingers over the back of Buck’s hand, drawing soothing circles into Buck’s skin. Heat crushes through him, every single one of Eddie’s touches setting his skin on fire. A gasp lodges in his throat at the simple gesture. Taking no notice of anything, Eddie murmurs, in his most reassuring and soothing dad-voice: “It’s going to be fine. We’ve done this multiple times before. We are trained for this.”
Buck’s breath catches and he has to force himself to breathe through it, his heart stuttering in his chest. His fingers clamp down on Eddie’s hand nervously. His voice comes out shaky, the wisps of an ominous feeling starting to uncurl in his chest, and more nervous than he wants to admit, when he can finally answer: “Just don’t go far from me in there.”
The fire engine finally pulls up on site, Bobby already opening his own door to jump into action. Hen and Chimney are already out of the engine by the time Eddie answers him. “I promise,” follows him, as he jumps out and risks a glance at the collapsing building.
It is hauntingly similar to the hotel they were called to during the earthquake. Back when Eddie had been a probie. Back when Buck had not known about Christopher yet. Back when they weren’t Buck-And-Eddie yet.
The first two floors seem to have collapsed into the basement, the ground littered with glass shards and huge chunks of debris. Buck can barely make out where the fifth floor is supposed to be anymore. If there truly are people still inside, the 118 will have to hurry to get them out. Even without any knowledge on the condition of the hotel, Buck can see that the entire building is as unstable as it can get before it entirely collapses.
“Buck, Eddie, the 133 already has their ladder in position, get up there!” Bobby’s voice pierces through the air, and shakes Buck from his thoughts. He falls into step with Eddie as they make their way to the fifth floor, ready to get everyone out who might still be left.
“LAFD, is anyone still here?,” Buck yells into the half-collapsed hallway. There are no responses, but they need to check every room anyway, just in case somebody fell and is currently unconscious.
It takes a while to work through most of the rooms on the floor, and neither Eddie nor him find anyone, breath held every time they open another door, check another en suite bathroom, until the last room. As Buck calls out again, he thinks he hears a small voice answer.
Over their radio, Bobby’s voice comes back: “Eddie, Buck! Ravi and I are finished on the third floor, making our way out. Evacuate as soon as possible, the structural integrity keeps worsening.”
“Copy that, Cap!” Eddie replies for both of them.
“I thought I heard something in the last room, let’s check that one and then get out of here.”
“Great,” Eddie answers, half a step behind Buck.
“LAFD, anyone in here?” Buck yells again, as he pushes open the last door on their floor. Inside, furniture has tumbled from its assigned places, glass shards sticking out of the carpet from destroyed window panes. At first glance, nobody is inside, but there are clothes strewn around the room, an open suitcase having tumbled from the bed during the collapse of the lower levels.
“I’ll check the en suite,” Eddie states, as Buck risks another glance around the room.
“Sure, be quick about it,” Buck says absentmindedly, “We need to be out of here as soon as possible.”
Eddie sends him another smirk, ducking into the bathroom.
While Eddie is in the other room, Buck makes his way around, checking below fallen furniture, to make sure he doesn’t miss anything. He hears Eddie walk around, then his footsteps halt abruptly.
“You find anything?” he yells over to the en suite.
“No, I don’t think so.”
Buck heaves a sigh, finishing his tour of the room. “Seems like this one is empty as well. Let’s get out of here.”
“Great. Good decision.”
He is just about to turn around and walk into the hallway, when Eddie steps out of the en suite, the light catching him just right and-
Oh.
Oh.
Oh no.
In the grand scheme of things, Buck does not want to have the realization right now. He has a boyfriend who actually wants to go on dates with him. He loves his job and his family. And Eddie has-
His thoughts get interrupted by an ominous groaning sound, a rumbling coming from right below his feet, followed by a cracking. It takes him two seconds to realize what is about to happen, his heart already in his throat, swallowing whatever he was going to say, when the entire building gives a rumbling shake, as if exhaling one last sigh on its way out of existence. Before he can make a conscious decision, the floor gives out below his feet, as the ceiling crashes down, hitting his shoulder as he tumbles.
“Oh, fuck-,” he hears himself yell before he collapses to the ground below. Thanking all his lucky stars that the floor below him doesn’t give out as well, he lets himself fall back, managing to tumble into a pocket of space that obstructs him from the rest of the falling debris.
As the dust settles around him, he realizes one seemingly important piece of information. Eddie. His partner is no longer visible to him. No sound comes through over the ominous rumble of more building cracking, falling and crashing around him. He looks around, trapped in this little space, searching for any clue of Eddie, who was right there, and now isn’t.
“Eddie?” he yells, hoping that his voice carries over the sound of a falling building.
No answer.
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, heat rushing through him, his heartbeat loud in his own ear. Buck tries getting up, but the debris has fallen in such a way that he is boxed in. The space is tiny around him, so he can't really get up without the risk of moving some of the debris. He can feel his hands trembling where they are braced against the collapsed wall behind him. His sight blurs for a second, tears gathering and running down over his cheeks as he desperately tries to calm down. Trying to avoid shock settling in. From his position, he cannot see if any of the debris around him is stable in any way, or if any of it is keeping the ceiling above him from collapsing. No way he can tell whether he can move any of it to get out and look for his best friend.
“Eds?” He yells again, louder this time.
There is no answer, not a single sound floating through to Buck. Just ominous silence.
“God, fuck, no,” he mumbles to himself, tears falling from his eyes, and landing heavily on his turnout coat. His sight blurs worse than before, and for a second, a heavy feeling settles in the pit of his stomach, despair crashing over him.
Buck feels it in his bones. He cannot do this, will not survive if the worst case happens. There is pressure building behind his ribs, choking him and stealing every thought from him that is not Eddie. He cannot have had that realization - that little moment right there in a ruined hotel room, his partner stepping out of an en suite, covered in dust, but the light catching in his eyes, reflecting like stars, so beautiful - and then immediately lose-
“God, please, I love him, don’t let him be hurt when I am just stuck here,” he pleads desperately. Bracing himself against the debris, ready to push it away, consequences be damned, he takes another deep breath, blinking away the tears and starts yelling as loud as he can: “EDDIE!”
A soft groan answers him.
Immediately the pressure releases, his ribs expanding on a desperate inhale, the air being pushed from his lungs in a heavy breath. Replacing his despair is soft relief spreading through his veins. “Eddie, are you there?”
He hears a slow cough, then quietly, right across from the debris. “Yeah.”
“Are you hurt?”
“...uuuhhh… no,” Eddie replies hesitantly. “No, I’m fine. Didn’t hit my head, landed weirdly and maybe rolled my ankle, but I’m fine.”
Buck sighs into the cramped space around him. His shoulders slump and the tension leaves his body. Eddie is okay, he is fine, this is okay.
“That’s good,” he says, more to himself than Eddie.
“Are you hurt?”
“No, I got lucky,” he laughs, but it comes out more wetly than he was hoping for. This time, there are tears of relief clouding his vision, slowly spilling over his cheeks. With trembling hands, he reaches up, trying to wipe them away to no avail. They are only replaced by new wet trails.
“Firefighters Buckley and Diaz, come in!” Buck flinches as Bobby’s voice fills the silence around him. The radio still attached to his chest crackles again, and he can tell Bobby is more worried than he lets on through his voice. “Firefighters Buckley and Diaz, where are you?”
“We’re here. Eddie might have rolled his ankle, but we’re fine, just some bruises. I think I might be stuck between some debris, but just because I can’t tell how stable the ceiling is if I move it.”
“Copy,” then quieter, “We’re gonna get you out. Don’t worry. We’re here.”
--
Eddie is mostly uninjured, as far as Hen and Chimney proclaim. Buck himself gets away with some bruises and a scare. But he is still shaky on his legs when they return to the station, when Bobby proclaims that he asked dispatch to take the 118 off the roster for a couple hours. A heavy sigh runs through the entire station, as everyone gathers around to take a moment after the events of their latest call.
After lunch, the group disperses, with Hen and Chimney restocking the ambulance, and Eddie slinking off to the bunk room to catch a nap. As Bobby retreats with an excuse of paperwork, Buck makes his way to clean the dishes.
That is how Ravi finally finds him.
“By the way, if you’re still feeling up to it, Lucy and I are going out tonight,” Ravi starts, coming to a stop beside Buck. The younger man is already looking for a hand towel to start drying the dishes, just keeping him company. “I wasn’t joking earlier. You should come. And I think after that scare, you need a little pick-me-up. Just a couple of drinks.”
