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The thing is, once Buck realized Eddie had never been on a vacation (a real vacation Edmundo), it had been mission critical to take him on one. And once Buck set his mind doing something, he did it right.
Lining up their schedules is easy; Bobby keeps them on the same shift rotation to limit the amount of bitching and complaining that happens when one of them has to work without the other. It’s better for everyone, really, to keep Buck and Eddie together.
One week, a nasty flu had swept through C-shift and Eddie had offered to swing over and help cover. Captain Anderson had threatened to send him back posthaste if Buck didn’t stop calling every hour and “stopping by” the firehouse randomly just to “check in on things” and “see how everyone was doing.’
Buck gets his clipboard out (really the FireSync app) and gets to work lining up the shift cycles and adding in Kelly Days and factoring in Chris’ school schedule and he eventually picks the middle of January, after the stresses of the holidays are over.
He doesn’t let Eddie plan anything. He spends hours researching getaways (romantic getaways) an easy drive from Los Angeles (he ends up with so many browser tabs open that he crashes Firefox) and lands on Arrowbear Lake up in the San Bernardino Mountains. It’ll take them two hours, maybe two and a half, depending on weather and traffic to get there. Just the right amount of time to get out of the city without feeling like they’re wasting precious vacation time on the freeway.
He spends another research deep-dive to find the best place for them to stay. Secluded, yes of course, but not impossible to get to, or out of, if they get a lot of snow. He wants something rustic, but with amenities like a hot tub (he’s going to need to soak his leg in that kind of cold and he wants to see Eddie all pink and glowing from the steam). Private, naturally. He’s not about to be sharing walls with families when he gets Eddie to himself for 5 days. The point is to be alone with each other.
It’s going to be perfect.
Eddie rides shotgun and dozes in the passenger seat. They left early in the morning with travel mugs of coffee after eating the breakfast burritos Buck prepped the night before.
The first hour of the trip is like any other, I-210 taking them away from LA and towards San Bernardino. Buck keeps the music low while Eddie sleeps and struggles to keep his eyes on the road instead of the lovely line of Eddie’s jaw and the relaxed curve of his mouth.
When Buck exits north onto CA-330, deep green pine trees start lining the highway and he finally feels like he’s outside of Los Angeles. Even the sky looks different through the windshield, cleaner, clearer. The temperature drops as the elevation climbs and Buck turns the heat up just a little. They’d had to dig winter coats out of the depths of the closet just for this trip. The road begins to wind, following the path of the mountain side. Snow is on the shoulders, getting deeper and deeper, but the road beneath his tires is clear. Buck is prepared with cables in the back and a full tank of gas. He’s a firefighter after all and he’s not about to get stuck anywhere and have to call for rescue. And he’s a northern boy at heart, besides. He’s driven in snow before.
CA-330 becomes CA-18 and Eddie stirs, yawning and stretching as much as he can in the confined space and Buck reaches over to squeeze his thigh.
“Sorry for knocking out on you,” Eddie murmurs, looking over at him from the passenger seat.
“S’okay.”
Snow begins to gather on the tree limbs and Buck doesn’t remember the last time winter felt like winter. It’s beautiful and he’s missed it, so far from Pennsylvania.
They drive past gorgeous timber lodges nestled up in the trees and little roadside collections of gas stations and restaurants. Buck catches a sign for “Rocky’s Roadhouse” and makes a note to come back down to try it out, if they ever end up leaving the cabin.
“How much farther?” Eddie asks.
“Almost there.”
It’s perfect.
“Oh, damn,” Eddie breathes, looking at the rental that will be theirs for the week.
It’s an A-frame cabin tucked high in the snowy pines of Arrowbear Lake. It took a long, winding driveway to reach and Buck briefly wonders if there’s a sled in storage they can borrow. A wraparound porch circles the house, offering view that are probably just as good in the summer, and the listing promised a hot tub at the back, looking out towards the mountain slopes. A few warm lights are on inside the cabin, illuminating the inside through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
No other homes are visible around them, but Buck thinks maybe he can see lights way off in the distance.
It’s quiet, so quiet. No other cars. No honking horns. No construction. No tones blaring through the fire station sending them out on a call. No one else talking, demanding anything. Just the muted rustle of the trees and the crunch of snow under their boots.
The air is crisp and cold – light with the nostalgic fragrance of pine, a hint of wood smoke, and the singular scent of fresh snow.
“Good on you,” Eddie says, impressed.
“Yeah?”
Eddie looks up at him. His cheeks are pink from the cold. “Yeah, Buck.”
