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There’s something about the air here.
It’s heavier, thick with heat and salt. There’s that strange stillness that only comes with being far from home, tucked away from responsibilities and concerns of real life. Their rental is nestled on a quiet street just a five-minute walk from the beach, all whitewashed wood and gauzy curtains and soft, sun-faded linens. The windows are always open. The breeze smells like sunscreen and oranges. Nothing and no one can find them here. It’s just Buck and Eddie. Together.
The best part? Christopher is with Hen and Karen, who offered to babysit so that the two of them could go on a little romantic getaway together. They’ve lived in each other’s pockets for a long time. They’ve been doing life together. What they haven’t done is romance. So, when Hen had offered, they’d jumped at the opportunity for a long weekend away, kid free.
Eddie loves his son more than life, but this? This quiet, private stretch of time, just him and Buck? He didn’t realize how much he needed it until he stepped into it. Until he woke up to Buck’s weight draped across his back and remembered they didn’t have anywhere else to be. They didn't have a shift to get to or a teenager to cart off to school. There’s no grocery shopping or long list of chores. It’s just the two of them, existing in a place where time ceases to exist, where life moves while they stand still.
Three days. No work, no alarms, no reason to keep anything reined in.
And Buck—Buck is not reining it in.
The second morning, Eddie wakes slowly, pulled from sleep by warmth and the soft drag of fingertips down his stomach. The bedsheets are tangled around his legs, the room still dim with the early morning haze, and Buck is halfway to devouring him. He blinks and shifts, letting himself be pushed further into the bed beneath him.
“Morning,” Buck murmurs against his skin, mouth pressed to the back of Eddie’s shoulder.
Eddie hums, stretching just a little, and breathing out deep and slow.“ You’re insatiable.”
Buck chuckles. “Only when it comes to you.”
His hand trails lower, settling just above Eddie’s waistband. It’s not even teasing, not exactly—it’s a kind of reverent curiosity, like he’s mapping Eddie’s body for the hundredth time and still finding new places to linger.
“You’re staring again,” Eddie mumbles into the pillow. Buck is like this sometimes. Always wanting to take in Eddie, like he’s a painting hanging on the wall of a museum. Like he’s something precious and fragile that deserves to be cherished.
“I always stare.”
Eddie turns his head just enough to glance back. Buck’s eyes are heavy-lidded, his curls unruly from where they’ve been mashed into his pillow all night. His mouth already curved into that soft, dazed smile he only ever wears in private. The one that says he’s ready for anything that his partner is willing to give him.
And yeah. He’s staring. At Eddie’s ass.
Of course he is.
“You have no shame, ” Eddie says, groaning at the warm breath that dances over his naked skin.
“None,” Buck agrees. His palm smooths over the curve of Eddie’s hip, possessive in the way it grabs there, threatening a bruise. “Can you blame me?.”
Eddie groans, burying his face again. He feels his face flush, is sure that his cheeks are bright red. The same color that Buck loves, that he’ll press his lips against just to feel the heat. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re perfect,” Buck says, like it’s the easiest truth in the world. “Let me make you feel good,” he whispers.
Eddie breathes out shakily and nods.
Buck moves like he has all the time in the world, like there’s nothing outside the doors of this bedroom. His focused narrowed to one task
He kisses down Eddie’s back, warm and open-mouthed, slow enough to make him squirm and rut against the mattress. His hands are broad and sure, bracketing Eddie’s hips, fingers spreading across the small of his back like he’s holding something that might shatter a part if he touches too hard.
And then– God – Buck shifts lower, kisses a path down his spine, and Eddie knows exactly where this is going.
He still holds his breath like it’s the first time, like he’s never been touched or loved like this.
Buck doesn’t rush. He never does when it comes to this. He likes to savor it, to keep it for as long as possible. He kisses the backs of Eddie’s thighs, the dip just above, the skin so sensitive it makes Eddie tremble. And then he’s spreading Eddie open, slow and reverent, like he’s finally revealing the secrets of the universe.
Eddie fists the sheet and exhales roughly at the first swipe of tongue.
It’s not just the act. It’s not even the way Buck’s tongue starts slow and steady, stroking and circling until Eddie feels like he might shake apart before they get any further. It’s how he does it. With patience. With awe. With careful reverence. Like he’s lucky to be here, like he’d spend hours doing this if Eddie let him. And he would, Eddie knows that he would. Because this is more for Buck than it is for Eddie. It feels wonderful, like Buck has cracked him open in ways he couldn’t even have imagined before this. Not even in his wildest fantasies had he thought about it, about being touched there, let alone eaten out until he cried. But, no matter how good it feels, he knows that this does to Buck, how badly he wants it
“ Jesus, ” Eddie gasps, breath stuttering. “You’re gonna kill me.”
Buck hums against him, hands tightening on his hips. He pulls back just enough to lay a kiss to the inside of Eddie’s thigh and whisper, “Not yet. I have plans.”
It’s something like worship the way Buck touches him. Like every inch of him is worth savoring. Like this isn’t about getting either of them off. He’s feeding something deeper in the two of them, something greedy and tender all at once. Something aching.
Eddie doesn’t know what to do with that. With how safe it makes him feel. How wanted.
So with a sigh, he buries his face in the pillow and lets it take him.
----
Later, Eddie’s boneless, sprawled on his stomach, skin tingling with electricity and skin still damp with seat. Buck’s half on top of him, kissing at him lazily and sucking bruises into his neck; as if he can’t stop.