And after the day Buck has had until that point? With unfortunate realizations at the worst possible time, publicly coming out to his found family, and on top of that being pinned into a small space by collapsing brick and fallen furniture. After all of that? He looks up, catches Ravi’s gaze and just nods his head.
“Sounds good, where and when?”
--
When Buck wakes, the sun is streaming through his curtains and as far as he is aware, it is actively trying to kill him with its brightness. Releasing an unnaturally deep groan, coming from the bottom of his heart, he turns his head further into his pillow. A stray thought goes out to wonder what might have crawled into his mouth and died there last night.
It takes a moment until the events from the night before pour back into his consciousness, but when they do, he immediately sits up, sunshine be damned. (His head disagrees with that decision, but Buck is nothing if not tough when it comes to ignoring pain. Especially when it’s just a hangover, and there is Tylenol in his bathroom.)
He remembers drinking with Ravi. Remembers Lucy coming in late, hugging him tight and congratulating him on finding a boyfriend, congratulating him on coming out to all of them. She said something about missing the “fruity squad” and he is only barely aware of what she meant by that. He does remember drinking more, dancing, a bunch of cute people flirting with all three of them - sometimes even at the same time.
And then he remembers. When Ravi had asked about his boyfriend, all of them pleasantly buzzed. And he remembers how he started talking about Tommy, saying things like “he is so confident.” and “he really understands what this all is like." and “he has a cleft and he is so attractive and I love when he kisses me.” and “did you know he knows how to fly helicopters?”.
With every word, Ravi’s eyebrow had risen higher on his face. Until the youngest of the three had finally asked “But does he have your back?”
Something inside his chest had clenched painfully, as he had slumped in his seat. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “I really like him and I want there to be something there, between him and me. But it’s not like-”
Buck trailed off awkwardly, his realization fresh in his mind, like a bleeding and gaping wound. Something that he could not ignore. At least not anymore, not now that every thought he had was somehow leading down the road to Eddie.
Lucy piped up for the first time in a while in their quiet conversation. “Not like… with Diaz?”
When Buck looked up, she had sent him a small, reassuring smile, her eyes tinged with a slight sadness that Buck hadn’t seen like that on her before. He was still unsure whether she pitied him or was waiting for him to make the obvious connection there.
With a sigh, he let his forehead crash onto the surface of the table in front of him. “I know,” he had mumbled, “I’ve gotten to that- that knowledge on my own. I know, okay?”
Ravi had just petted his head lovingly.
“I think you need another drink, to be honest,” Lucy had added, the absolute saint that she is. Now, in the light of morning he curses the decision to add another drink on top of his already severe alcohol intake.
The rest of the night honestly escapes him. He has no idea what happened after Lucy got that drink, no idea what he ended up doing after that drink and no idea how he got home after all of it.
With another groan, he lets himself fall back into his pillows. Slowly, he pries his eyes open, squinting against the stark sunlight, hitting him right in the face. His hand falls heavily onto his nightstand, picking up his phone, just to see that it has died sometime between Buck getting home and waking up this morning. He plucks it in and waits with closed eyes as it starts up again.
Immediately, a barrage of texts from the night before floods in, and before he can click through any of them, he receives one barely sent 5 minutes ago.
Tommy: Hungover? I’m bringing something greasy for breakfast.
Buck cannot think what he might have done to receive so many texts, and doesn't even begin to question how Tommy knows he was out celebrating with Ravi and Lucy. But he is so overwhelmed by all the texts and the throbbing still lodged tightly behind his eyes, that he decides to get up and find some Tylenol first. Maybe some water while he is at it. Maybe brush his teeth, if he is feeling generous.
As he rolls out of bed and stands, stretching out as much as he can without disturbing his head more, there is a dull, persistent, somewhat tingling pain coming from his lower back. He reaches his hand behind his back to scratch at the point where the pain emerges, only for his fingers to make contact with cold plastic pressed against his skin.
“What the fuck?”
Already on his way to the bathroom, Buck takes swifter steps than before, pulling off his shirt along the way and turning as soon as he is in front of his mirror. There, right above the waistband of his sweatpants, a new tattoo is still wrapped in the protective plastic covering. There is some slimy, inky black above the actual tattoo, covering it perfectly, as Buck goes to peel the film off of his skin.
When he finally succeeds, his breath lodges in his throat, heart picking up its beat.
“Holy shit -”
Memories of last night resurface. Does he have your back? and Not like Diaz? and I know, okay?
Nothing about the actual process of getting a tattoo comes back to him, but in his defense - yeah. Heard that one before.
Suddenly, there’s a knock on his door, right before it is pushed open.
“Evan?” his boyfriend - holy shit his boyfriend - calls into the loft.
Buck clears his throat, eyes still pinned to the single word gracing the space right above the swell of his ass, swallows heavily. “Y-yeah, give me a second, I’m just-,” he trails off awkwardly, and with a wild look around, snatches the shirt from his floor, pulling it over his head.
“You didn’t throw up, did you?” He hears Tommy before he actually sees the older man, as he steps out of the bathroom.
Buck lets out a chuckle that sounds forced, even to his own ears. “No, just getting some Tylenol.” He adds, holding up the little pill bottle, as if it is evidence in a court case he is fighting hard not to lose. He so is going to lose.
“Great,” Tommy smiles at him, as he slides a takeaway cup of coffee across the kitchen counter towards Buck. “I brought you some hash browns and scrambled eggs from that diner you like,” catching his gaze, he adds, “Can you stomach that already? Or do you need a minute?”
His stomach does something funny at the way Tommy looks at him. There is genuine concern in his boyfriend’s eyes, but there is something knowing in them as well. Like Tommy can see right through him. His heart, not having calmed down yet, leaps into his throat, preventing him from spilling any of his secrets.
“I’m actually so glad I know you,” Buck tries to laugh off the concern, his voice sounding strained even to his own ears. Maybe he can blame it on the hangover later. “Thank you for bringing me a hangover cure breakfast.”
He moves in to kiss Tommy. His lips moving softly against his boyfriend’s, who tastes like fresh coffee and honey lip balm and something deeper and darker underneath that is just quintessentially Tommy Kinard. (Maybe it’s just a hot pilot thing, his brain whispers at him.)
Tommy pulls back a little, knocking his forehead into Buck’s gently, always so gentle with him. “Don’t even try to distract me, Evan. Even if it is working,” he laughs softly into the small space between them. “I would feel better if you ate something first.”
Gently, Tommy pushes a small brown paper bag towards Buck, sending him a stern glance.
“Okay- wait. Did you just say it was working?” A sly smile spreads over Buck’s lips, a plan already half-formed in his mind, just in case of emergencies, of course.
His exact expression is mirrored on Tommy’s face, before his boyfriend takes a moment to push the food further towards him. “Eat first.”
And so that is what Buck does. While Tommy watches and drinks the rest of his coffee, Buck eats the biggest serving of hash browns and eggs that he can handle this morning. His stomach somersaults inside his body, as he catches Tommy’s eyes on him repeatedly. Even though his boyfriend is content in the silence between them, there is clearly something Tommy wants to say. It makes Buck’s chest feel tight, anxiety feeling like a constant roommate in his body, stuck right behind his ribs, his knee bouncing a staccato beat as he shovels eggs into his mouth.
Once he finally finishes, Tommy guides him onto the couch, arranging them so that Tommy is lying on his back, splaying his legs, with Buck lying half on Tommy and half on his side on the couch. Tommy’s arm slings over his shoulder, pulling him closer, as Buck tangles their legs together.
“So,” Tommy starts and Buck hides his face in the crook between his boyfriend’s shoulder and neck, cheeks already heating up. That teasing tone somehow does something to Buck that he is not sure he likes. “How was your night, babe?”
There is something in his voice that Buck cannot read. It sounds almost amused, if it wasn’t for the obvious strain to hide whatever emotions might cause said amusement.
Instead of answering, Buck presses a kiss to Tommy’s pulse point, letting his tongue lick over the same spot a second later. Tommy tastes slightly salty, slightly like his shower gel, but it kind of drives Buck insane. Even if he is currently trying to distract his boyfriend, he can enjoy this experience, thank you very much .
“Evan.”