Buck wants to preen, wants to puff out his chest and howl. “You haven’t even seen the inside yet.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “I think it’s going to be perfect.”
Eddie barely lets Buck put his bags down in entryway before he’s on him, pulling Buck into his arms by his lapels and kissing him soundly.
“But the fireplace,” Buck tries to protest, because the fireplace was very important to picking the house, but Eddie swallows his words.
“Later.” Eddie bites at his lower lip and then surges inside, licking at Buck’s teeth, his tongue. He has a point; Eddie’s kisses are more important than the fireplace.
Eddie scrabbles at the zipper of Buck’s coat, tugging harshly to get it down and off Buck’s shoulders. He gets his hands under Buck’s sweater and his palms are cold. Buck yelps into Eddie’s mouth and then laughs.
“Cold.”
“I’ll warm you up,” Eddie says, he leers, and Buck snorts.
“Smooth.”
Less smooth is the dance through living room, unwilling to untangle their limbs, to stop the kiss. They stumble across the hardwood floor with its plush area rugs. Buck hip checks an armchair askew when he loses his balance as Eddie pulls his sweater and undershirt off and then bites at his collarbone. Eddie’s ass bounces off the back off the sofa as Buck tugs open his jeans and gets a hand down the front of his boxer-briefs. Eddie groans, deep and delicious, and Buck isn’t cold at all anymore.
“Get your shoes off,” Buck pants damply against Eddie’s neck, toeing his own boots off without losing his hold on Eddie’s hardening cock.
Eddie loses his Henley on the narrow wooden staircase that leads up to the loft where the bed is. Buck gets distracted by the feeling of his chest hair under his palms and the way his nipples harden and peak under his tongue, and he nearly takes Eddie down to the stairs to fuck him there. But the promise of a mattress and sheets and not getting splinters in his knees or ass keeps him upright.
The king-sized bed is all plaid bedding and pillows, nestled under the steep A-frame rafters. Buck barely notices the view out towards the trees and the mountain slopes before Eddie has him on his back, staring at the ceiling while Eddie shoves his pants off and mouths his nipples at the same time.
“Pocket,” Buck gasps, pointing weakly at his jeans, which are sliding off the edge of the bed to the floor.
Eddie detaches himself long enough to snag the pants and dig into one pocket, and then the other, until he produces a travel-sized bottle of lube.
Eddie lifts an eyebrow at Buck. His eyes are dark. “This in your pocket the whole drive?”
Buck shrugs, one hand rubbing slowly across his chest, the other loose and low on his belly. His cock is hard beneath the fly of his underwear, but he’s waiting for Eddie to take them off for him. “I was right though.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie crawls back over him, kissing him until he can’t breathe, until all he can taste is Eddie’s tongue.
Eddie gets them both naked, tugging Buck’s underwear down his thighs, biting bruises into his flesh along the way. Strong fingers dig into his muscles as Eddie runs his hands back up Buck’s legs, pushing his thighs apart so he can get between them. Buck reaches down, cupping Eddie’s chin, brushing his thumb across Eddie’s damp lips. Eddie’s eyes fall closed and he sucks Buck’s thumb into his mouth. Heat pulses through Buck, shivering down his spine and twisting through his belly, making his muscles clench. Eddie lets go of his thumb and lowers his head.
Snow falls outside and Eddie’s mouth is burning around his cock, moving slow and steady because they have all the time in the world. No alarms. No kid playing video games in the other room. No rush before shift. Just them. Just Eddie’s mouth and too-hot tongue on the head of his cock, matching his strokes with his fist, wringing aching, familiar pleasure from Buck. Just Eddie thrusting lazily against the bed as he sucks Buck off. Just the feeling of Eddie’s hair gripped tightly in Buck’s fist.
Eddie sinks down, burying his nose in Buck’s pubic hair, Buck tips his head back into the pillows and groans, as loud as he wants because they’re alone, blessedly alone.
“Hey,” Buck pants, a warning.
Eddie pulls off him. His mouth is so red – spit and Buck’s precome shining on his lips and chin. Sweat’s begun to gather at his hairline; he’s flushed down to his neck.
“What?”
Buck rolls his eyes and thrusts up, hard, wet cock bumping Eddie’s chest. “Get to it.”
Eddie shakes his head, but Buck can tell it’s his why do I love this fucking idiot head shake.
“Getting too old to come twice?” Eddie asks while he pushes Buck’s good leg up, exposing his ass.
Buck shifts, getting comfortable. “Just want it like this.”