“You okay?” Buck asks, voice low.
Eddie snorts. “I might never walk again.”
Buck laughs, delighted. “I told you I missed this.”
“You act like it’s been months.”
“It’s been days, Eds,” he whines. “That’s a long time to go without tasting heaven.”
Eddie groans into the sheets at the attempt of a joke. “You’re the worst.”
“I’m the best, and you love it.”
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
Buck smiles, eyes soft and shining. “Too late.”
He drags a hand down Eddie’s back again, lingering at the base of his spine. “You let me touch you like no one else ever has.”
Eddie’s breath catches.
Buck doesn’t push. Doesn’t say it like it’s meant to corner him. He says it like a confession, quiet and awestruck.
“You let me see you,” he adds, kissing at the hinge of Eddie’s jaw. “And you’re so damn beautiful, I don’t know what to do with myself.”
Eddie closes his eyes. His chest aches with something too big to name.
He shifts back, tucks himself into Buck’s arms, and lets himself believe it.
-----
They leave the house later that afternoon. They walk down by the water, sand hot under their feet, and the waves are colder than either of them expect for early summer. They laugh, shoving and chasing each other into the surf like kids. Eddie hasn’t felt this light in a long time, maybe he never really has.
They grab fish tacos and a bottle of champagne in town, eating on their sun-baked patio, watching as the sky shifts from bright blue to molten gold.
Buck can’t keep his hands to himself. It’s fairly innocent as the evening progresses. A touch to Eddie’s back here and the slide of his hand down hips there. He presses a kiss to the curve of Eddie’s neck that lingers for a second too long and gently caresses his jaw. A touch at Eddie’s back. Eddie can feel the heat in it, the promise of what’s coming when they’re ready, when the sun has set and night blankets them once again.
By the time they stumble through the back door that night, Eddie’s already half-hard, skin buzzing with anticipation.
Buck doesn’t take him to bed right away.
He backs Eddie up against the wall just inside the sliding glass door and kisses him like it’s been weeks instead of hours. His hands are all over him—waist, chest, hips, ass. Especially his ass. Buck loves his ass, worships it really. And Eddie lets him.
“Can’t stop thinking about you,” Buck murmurs between kisses. “You know that?”
Eddie shivers, his brain to mouth connection unable to work enough to respond.
Buck palms him through his shorts, then slips his hands underneath, dragging them down until Eddie’s bare from the waist down, breath coming fast.
“I love every inch of you,” Buck says, dropping to his knees. “But this …”
He kisses at Eddie’s abs, the inside of his thigh, then looks up at him, eyes dark and pupils blown wide. “This is my favorite.”
Eddie groans, words impossible.
They don’t make it to the bedroom for another half hour.
-----
The last night here, they take it slow.
They sit out on the patio again with a bottle of wine shared between them. The night has a chill to it, but it’s comfortable. They listen to the crash of the waves as the sun sets, the bottle getting lower as the hours creep by. Buck props his feet on the railing, and Eddie leans back in his chair, feeling something in his chest loosen, unspool.
They talk.
About everything and nothing. About taking Chris to Yosemite this summer. About maybe fixing up Eddie’s front porch. About how good this feels—just being. Without fear. Without pretending they’re just friends, just coworkers, just two people who’ve been orbiting each other for years without ever touching.
Buck threads their fingers together. Eddie holds on.
When they finally crawl into bed, it’s quieter than before.
No teasing. No wrestling. Just slow kisses and the soft rustle of fabric being peeled away.
Eddie lies back, already aching for it, and Buck takes his time. He kisses every inch of him—chest, shoulders, ribs, hips. Every place Eddie used to guard like a secret. Every place Buck’s claimed as his.
And then Buck flips him over, gentle but sure. Eddie goes willingly, doesn’t resist.
He feels the press of Buck’s mouth on his back, kisses trailing lower and lower, until he’s gasping, trembling, barely able to hold himself up.
Buck spreads him open and licks into him like it’s all he’s ever wanted.
And maybe it is.
Eddie doesn’t speak. Doesn’t dare. He’s not sure his voice would work if he tried.
This is his favorite version of Buck. The one whos’ steady and sure, who knows what he’s doing and does it with expert precision. He falls into it, lets himself be taken care of, be pleasured. Buck’s still learning him. And Eddie—Eddie’s never been the kind of man who let himself be loved like this. Not the kind of person who lets himself be touched and wanted. Receiving is more difficult than giving, always has been for Eddie.
But with Buck, it’s effortless.
-----
After, they lie tangled together in the dim light, the only sound their breath and the distant crash of waves through the open window.
Eddie rests his head on Buck’s chest. There’s fingers stroking his hair, and a hand gripping lightly at his hip, holding him close.
“You okay?” Buck asks quietly.
Eddie exhales. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good in my life.”
“You let me love you.”
Eddie’s heart stutters. “I didn’t know I could,” he says, voice rough.
“You can,” Buck whispers. “You do.”
He tilts Eddie’s chin, kisses him slow, deep and full of longing and want. “You’re everything to me, Eds.”
Eddie closes his eyes and lets the words wash over him. Lets himself believe it.
Here, in this quiet house, with no eyes on them, no weight of the world pressing in—Eddie finally lets go.
He gives in.
And Buck catches every part of him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Like loving Eddie is what he was made for.
Like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.
Nowhere but here.