Buck hums against Tommy’s skin, before biting down and sucking for a few seconds, before running another soothing lick over the sting. He works his way up Tommy’s neck until he finally reaches the hinge of his boyfriend’s jaw.
“You like to tease, huh?” pulls him out of the moment.
Tommy slowly sits up against the arm of the couch, careful of Buck, as he moves. His hands find their way to Buck’s hips, gripping him tight before bodily dragging Buck into his lap and connecting their lips in a heated kiss.
Buck is so caught off guard by that quick reaction that a moan tumbles out into the kiss.
Tommy takes that as his cue to slip his tongue into the kiss, licking into Buck’s mouth like he has done it a million times.
Already sitting in Tommy’s lap, Buck presses even closer and drops most of his weight on top of his boyfriend. His hands start wandering aimlessly, just trying to hold on and explore the warm body beneath him. One hand ends up in Tommy’s hair, the other holding onto the older man’s upper arm with a vice grip. It feels like he cannot let go, lest he might drown in all the sensations.
Buck groans into the kiss, as Tommy’s hands start sliding from his waist. One hand comes up and grabs at the back of Buck’s neck in a tight grip, the other slides below his shirt, resting right above the waistband of his pants.
For a second, everything is great, Buck is enjoying the make-out session.
The next, he tenses so rapidly, he is surprised Tommy just chuckles as he pulls out of the kiss.
“So, Evan,” his boyfriend smirks knowingly. “How was your night?”
The moment Tommy’s hand makes contact with the fresh ink on his skin, a jolt runs through Buck and blood rushes through his veins, tinting his cheeks as pink as his birthmark. For a moment, he feels like he can’t breathe, all air in the universe gone from his lungs, sucked into a vacuum as he is, but then he catches the look in his boyfriend’s eyes. He doesn’t look upset, or even particularly surprised by Buck’s reaction. There is just a smug, knowing look written all over Tommy’s face.
“I- uh…,” Buck stutters out, “how do you-”
“Have you checked your phone at all before I came over?”
“N-no, not really.”
“You’re in for a treat, definitely,” Tommy laughs. “But before we talk about it, can I see it in real life, first?”
More heat rushes to Buck’s cheeks at the implication. His boyfriend - the first man he has ever gone out with - wants to see his new tattoo. The one he isn’t even supposed to know about because Buck is barely aware of it himself. But he knows what is written on his back like a stamp, and Tommy seems to know as well.
Tommy’s thumb swipes over the tattoo teasingly. The calluses of his finger send shivers running down Buck’s spine as they glide over the slightly raised lines, catching and tugging on the sensitive skin. “Come one, Evan, you know I’m not mad. Look at me,” their eyes lock intensely. “I’m not going to laugh and I’m not going to say anything about it. But if you want, I will tell you what I think. And it will be alright, I promise.”
And that - that leaves Buck speechless. “What?”
“What ‘what’?”
“How can you be so…” disinterested? nonplussed? “...unfazed?”
“Because, Evan-,” Tommy takes a deep breath, pulling his hand from under his shirt, causing Buck to whimper at the loss of heat across his sensitive skin, “Because, I know how you are about Eddie. I’m not stupid. And I do have eyes, you know?”
“But…”
“No buts. I knew what I was getting into when I kissed you that first time.”
“But I didn’t even know!”
“Oh, baby.”
“What?”
“Of course you didn’t know. You barely let yourself acknowledge that you are interested in men,” Tommy starts gently. “I thought if you were really interested at all, then I could take a chance. But we both know that I am not it for you. I think we were doing some - and this is the worst word for it, so sorry about that, but - mentoring. You weren’t ready for him, I am not even sure you are ready for anything with him now, but I know that you love him. That he is it for you. And I don’t hold that against you. I love what we’ve been doing, but if you have had your realization by now, then there’s no reason for us to force something that has no real future. You get to learn with him, if you want. And I’m not angry at you about that.”
There are tears gathering in the corners of Buck’s eyes and he blinks hard to stop himself from crying. Sitting in the lap of the man who is so kind to him, who decided to have a good time, even if it wouldn’t be for a long time. “I just- thank you. And I’m so sorry, I wasn’t trying to hurt you or waste your time or whatever. I honestly did not know, I only realized recently and-”
“It’s really fine. I was aware of what we were getting into. But if you want, we can still be friends, Evan, I’d really like that. And I’d still really like to go to your sister’s wedding with you, even if I am not your boyfriend at that point anymore.”
“I would like that, as well.”
“Great. Now get your shirt off, I need to see that new tattoo of yours.”
--
After Tommy leaves, Buck - now single, again - finally makes his way back into the bathroom. Tommy had laughed in disbelief, said “it looks exactly like on your turnout coats!" and swiped his hands over it. And it made Buck curious.
And it’s right there. How could it not be? Tommy had seen and touched it. Buck himself has caught a glimpse of it in the mirror before. But right there, above the waistband of his pants, it sits innocently, a blob of black, so innocuous, yet it makes the usual heart on his sleeve pale in comparison.
In full capital letters, in exactly the same script as used on their turnout coats, the word DIAZ is written on his lower back. Written into his lower back? Pierced into his flesh and removable only by burning it out. The same way that his feelings for Eddie are stitched into his heart, overall, if he is honest with himself for a change, just for once.
Seeing the tattoo on his back makes him feel hot under his skin, blood rushing into his cheeks. He imagines another set of hands running over the name, imagines said hands mapping his body, following the lines in his skin, connecting the moles scattered on his body like stars. Imagines a hot mouth pressed to the lines of ink, slipping lower and lower, teasingly licking over it.
It makes him blush harder, as he pulls the shirt over his head again, the tattoo hidden for now.
While those thoughts still run marathons through his mind, he remembers the frankly scary amount of texts he has been ignoring since before Tommy came over.
Opening his phone is scary in the same way his first day at LAFD station 118 was - he has no idea what is about to happen, but he is excited in a weirdly comforting way nonetheless. Buck unlocks the phone and, ignoring the missed calls from Hen and Maddie and Chimney, he swipes directly into his messages.
Ravi: Did you leave?
Ravi: It’s been 20 minutes? Are you on your way home?
Ravi: Did you get home safe?
Ravi: HOLY FUCK
Ravi: THAT IS WHERE YOU WENT?!
Even though it is their private chat, Ravi’s reaction implies something that Buck does not want to think about too hard. He does however answer, just in case the younger man is worrying.
Buck: Sorry for worrying you! I didn’t mean to just leave, but I barely remember how I got home, tbh. But I did get home safe. Thanks for last night, again!
Then, Buck swipes to the next texts.
Lucy: now he really has your back lmao
Lucy: i really hope you get your man :)
Buck decides not to answer that one, but he does feel his lips pull into a soft smile.
There are several new messages in the 118 group chat, though, which, according to the time stamps at least, is where Buck shared his original message, which inevitably has been shared with everyone important in his life. Fuck. He scrolls up, to find a somewhat blurry picture of his grinning face, his hand held up in a thumbs-up right beside his birthmark.
Buck: guess where i am
For a second he is unsure how he was texting that coherently. Then he spots the second picture and all coherent thoughts escape from him. It is still him, in the same location judging by the background, but this time, he finds a full-body shot, the logo of a nearby tattoo shop barely visible behind him, his shirt thrown haphazardly onto a chair just next to him. He stands angled so his lower back is visible in a mirror held at just the right angle to capture his new tattoo. And there it is, freshly inked into his skin which has turned an angry red in irritation. Right there it is: DIAZ, right above his waistband, and clearly legible.
“Oh God, oh fuck,” Buck mumbles to himself as he starts scrolling through the messages. “Oh no.”
Hen: WHAT
Chimney: THE FUCK
Hen: BUCK IM CALLING YOU RIGHT NOW
Chimney: IS THAT FOR REAL
Chimney: BUCK SAY SIKE RIGHT NOW
Chimney: (Maddie asks if you need a ride home)
Buck: yes, please :(
Chimney: DONT MOVE WERE COMING TO GET YOU
And several hours later, there is another response.
Bobby: do i need to prepare some hr forms for you?
Bobby: athena says hi, but she is laughing at you and your hangover
Bobby: may is also laughing, just so you know
Bobby: i didn’t mean to show her, but i checked my phone at breakfast and they both saw, sorry buck
While none of the messages are actively a negative reaction, it stands out that there is one person who has not reacted to the picture in any way yet. Somebody is distinctly absent from the barrage of texts and calls on his phone. In a way, Buck is relieved, because that means they can discuss this later. Yet, at the same time, his chest feels tight, anxiety stealing his breath again, his heart traitorously hammering away in his chest.