Like this is breathing in deep as Eddie teases his hole with lube-wet fingers, making promises he intends to keep while leaning over to suck new bruises into the crease of his hip. Like this is twisting restlessly and pinching his own nipples with trembling fingers when Eddie slides the first long finger inside, moving slowly to give him time to adjust. Like this is moaning and sweating and spreading his legs wider as Eddie works a third finger into him, tonguing at his aching cock at the same time.
Like this is Eddie getting Buck’s thighs under his arms, tilting his hips just so, and sliding inside in a slow, familiar stroke. Buck moans Eddie’s name and grips his arms and lets himself feel it. The stretch and the ache and the fullness. The way Eddie shouldn’t fit but does. The heat that starts in his ass and spreads through his hips, his belly, up his spine and all the way to his fingers and toes. The way every heavy thrust knocks the breath from his lungs, leaving him gasping. The slap of Eddie’s balls against his ass. How Eddie can fuck up into him just so, just right, and the heat becomes an impossibly bright spear of pleasure that almost hurts if it didn’t feel so fucking good.
“Eddie,” Buck moans, and he winds his arms around Eddie’s shoulders, pulling him down closer. As close as he can, needing every bit of skin against his he can manage. Eddie tucks his sweaty face into the curve of Buck’s neck, panting harshly, and that’s good too.
It’s harder for Eddie to thrust as deeply like this, but Buck doesn’t mind. He can rub his cock against the planes and ridges of Eddie’s stomach, leaving trails of precome across Eddie’s skin while Eddie grinds against his prostate. Everywhere Eddie touches him sparks like little lightning. He could stay like this forever, Eddie fucking into him so good, breathing against his throat, just the two of them. Nothing else to worry about. No one else in the world.
Except he can’t, because his orgasm roars down on him, faster than he wants, but unrelenting when it comes to Eddie. It rolls over him, inexorable – back arching, heat burning up his sides, body clenching down hard around Eddie while he comes all over himself in thick ropes.
“Fuck,” Buck groans, spasming around the hard cock inside him. Every uncontrollable twitch makes sharp pleasure spark through him. His fucking scalp tingles.
“Yeah.” Eddie lifts his head, bites at the edge of Buck’s jaw. “Good.” His hips snap up, fucking into Buck a little deeper, a little harder, and Buck’s cock jerks, weak spurts of come landing on his belly.
“Eddie,” Buck urges, dragging a hand through Eddie’s sweat-damp hair and Eddie comes, falling out of rhythm. Buck feels it, the pulse, the wet heat inside him, how it slides out of his ass when Eddie finally pulls out of him. He never thought it’d be something he loved, the unmistakable reminder of Eddie fucking him. But it is. He does. He wants everything so much.
Eddie collapses to the bed, pulling Buck into him in a sweaty tangle of arms and legs, uncaring of mess of cooling come smearing between them. Buck listens to the rapid pounding of Eddie’s heart, feels the rise and fall of his chest, takes in the distinctive scent of his skin and shampoo and the bitter mix of their spend. He presses his palm to round scar in Eddie’s shoulder and breathes in.
“Thank you,” Eddie whispers, when he gets his breath back.
“For that? That’s always on offer.”
Eddie runs his hand up and down Buck’s arm and he shivers at the touch. “For putting this whole thing together.”
Buck wants to say that he’d do anything for Eddie, but he’s pretty sure that’s implied.
Buck wakes a few hours later, or at least he thinks it is. There’s still light coming through the tall windows, but it’s soft and muted. Eddie must have gotten up at some point because Buck’s been wiped clean of come and he can smell a wood fire burning safely in the fireplace downstairs and he can hear the logs crackling. Shadows dance up the knotty pine walls and along the older wooden beams. The scent of cedar fills the cabin.
It’s snowing harder now. Buck can see it through the windows. Eddie’s still asleep, snuggled up against him, snoring just a little. His eyelashes are long and dark against his cheeks. Buck loves him so fucking much it feels like his heart might actually try and burst with it. When he was 22 and floundering, and 27 and heartbroken, he never thought life could be like this for him. But it is, somehow it is.
He can’t wait to get up in a little bit, make some lunch in the kitchen (he brought groceries to make them sandwiches, and later, pozole), and then curl up under blankets on the big couch in front of the fireplace with books they never get the chance to read.
And later they can test out the hot tub out on the deck. Maybe open some beers or wine and relax in the steaming water surrounded by the snowy pine trees, looking up at the stars (if the clouds have parted), and just be together.
Buck can’t imagine wanting for anything more.