Still deep in thought, Buck startles as his phone starts vibrating in his hand. It takes him way too long to actually swipe his finger across as Hen’s name flashes on his screen, his fingers too shaky to fully comply with what he needs them to do.
“Hen?”
“Oh thank God,” is how she greets him, just breathing into the speaker for a second. “We couldn’t get a hold of you and we were worried sick.”
He lets out a breathless chuckle at hearing her voice. “Yeah, no, sorry, I slept in and my phone died because I didn’t plug it in and when I was finally ready to check my phone, Tommy came over and-”
“Buck, not to worry you,” Hen interrupts, her voice rushed and breathless, like she sprinted into another room to call him, “but Eddie just left here. He was freaking out and decided to call Karen and me. He came over, we talked for a while, but he is on his way. You have 30 minutes to get your pretty boy routine on before he’s at your door.”
“Wait, Hen, what?” His chest feels even tighter, his heart going faster than he ever remembers it beating. “Was he angry? Do I need to prepare to be decked?”
“He was - something for sure. Not angry, exactly, and I don’t think he’ll punch you, but if he does, we’ll be there for you.”
She’s joking. Buck knows she is joking, but still something uncracks inside him. “Fuck, Hen, what do I do?”
“You let him into your home, and depending on how you are holding up with your hangover, you let him push you into a mattress and then you let him do whatever the fuck he wants to do to you. You know that boy has a possessive streak a mile wide. He’s not going to be upset and he’s not going to punch you. Just enjoy him coming over”
“Yeah…” he swallows hard, trying not to imagine Eddie’s hands running all over his body. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Did you shower yet?”
“Umm… no?”
“Go take a shower, lover boy. Text me if you need anything else.” Hen sounds like she is about to hang up.
Hen, thank you. Thank you for calling and making sure I’m fine. And thank you for talking to Eddie first, before he comes over.”
“No problem, Buckaroo. Be safe.”
“Yeah, will do.”
--
It takes approximately 4 minutes of packing his new tattoo as watertight as it can possibly get and approximately another 12 minutes for him to actually take a shower. It feels nice, the warm water washing the grim and dust off, washing away the memory of cheap beer and warm, sweaty bodies.
Hen had said it would take Eddie 30 minutes to come over. Either his best friend had insane luck getting through LA traffic, or he broke every road safety rule there is, because the moment Buck steps out of his shower, there is a knock on his front door.
Curious, Buck dries off, removes the temporary clingfilm from his tattoo, steps into his sweatpants and manages to walk out of his bathroom at the exact moment Eddie rushes through his front door, keys still clutched in his hand. For a second, their eyes lock and it feels like time stands still.
Between one breath and the other, Buck takes in Eddie standing in front of him. He looks harried, his hair unkempt, his Henley creased as if picked up from the floor in a hurry and just thrown onto his body. His eyes shine, huge and so warm and dark, locked onto Buck’s gaze.
In the same instance, Buck realizes what a picture he must make. Wet curls dripping onto his bare chest because he couldn’t be bothered to pull on a shirt when he heard the knock. His feet bare on the wooden floor, ratty sweatpants slung low on his hips. Heat rushes through him, sending a blush to his cheeks and Buck hopes against all hope that he isn’t turning as pink as he thinks he is. His hand clenches with the urge to reach out and pull Eddie to him, to hide his face by pressing it into his best friend’s chest, maybe get a couple breaths in before he has to explain himself to Eddie.
Earth starts turning again when Buck finally blinks. Eddie’s eyes start wandering over his shoulders, down his chest and finally catch on the waistband of his sweatpants. The intensity of his gaze has Buck’s heart racing, pounding in his chest and ears and drowning out any sounds of early morning LA coming in through his windows. Buck can clearly see Eddie swallow hard, as he opens and closes his mouth a few times.
Finally Eddie’s eyes track back up over Buck’s body, establishing eye contact once again. His shoulders tense a fraction, before he finally stutters out: “The picture.”
Buck swallows, his mouth suddenly drier than the Sahara desert, the way Eddie scrutinizes him sending thrills through him. There is a shudder wandering through him, and Buck forces himself to stand as still as he possibly can. “Yeah? The picture?”
“Fuck. Evan.” Eddie’s voice drops a full octave into a register Buck has never heard before. “Let me see,” he almost pleads finally.
Buck keeps standing, as Eddie starts stalking toward him. Eddie’s hand finds its way onto his shoulder. Naked skin touching naked skin sends a shiver down Buck’s spine, when Eddie turns him around. There is a heat thrumming through him, the blush from his face spreading down his neck and chest. Eddie has an aura around him, making Buck feel like prey to a way more dangerous predator, like being toyed with before he will be devoured.
Standing this way he cannot see Eddie’s face, but he imagines it must be doing something incredibly complicated, as his eyes finally find the tattoo on Buck’s lower back.
A choked out groan rips from Eddie’s throat, as his hands find their way to Buck’s tattoo, gliding over his skin and leaving burning marks. There is the distinct feeling of deja vu settling somewhere at the back of Buck’s mind as Eddie’s callused fingers trace the dark lines of ink. He can’t stop himself from releasing a soft moan when his best friend presses down on his tattoo, a short spike of pleasurable pain shooting through his body. It feels like every single one of Buck’s synapses burns out at the exact same time, and he does not want them to start up ever again, happy to let Eddie take over forever and evermore.
“Dios, Buck, what the fuck.” Eddie sounds entirely breathless, every word seemingly punched out from his throat. “You don’t even know how hot this is. Fuck. I want to absolutely ruin you.”
A shiver works its way down Buck’s spin, and his dick hardens instantly in his sweatpants. Another moan punches out of him without his consent, constricting around his partner’s name. “Eddie.”
Eddie’s hand flexes experimentally on his shoulder, then Buck is spun around again, facing Eddie, just standing in the middle of his living space. Eddie’s gaze is intense, darker than Buck has ever seen it, his pupils having almost completely swallowed the golden brown of his eyes. It sends heaps of molten lava to his core, every single touch branding him, as Eddie’s gaze marks him as his.
The atmosphere in the room is electric, every single point of contact between them lighting Buck up from inside and out and, somehow, he never wants this moment to end, never wants to have to know what even a split second without Eddie’s touch on him feels like ever again.
“Eddie,” Buck whines, he is not too proud to admit to that, “please.”
Buck watches as Eddie takes in his expression, once again moving his eyes over his exposed chest and his low-slung pants, tracking the progress of his blush as it now fully evolves over his chest. For a moment, Buck thinks Eddie’s searching glance gets caught on his nipples, his abs, his belly button, before it settles on the trail of hair leading to the waistband of his sweats.
Then, in a split-second decision, Eddie crashes into him, one hand burying in Buck’s hair, the other possessively wrapped over Eddie’s own name stabbed into Buck’s skin. Their lips meet in a heated kiss, their teeth clacking together until Buck instinctively moves his head slightly, betters the angle and gives Eddie complete control.
Eddie’s tongue swipes over Buck’s bottom lip before biting down lightly and dragging his lower lip out slightly. The pain does not even face Buck, it just sends sparks singing in his bloodstream. Immediately, Buck lets out a desperately wounded noise, feeling punched out with pleasure.
Something about Eddie kissing him like it is a need, like he will suffocate without stealing the breath from Buck’s own lungs, breaks something inside Buck and he lets out a strangled moan into the kiss. He never wants to be kissed any other way.
When finally - too soon, he thinks helplessly - Eddie pulls back slightly, eye glued to the younger man’s bitten, swollen and abused lips, Buck takes the chance to dive right back in. His tongue quickly licking into Eddie’s mouth, he finds that Eddie tastes slightly like mint like his toothpaste and Buck tastes sugary cereal on his lips. And what actually makes his brain stop - Eddie tastes like the coffee he had for breakfast.
Like Tommy, his brain comments unhelpfully, causing guilt to swirl in his gut, ruining the sweet high of pleasure.
Like a shock is rolling over his system, shutting down any higher brain power, Buck pulls back.
Eddie doesn’t seem to get the memo, as his hand on Buck’s lower back presses them tighter together, their still clothed cocks pressing against each other - and isn’t that a surprise to Buck, who until then was completely overwhelmed just from the kiss. He wasn’t even aware that he’d gotten this hard until this point. Until Eddie’s lips wander from his own, down to the point just below his jaw, where Eddie places a soft kiss before biting down, hard.
Biting back another groan, Buck whispers, “Eddie, wait. Just one second.”
It comes out pleading and breathy, his voice barely making a sound into the intimate silence between them.
There is a questioning hum coming from Eddie where he is currently pressing kisses and little nips down the column of Buck’s neck, sinking his canine teeth into soft skin and leaving marks. It shouldn’t turn Buck on as much as it does, but then again, Buck is only a man, and Eddie is sex personified, if anyone cares to hear Buck’s opinion on that one.
“Fuck, Eddie -”
“Yeah, I’m trying really hard to get there,” Eddie replies and for a second that wipes out Buck’s entire brain capacity. The only thing he can focus on is Eddie’s lips still pressed to his body, white noise blocking out his hearing, nothing processing but the sting of teeth and warmth of breath pressed into his skin.
“Wait-,” Buck whines, already regretting what he is about to say. “Aren’t you in a relationship?”
“Broke up with her. Like, weeks ago, at this point.”
“Wait, what?”
Apparently that is enough to make Eddie give up on his grand plan of seducing Buck. Slowly, Eddie disentangles himself from Buck, his fingers gliding over the ridges of the new tattoo one last time before he takes a single step back. Immediately, cold rushes in, as air presses into Buck where Eddie’s body had just been pressed into him. A shiver runs through him and a whine emerges from his throat, hands already reaching to pull Eddie back into himself.
And Eddie- he looks debauched. His lips kiss-swollen, cheeks flushed in the prettiest pink color, and dark hair mussed where Buck wasn’t even aware his hands had been pushing and pulling. Debauched, but the best kind of beautiful. His eyes are slightly glossed over, hazy with lust, when they finally focus on Buck.
Involuntary, another whine rises in Buck’s throat and spills into the space between them. His hand finally catches Eddie’s arm before he can move too far away from his own body heat, pulling uselessly as Eddie just leans further back.
At that, Eddie chuckles lightly. “Oh, baby, don’t worry. I’m right here.”
Buck can't even make his brain function enough to think of an answer to that. Instead, he sways closer to his best friend, who immediately answers when their lips press together once more. Gently, Eddie lets Buck kiss him for a few seconds. Then, a hand lands softly on his chest, pushing him away even more gently if at all possible.
Eddie’s bright, beautiful, kind eyes catch his gaze, locking him down. “Buck, remember the night you came out to me? Told me you were dating Tommy?” Something flashes over Eddie’s face at that, his smile dimming, eyes clouding over, and he takes another step away, Buck’s hand falling from his arm. “Actually, we maybe shouldn’t-”
“No!,” Buck interrupts. “Tommy was here. We talked, he-,” searching for the right words, he looks around, avoiding Eddie’s gaze as much as he can. Something inside him coils up, expecting the worst, when he finally finds the right words to explain what happened before Eddie got to his apartment. “He said that he knew - knew before I did that we wouldn’t last, that I was- that you were-”
“Take a breath, Buck,” Eddie is smiling at him softly, even if it is smaller than the other one from before, from before Tommy was mentioned. One of his hands reaches up in a half-aborted motion to hold onto whatever he can grab of Buck, but then pulls back when it only closes around empty air, their bodies too far apart. “What did Tommy say?”
“That he knew. That you are it for me. That he was - and I hate to say this - but that he was here for a good time, not a long time, more like a guide than the real thing. That sounds so stupid, but I guess- Eddie , I love you. I have been in love with you for a long time. And last night I didn’t even think about anything other than you and how much I want you to kiss me and wake me up in the morning, and keep me up late at night. How I want to make you breakfast and dinner and how I want to be there when Chris inevitably has his first teenage meltdown. And how I want to be yours. Only yours.”
He tries to catch his breath, his heart having leapt into his throat, choking him with emotions he barely ever lets himself think about. He hopes that this is love, like he thought yesterday when he saw Eddie’s open and honest expression.
Glancing up at Eddie, he finds his best friend frozen, mouth slightly agape, eyes moving over every single inch of Buck’s face.
Taking another deep breath to calm himself and the anxiety beating along with his heart, he continues, because he knows that if he stops now, he’ll never let himself say it: “And you know what’s the worst thing about all of this? Tommy knew and he took it in stride and he brought me breakfast and let me make a fool of myself. And he laughed when he took one look at that tattoo. One look! At a tattoo that I got last night, that screams Property of Eddie Diaz, Do Not Touch. He wished me good luck with you. Eddie, I-”
But he does not know how to finish that sentence, only knows that now there’s heat in Eddie’s gaze that is still pinning him to the point where he is standing. No escape, even if he wanted one. Buck feels himself lean forward almost imperceptibly, forces pulling him into Eddie like he is the sun and Buck is just one of the planets revolving around him.
Immediately sensing the change in Buck, Eddie surges forward, crashing their lips together once more. It takes his breath away, how hungry Eddie seems to be for him. And something clicks, there is a metaphorical bell dinging over his head right that second.
“Oh my god,” he breaths, as he pulls away from Eddie’s lips, laughing slightly as Eddie tries to chase after him. Heat settles deep in his abdomen, a sphere of burning pressure that only burns hotter the closer he moves into Eddie. “You actually enjoy this? You possessive bastard.”
“Shut up. It’s really hot,” Eddie mumbles against his lips. “You literally chose to proclaim to the entire world that you are mine. Forever.”
Another quick, dirty kiss is pressed to his lips before Eddie pulls away once more.
“Fuck, okay,” Eddie takes a deep breath. “Now that we’ve established you’ve been single for like 30 minutes - let’s take a moment to mourn that you’ll never be single again.”
They both break out in laughter.
Before Buck can even think of an answer to that one , Eddie continues without hesitancy, no doubt about his feelings present anywhere in his speech. “No, actually, let me finish my thought. That evening, your coming out, telling me about Tommy. That night, when I finally went home and kicked Marisol out? I broke up with her. Because when you told me that you were dating Tommy - something inside me shifted, it’s the only way I can explain it. I- I did not realize that I am gay immediately, that happened with Frank later, but I did realize that it’s you. You’re the one that I want. You are the one that I love. And then you go and you get my name tattooed on your body? Buck, I don’t even know what to say, except I love you.”
Somehow the world must have shifted and Buck didn’t notice all this time. Somehow, somewhere in another universe or another previous life, Buck must have done something right for Eddie to spill his feelings into the silence between them. There are tears in Buck’s eyes, threatening to spill over his cheeks. He feels like he went through more emotions in the past two hours than he has ever before in his life. “Eddie, I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Buck, so much.”
It’s Buck this time who leans forward, connecting their lips in a gentle kiss. His hand finds its way to the back of Eddie’s neck as he pulls the love of his life against his chest. Almost immediately, Eddie’s fingers brush over the tattoo once more, leaving hot tracks behind and eliciting a gasp from Buck. Right away, with Buck’s lips dropping open, Eddie deepens the kiss, hungrily licking into Buck’s mouth.
It feels like the world drops out from beneath Buck’s feet, he feels like floating in space, never wants to leave the cloud he finds himself on with Eddie. If every choice in his life led him to this one moment, this being the only possible outcome, he would go through it all over again - the exploding, crushing fire engine, the earthquake, the tsunami, the well and the shooting, being kidnapped, trapped under a collapsing bridge - all of it would be worth it for him to end up being kissed by Eddie like this. For him to create a love like this.
When they finally pull apart, both of them are panting, a line of spit connecting their lips. Buck’s knees buckle beneath him, but Eddie is right there for him. His best friend just pulls him closer, which pushes Buck’s hard cock right against Eddie’s thigh.
“ Shit- ,” he moans, loudly.
“Fuck, baby, so hot,” Eddie whispers, pressing sloppy kisses below Buck’s ear, right down the line of his jaw, before suckling his way down his throat, no doubt adding more marks to the plethora he has already left along Buck’s throat before. When Eddie bites down right over his pulse point, Buck can feel himself clench down around nothing, his hips twitching of their own accord, rubbing right up against Eddie’s thigh and sending sparks down his spine.
“Eddie, please-”
“Ven aquí, cariño,” Eddie whispers, “come here.”
Buck does not even recognize that Eddie pulls him closer, essentially positioning him right on top of Eddie’s strong thigh flexing below his hips. The way Eddie’s jeans hug that thigh makes drool gather in Buck’s mouth, his brain descending into a repeating chant of Eddie’s name. Somehow this leads them into desperate twitching and rutting against each other, kisses turning hungry and sloppy, still just standing in the middle of Buck’s loft.
In the end, it is Eddie who moves them forward. Breaking the kiss for a moment, Eddie pulls back and tugs his shirt over his head, unceremoniously dropping it on the ground, before he resumes his attack on Buck’s neck. He presses small, open-mouthed kisses into his skin, leaving hot, wet marks in his wake.
Buck whimpers breathlessly. “Eddie. Please. Make me feel good. No one else can do it like you.”
Trailing kisses along Buck’s jawline, pressing against Buck’s lower back to encourage him to keep moving against his thigh, Eddie’s voice reaches him as if muffled through noise-canceling headphones. What he says comes out teasing, but sends a shiver down Buck’s spine, sparks rushing through his veins. “What? We’re gonna fuck right here? Where everyone can see us? Want me to push you to the floor and just take what I want?”
“Shit. Fuck, God. No- I mean, yes, but- take me to bed.”
“I’m gonna fucking ruin you.”
A shiver works its way around Buck’s body, as a gasp escapes him. Eddie’s eyes are trained on him intensely, a sly grin pulling around his lips. Buck does not know what happens between one blink and another, but suddenly one of Eddie’s hands is cupping his cheek - thumb brushing tenderly over his lower lip, and pulling it down slightly.
“Such pretty lips,” he whispers, watching his thumb sliding back and forth. Experimentally, Buck pokes his tongue out, catching the tip of Eddie’s thumb and giving a little lick over the pad of his finger. “Shit. I really want to see how pretty you look with your lips wrapped around my dick, querido.”
For a second, Buck is glad he is essentially being held up by Eddie at this point, with his knees fully giving out below him, letting his body weight crash against the older man’s thigh. “Shit, you can’t say stuff like that.”
“Why not?” Eddie smirks, finally slipping his thumb between Buck’s lips, pressing into his mouth. “Don’t you want to hear how pretty you are? How good you are for me? What I want to do to you?”
Instantly, Buck hollows his cheeks, sucking around the digit. His tongue pressing little kitten licks against the pad of Eddie’s thumb repeatedly, watching as Eddie’s eyes grow darker, his pupils dilating and swallowing the brown around them. He can hear his best friend - boyfriend? love of his life? - curse quietly under his breath as his own hand grips Eddie’s wrist, holding on for dear life.
Ignoring his aching cock, Buck let the voices in his brain win, dropping to his knees. With big, round eyes, he looks up at Eddie, waiting for instructions. This is far from the first blowjob Buck has given or received, but in the grand scheme of things - this feels like it is important. This is one of the last first times for the rest of his life. And something inside him clenches at that thought, because all he wants is to be good for Eddie.
“So pretty, baby,” Eddie whispers, his hand still cradling Buck’s face, fingers swiping over his cheekbones, below his eyes, over the hinge of his jaw, everywhere they can possibly reach. “Such a good boy.”
Oh.
That makes Buck’s brain crash and short-circuit, white noise rushing in and drowning out his own high-pitched whine. Involuntarily, he sways forward into Eddie’s heat, pressing small kisses to his abdomen. Buck has to force himself to focus on actively bringing his hands up, popping the button and pulling the zipper of Eddie’s jeans and finally - finally - dragging them down.
Eddie’s cock springs free, standing proudly against his abs, and Buck feels like he is about to drool. He actually wants to have that in his mouth - like 5 minutes ago. As if pulled in by gravity, Buck leans into it. He knows what he likes and he knows what it is like to receive a blowjob, so he does just that - he starts by slowly licking from the root of Eddie’s cock to the tip, swirling his tongue around the head.
Above him, Eddie groans brokenly, his hand slipping into Buck’s hair, gripping tight.
Encouraged by that reaction, Buck presses a kiss to the head, a bead of pre-cum already meeting his lips. Swirling a teasing lick over his slit, Buck gathers the drop on his tongue, relishing in the bitter taste. Teasingly, he grins up at Eddie and finds his lover’s gaze already on him. His mouth has dropped open, harsh panting breaths forced from his lungs and into the tiny space between them.
Slowly, taking his time, and watching for every single one of Eddie’s reactions, Buck takes the head of his cock into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks like he did with Eddie’s thumb just a minute before. Hesitantly, he bobs his head, sliding deeper on Eddie’s cock with each swipe. The fingers in his hair tighten almost imperceptibly, clenching and unclenching with the movements of his head.
“Such a good boy, you’re doing so well,” Eddie murmurs. “Sucking my cock so well.”
The praise goes right to his head, punching a whine out of him that is muffled by the dick in his mouth. In his brain, he knows that his reaction probably sends vibrations through Eddie, but it still is a shock when the older man sucks in a sharp breath, hips hitching forward, pressing his cock further into Buck’s mouth, a punched out sound escaping.
“Shit, Buck -”
As the hand in his hair tightens and Eddie’s hips twitch again, his dick hits the back of Buck’s throat, making him choke slightly. Tears spring to his eyes, his body instinctively wanting to escape from the sensation. Sputtering, Buck pulls back, letting Eddie slip from his lips.
“Sorry, querido, I’m so sorry- are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he answers, but his voice breaks on that single syllable. He sounds fucked out, voice raspy and throat raw. A new ball of pleasure and heat forms somewhere in his abdomen, pushing him further into Eddie. “Please, Eddie.”
He moves back in, mouthing around the shaft, licking pre-cum from the head before he gathers more courage and sinks right back down. The head of Eddie’s dick hits the back of his throat again, but this time Buck is prepared, relaxing his jaw and breathing harshly through his nose. Just a little more and there - Buck’s nose hits the hair of Eddie’s happy trail. A self-satisfied moan rumbles through him at the feeling of Eddie so close to him.
With one hand, he grips Eddie’s hip, holding on as he starts bobbing his head again, a soothing, repeating motion that makes him feel fuzzy and blissed-out. His other hand holds onto Eddie’s wrist - the one that has his fingers currently buried in his hair. Even though Buck himself does not know what he is trying to achieve, Eddie seems to know, their connection as partners showing itself. It makes pleasure shoot down his spine and Buck’s dick twitches in his pants.
“You sure, baby?” Eddie asks as he pulls out halfway, eyes intensely locked onto Buck as he tries to nod as much as he can without letting go of Eddie or stopping any of what he is doing. He presses his tongue right below the head of Eddie’s cock to encourage him, instead. “Fuck, okay.”
Slowly, Eddie pushes his cock back in, holding onto Buck’s hair and thereby holding him in place. “You’re doing so well for me, such a good boy,” he mumbles, only semi-consciously.
Another whine works its way through Buck at Eddie’s words, no thoughts present in his mind at all, only sensations and the need to please Eddie. He relaxes as Eddie starts fucking his mouth in earnest with sloppy, but careful thrusts, hitting the back of Buck’s throat and pushing further still. Various sounds spill out from between Eddie’s lips, intermingled with Buck’s own name, as the hand in his hair clenches so hard that it almost hurts.
Buck’s own dick is extremely hard in his pants, still trapped in the loose material. He can feel pre-cum leaking into the cloth around him, leaving a large, wet patch. Desperately, he tries to hump against Eddie’s legs but he cannot find the right angle, groaning in frustration.
Eddie chances a glance at him, already pulling Buck off his dick, using the hand in his hair to maneuver him however he wants. “You okay?”
“Please,” Buck breathes, voice unsteady, rough, breaking even just on that one single syllable. “I need you so bad, please, daddy.”
The word leaves him without consent, his brain fully non-functioning, as Eddie freezes above him. For a second, he thinks he has fucked up, but then he takes in the high flush forming over the older man’s cheeks, the way his mouth has fallen slack. Right against his lips, Eddie’s dick twitches, a pearl of pre-cum landing right on his bottom lip as Eddie shudders. His tongue pokes out of its own accord, slowly licking across his lower lip, chasing the taste of Eddie that still lingers in his mouth.
“Shit, cariño, anything for you, yes.” The hand in his hair loosens, Eddie’s other hand grabbing onto his shoulder, pulling him up, straight into another kiss. Their lips crash into each other, and Buck’s heart skips a whole beat at the smile Eddie shoots him when they break apart. “I love you so much. You’re doing so well for me, querido.”
A whine that sounds suspiciously like another “please” leaves his lips.
“Just need to get up to the bed. You think you can do that for me, baby?” Eddie’s hands are soft where they cradle Buck’s face, fingers swiping over his cheekbones, toying with the short hairs curling around his ears.
Not trusting his voice at all, Buck just nods, leaning into the heat radiating off Eddie. Their lips meet in a short kiss, a hint of teeth scraping over his lower lip, leaving Buck gasping for more. It blows his mind, how blissfully out of it he is. He still feels like he is floating, no thought holding any real meaning, the world hazy around the edges as his gaze is drawn to Eddie and Eddie alone. He doesn’t even notice Eddie’s hand traveling down his shoulder, across his arm and groping around his lower back, fingers dipping below the waistband of his sweatpants, until nails dig into the soft flesh of his ass, right below where the tattoo sits.
“You’re mine, and I’ll take such good care of you,” Eddie growls, his fingers kneading Buck’s ass, “take those pants off, get on your bed. Be a good boy and wait there for me.”
Slowly, Eddie’s hands withdraw from his body, leaving behind the impression of warmth, the cold air streaming in now a torture on Buck’s skin. Involuntary, he shivers, as Eddie takes an entire step back. Not moving a muscle, mind fuzzy and completely blank, Buck just stares at Eddie, the perfect abs on display, his dick hard, standing proudly, and wet, covered in Buck’s own saliva. There is no way his knees will carry him up the stairs to his bedroom.
But then Eddie smiles so gently, slapping his ass lightly. “Go on, querido, gotta get into bed for me to fuck you.”
In the end, Buck has no idea how he makes it upstairs, whether he stumbles up the stairs, or grips the railing tightly, or whether the mumbled “fuck” he hears was actually Eddie, or if he hallucinates that one entirely. He doesn’t know where he loses his pants in the entire affair, he just knows that he drops into his still unmade sheets, shivering against the cold of the air and the sheets and missing Eddie’s touch on him so much.
At some point, staring up at the ceiling and praying that he lasts longer than five minutes, his mind clearing a little, he recognizes Eddie’s footsteps coming up the stairs. Immediately, he feels the blood rush through his veins, his dick achingly hard where it stands against his abdomen, his heart beating so hard he thinks it must show on his chest.
Even with hearing Eddie come up, he is surprised when the older man’s voice rings through the empty space. “You look fucking gorgeous like that, all spread out like a good boy for me.”
Buck raises his head slightly, searching for eye contact, as Eddie comes closer, placing a glass of water on the nightstand. At Buck’s questioning hum, Eddie just chuckles. “I have a feeling you’ll be needing that after.”
And that - that cracks something open in his chest. Eddie being thoughtful and caring and just in general taking care of him, Buck, like he deserves it, like he is worth all the effort. It breaks the seal around his heart, splits him open like he is lying on an operating table, and his feelings flow like blood from his veins. All the love he carries in his heart pours out, finding a new home in the space between him and Eddie and he can feel tears springing into his eyes. “ Eddie -”
“Ssshhh, it’s fine, baby, I’m taking care of you. I promised, didn’t I?” Eddie sends him another smile that is so soft Buck reevaluates a bunch of his life choices real quick, before Eddie opens the first drawer of his nightstand, no hesitancy and no questions asked about it as he pulls the small tube of lube out of it. His heart beats faster just thinking about how intimately familiar Eddie must be with him for that special kind of trust and knowledge to exist. As time ceases to exist for Buck, he does not know how to do anything but watch, as Eddie gets ready to fuck him, hopefully into oblivion. However, a crinkle appears between Eddie’s eyebrows as he surveys the contents of the drawer again. “Don’t you have any condoms?”
“Didn’t need them. I got tested when I started dating Tommy and we never- we weren’t -”
Eddie’s gaze is locked onto him again, intense dark eyes taking in his expression, shortly passing down his body and catching on his leaking dick, before their eyes connect again. The same, by now almost familiar, heat settles in the pit of his stomach again, his mind already going fuzzy around the edges again, as Eddie drops the lube onto the bed right next to Buck’s hip.
“I got tested right after I figured it out, that I love you, that I’m gay. I didn’t want anyone but you, but I thought I’d rather be safe than- well, you know.” Eddie smiles again and somewhere in the back of his mind, Buck deliriously thinks he wants to frame that expression on his best friend’s face, maybe take a million pictures of it, so that he never again has to miss that. “So, if you’re okay with it, we don’t need any condoms.”
Buck is sure he has never nodded faster in his life. “Please, you can do whatever you want with me. I trust you. Just please touch me already.”
It barely takes a moment for Eddie to crawl onto the bed, splaying Buck’s legs open and making himself comfortable between them, blanketing Buck with his own body as he leans down to press a soft kiss to his lips. “You’re so good for me, hermoso. Let me make you feel good.”
Another kiss is placed to his cheek, to the corner of his mouth, right below his jaw, to his adam’s apple. It almost drives Buck insane how good Eddie’s lips feel on him. The heat of his lover’s breath hitting his skin just right to have goosebumps raising in its wake. Eddie continues lower, mouthing at Buck’s collarbone, placing a teasing lick right over where the skin is thinnest.
Teasingly, Eddie’s hand traces over Buck’s abdomen, grazing up and over his nipple. Buck never thought he was particularly sensitive there, but the light touch sends heat straight through his body to his cock, eliciting a small twitch and pre-cum pooling onto his stomach. “Eddie, please. Stop teasing me.”
“Mhhhh, I’m sorry, what was that?”
Buck can feel Eddie’s lips pull into a wide grin, as the older man presses another kiss to his pec before his teeth sink into the skin. The pain rushes through him like lightning, his back arching off the bed, chasing the pleasure of Eddie’s mouth on him. As Eddie pulls on the skin with his teeth and sucks on it teasingly, sure to leave a mark, Buck can’t keep still any longer. His hips twitch up of their own accord, his dick leaking uncontrollably, trying to find any point of friction he can possibly rub against.
“Come on, baby, what did you just say?”
“Please,” Buck sobs desperately, his voice breaking, “Please, daddy, I’ve been so good for you. Please, please, please.”
“That’s it, corazón, you’re so good for daddy. You’re so hot when you beg,” Eddie breathes, “Begging is such a good look for you. Spread those thighs for me, baby.”
Another sob tears from his throat, his eyes clenching shut. All the praise wraps Buck in warmth, soothing the rushing of his blood, but making his heart jack-hammer in his chest all the same. It drives him insane, the urge to please and be good taking over his entire brain, as he writhes in the sheets. “Daddy-”
He hears the cap of the lube snap more than anything, before a strong hand grips his thigh. For a second, he is confused what’s going to happen, but then his thigh is lifted and wrapped around Eddie’s hips, making space and spreading him open for Eddie to see.
Another second later, a cold sensation registers in his brain, as a slippery finger circles his hole.
“Hey, look at me,” Eddie commands.
Buck struggles to open his eyes, not quite sure when he closed them in the first place. Their eyes lock, dark brown on ocean blue. Eddie stares at him intensely, searching his face for something. He seems to find it, as his finger slowly pushes in, almost immediately pulled in by the tight heat of Buck’s ass.
It feels strange and foreign at first, especially when Eddie gives him a moment to adjust, not moving a muscle. Buck catches his gaze again, giving a single nod, to let Eddie know he is fine. That is all the signal Eddie needs, as he sets to work, pulling his finger out and pushing it back in, crooking it in just the right way to stretch his hole slowly. It almost feels good, but there is just too little happening for Buck to truly enjoy it.
“More,” he pants, barely aware whether he can actually be heard over the slick sound of Eddie’s finger working in him.
Eddie looks up at him, pulling his gaze from where his finger disappears into Buck’s body. “You sure?”
“Yes, please. I can handle it, please.”
It doesn’t take anything more for Eddie to add a second finger. The stretch feels good, not painful at all, and it feels more satisfying than before. With two fingers scissoring inside of him, it doesn’t take long until Eddie crooks his fingers just right, pressing his fingertips right into Buck’s prostate, ripping a moan from the younger man, struggling to keep his hips flat on the mattress.
After a few minutes, Eddie finally pushes a third finger in and Buck feels like he is personally visiting heaven. There is no more pain, only hazy pleasure clouding his mind. The blood rushing through his veins prevents him from knowing how loud he is or what he is saying at all. He is vaguely aware of Eddie murmuring praises into his ear at every couple thrusts, but he cannot make out any of the words, just the soothing cadence of the older man’s voice. At this point, Eddie is hitting his prostate on almost every thrust of his fingers, even when spreading them out to properly stretch Buck’s hole.
“Eddie-,” Buck starts, only to be interrupted by his own wanton moan. “please, I’m ready. Please, I need you to fuck me so bad.”
“Fuck, baby, yeah.” Eddie pulls his fingers from his hole and Buck can feel the emptiness wash over him like a cold shower, his stretched hole clenching down around nothing. His thigh slips from around Eddie’s hips when the older man moves over to grab the discarded lube. Buck is sure he lets out a whimper, but he cannot hear it over the sound of the tube being opened again. He watches entranced as Eddie gives his own cock a few good strokes, the head an almost angry red punching through his closed fist, pre-cum smeared all over the head. “Querido, turn around. I need to see-”
The tattoo comes back to his mind, DIAZ spelled out right above his ass, a sign that he is Eddie’s. Nobody else’s. Without question, he flips over onto his belly, sighing as his cock is nestled into the sheets below him, finally getting some friction. This way he cannot see what Eddie is doing, but he trusts the love of his life to take care of him.
A soft kiss is pressed to the lines of his tattoo, and Buck shivers at the feeling of lips ghosting over his healing skin. A second later, another kiss is pressed to the blade of his shoulder. Another kiss, pressed against the knob at the back of his neck. Another, right below where his ear meets his jaw.
“Such a good boy,” Eddie mumbles, as the head of his cock presses against Buck’s rim, pressure building, until all at once, it gives, his cock slipping inside without too much resistance. Both of them let out loud moans at the feeling of Eddie finally bottoming out. “Shit, cariño, you feel so good around me. So hot and tight. Fuck. I never want to be anywhere else. Only inside of you, until the end of my life.”
Buck can only hum, his hips twitching slightly at the filthy words Eddie whispers into his ear. His brain is fully blank, there is only the sensation of Eddie, around him, inside him, all over him. There is no way he can figure out how to speak at this point.
It barely takes a moment until Eddie takes the hint and starts to pull out, until only the head of his cock remains inside. Then he pushes back in, starting with gentle, deep thrusts. It pushes Buck forward, closer to his headboard, and he braces himself for the next thrust, barely holding on as is.
The feeling of Eddie inside him is overwhelming. He has never been this full before, never thought about wanting to be filled like this, but now that he is here he wants to agree with Eddie. He never wants to be anywhere but here, under Eddie, being taken apart in the most intimate way there is. There is pressure building in his abdomen, heat spreading through him as Eddie pushes in, hitting his prostate spot on. He think he might be screaming, yelling Eddie’s name, thinks he might be sobbing, might even be calling Eddie “daddy” some more.
He thinks he might hear Eddie mumble something along the lines of: “Let me come inside of you, please. I need to fill you up.”
At the next particularly hard thrust, Buck cannot hold back anymore. His entire body locks up, clenching around the cock inside him, as it hits his prostate just so, hard enough that he sees stars, all the air punched from his lungs. He sobs out Eddie’s name, as cum starts spurting from his cock, without any of them ever having touched it. He feels hot cum hitting his own stomach, spurting up over his chest and soaking into the sheets below him.
At the same moment, he can hear Eddie curse softly into his ear, before teeth lock into his shoulder. The pain is a welcome distraction, piercing through his post-orgasmic blissful haze. He can feel Eddie twitch inside of him, thinks he must mumble a small “holy shit”, when hot spurts of cum cover his insides, filling him up completely. Eddie’s hips move once, twice more before they still, his cock driven as deep as it will go into Buck’s body.
Almost immediately, he collapses into the wet patch on his sheets, his body completely boneless, feeling like puddy under Eddie’s weight. Their breathing is harsh, pants sounding loud in the silence of the apartment around them. There is a squelching sound as Eddie pulls out of him, leaving him gaping open and he can feel cum trickling from his abused hole.
“Shit, look at you, baby, you came so much. You are so hot, I love you so much. You were so good for me, such a good boy.”
He cannot bring himself to answer, but Buck cranes his neck, tilting his chin up in a silent request for a kiss. Eddie leans down, pressing their mouths together quickly. It’s less dirty and less rushed than before. Just the lazy slide of mouths, a tongue swiping gently over kiss-swollen, bitten lips to soothe the sting. It is everything Buck ever wants in his life.
All too soon, Eddie pulls away from him.
Buck is distantly aware of footsteps leading in the direction of the bathroom. He can hear water rushing, wet sounds reaching his ears, before a moment later, the footsteps return, a warm washcloth swiping over his back, cleaning him up, before he is bodily rolled out of the wet patch, the washcloth passing over his stomach and chest.
“Are you alright, love? Can you sit up for me?”
It takes every single ounce of strength left in his body for Buck to sit up against the headboard. Distantly, he registers something cold pressing against his lips. Looking at Eddie with half-lidded, hazy eyes, he recognizes the feeling as glass pressing into his mouth. Water slowly being poured into his mouth that he slowly swallows.
“Are you back with me?” Eddie asks, another soft smile gracing his features, even though there is a worried crease forming around his eyes.
“Yeah,” Buck nods lazily, even though he still cannot feel most of his body. “I’m with you.” And after a short pause, he adds: “I love you. So. Much.”
Eddie laughs, bright, ringing like bells in Buck’s ears. He cannot wait for the rest of his life to hear that kind of laugh every single day. “Okay, cariño, lay down. Time to cuddle. We have a couple hours before we need to get up and get to work.”
Buck flops back into the sheets, pulling Eddie’s body against his own, intertwining their fingers and hands and arms and legs, and taking up as much of the older man’s space as he possibly can, just snuggling into his love’s body heat. It takes no effort at all for his eyes to fall closed and for him to fall asleep within seconds of pillowing his head on Eddie’s shoulder, pressing a quick kiss to the skin beneath his lips.
--
When they finally make it into work for their shift, the lower level of the station is suspiciously quiet. Buck cannot see anyone from A shift mingling, not close to the ambulance, nor the fire engine. There is nobody occupying the gym, and the locker room is also ominously empty.
There is, however, in his locker, a simple, innocent-looking manila folder. When he opens it, a post-it note falls out that reads “very happy for you, son, please return these filled out and signed by both of you asap :)”. When he looks at the first sentence on the papers within the folder, his heart stutters at reading “declaration of relationship”, already imagining filling it out and maybe updating it one day, ending it with a small “Evan Diaz” scribbled where his signature will go.
Pulling his work shirt over his chest, he makes his way up to the loft, straight to the coffee machine. After the events of this morning, all he really wants is a good strong cup of coffee to get him through the rest of his day, especially when everybody’s seemingly aware of his changed relationship status already.
He doesn’t even make it halfway across the loft before the sound of a mug crashing to the floor breaks him out of his thoughts. Curiously looking up, he finds Chimney standing motionless in the kitchen space, pieces of porcelain and rivulets of coffee pooling around his feet, Chimney’s eyes focused on Buck.
“Holy FUCK,” Chimney says, just loud enough to carry over to where Buck is standing.
“What?” Buck asks, feeling like he was left out of some joke that he should be getting.
“Diaz, you are a fucking vampire!” Chimney yells instead, gaze floating to the couch, where Hen, Eddie and Ravi are lounging in between calls. Buck can see all of them look up at the exact same time, zeroing in on him, but not his face - their gazes are stuck on something right below his face.
Hesitantly, Buck raises his hand, swiping over his neck self-consciously. “What?” he repeats, even though he knows he will not get any responses.
Hen seems to be the first to snap out of her staring, slapping a hand over Eddie’s shoulder. “You haven’t even been with that boy for half a day and already you’ve marked him up like a dog in heat pissing on every second tree!”
Even though Eddie tries to look sheepish, the grin pulling on his lips is too self-satisfied. Buck can make out a dark blush forming on his boyfriend’s - oh , that feels nice - cheeks, knowing exactly what he seems to be thinking about. If his neck looks as bad as Chimney makes it out to be, then that’s nothing compared to his chest and his lower back. He doesn’t even want to think about the clear bite mark that aches gently on his shoulder.
Ravi, to his credit, does not seem fazed at all. He just turns to Eddie, nods once and then, in the most uninterested voice ever says: “Congrats on coming out, welcome to the community. I’m never inviting anyone out to our club night ever again.”