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Buck sits alone at a bar in Austin, halfway to miserable.
It was a long, boring day at that stupid first responders conference Chim roped him into attending. For all intents and purposes, it’s the exact thing Buck should be into; he loves learning and he loves his job, but the trip just wasn't what he expected.
The thing is, he wasn’t supposed to be alone. Hen should be here, too, but she had to cancel at the last minute after the entire Wilson household got rocked with the flu. And no one else was willing to fill in. Apparently, none of them thought a trip out of state with Buck was worth it.
“We were gonna go on a sightseeing tour tomorrow,” he informs Alison the bartender while she pours him another from the tap, picking up where he left off when she stepped away to serve another group.
“What?” she asks, tapping by her ear.
Oh, yeah. It's louder now. Buck scans the room. The crowd nearly doubled in size without him even noticing.
“My friend,” Buck elaborates, leaning closer and projecting his voice so she can hear him. “She couldn’t make it.”
She frowns and slides his pint over. “That sucks.”
“Thanks.”
It’s obvious she’s placating him. He stares at the trickle of foam spilling over his glass, resolving to quit bothering her from here on out.
He turns on his stool to survey his surroundings now that it’s busier. It’s a bit of a dive. A little hole in the wall he nearly overlooked on his walk back to the hotel after dinner. It wasn’t obvious at the time what demographic it might attract, but it seems like an eclectic mix.
There’s a few heavily tattooed people. Some colorful hair. Trucker hats and flannel.
A trio of rowdy guys a few paces away makes Buck scowl. Apparently, run-of-the-mill gym bro douchebags are everywhere.
They're the type Buck does his damneddest to avoid. It’s why he likes the set-up in his backyard so much, despite how much Hen and Ravi tease him for it. But why would he suffer through sharing equipment with assholes who never spray anything down with disinfectant, who get in the way, checking themselves out in the mirror when everyone else is trying to work out, or worse, who use the gym as a place to hit on disinterested women, when he can just stay home instead?
He rests an elbow against the bartop and continues watching. One of them—the shorter one—keeps not-so-discreetly puffing on a vape.
Buck scoffs at him before taking a sip of his lager.
Every minute or so, he sucks on it greedily and casts his beady little eyes on every woman in his vicinity, elbowing his friend with the gross goatee to get him to take a look, too. All three take turns catcalling and making fun of each other when they get rejected.
What tools.
At least Buck isn't alone in his annoyance. A man a few stools closer to the three stooges keeps shooting them the stink eye between sips of his tequila on the rocks.
Yeah, Buck knows what he’s drinking. He made a note of the bottle Alison grabbed from the bottom shelf when the guy ordered. He couldn’t help paying attention considering how handsome he is. And now that Buck knows they have something in common—hatred for these three losers—he considers telling Alison that the man’s next round is on Buck and to grab the good stuff from the top shelf while she’s at it, but that might be an unwelcome move here. It's tough to tell.
Oh, well. He has something else to distract him for the night at least.
Buck looks around for a security guard, but there doesn’t seem to be one. Seems like Alison, a barback, and a couple servers are all they’ve got. Buck doesn’t mind being the guy to step in if needed, if anything escalates. Which it seems like it’s bound to, so he keeps guard on his stool, working through the many possible ways a confrontation might go.
Halfway through his pint, however, the empty stool beside him gets claimed.
“Hi.”
He peels himself away from his task and recalibrates. The woman before him is pretty. Dark features. Tall. Her hair is long and silky, shiny despite the dim light of the bar. And she’s smiling at him.
Maybe this could be what he needs to turn the night around… make things a little more interesting.
He smiles back.
“Hey,” he responds, shifting his posture from guard dog to human man.
They get to chatting, and Buck winds up losing track of the trio.
It turns out, Bree likes that he’s a firefighter. Most people usually do. When she finds out, she breaks the touch barrier, brushing her hand against his bicep.
He grins and flexes a little. She laughs when she notices.
“You did not just flex.”
He shakes his head slowly and smiles. “Nope, definitely not. That’d be pretty obnoxious.”
“Uh huh,” she smirks back at him and takes a sip of her beer. “How much can you bench press, anyway?”
He opens his mouth to answer, but before he can, the vaping stooge from earlier stumbles up to the bar and bumps right into Bree. She whips her head around.
“Hey, beautiful,” he slurs, visibly checking her out as he puffs out a sickly sweet cotton candy cloud in her face.
She stiffens. “You wish,” she states and puts her back to him again, scrunching her face. The stooge rolls his eyes and scoffs.
“Wanna switch spots?” offers Buck, moving to stand.
“No, it’s fine.” She waves it off, setting her hand down on his thigh to still him, leaning even closer. “So, you were about to start bragging that you could lift me up like it’s nothing.”
Buck laughs. But again, before he can respond, the guy slaps his hands on the bartop and starts drumming obnoxiously.
It resurrects his irritation with a vengeance.
“Hey, man. Knock it off,” Buck warns, doing his best to play it calm and cool in front of Bree. He knows fighting is a pretty major turn off for most civilized people.
With a quick side-eye, the guy pauses. “Pfft,” he responds and returns to his attempt to get Alison’s attention, who is busy on the other side of the bar. “Ugh, this bitch.” Cupping his hands around his mouth, he hollers, “Hellooo?”
Bree widens her eyes, exacerbated, dragging her stool even closer to Buck.
“Dude, what's the hold up!” One of the other stooges yells over to him. He turns to reply and knocks into Bree again, sloshing her beer all up her arm.
“Watch it!” She jumps to her feet, shaking off what she can.
He cringes and finally gives her more space while his friends jeer in the distance.
Buck glowers as he reaches over the ledge of the bar for some napkins. “You okay?” he asks, handing her a pile.
“Yeah, thanks,” she murmurs as she dabs at herself, checking him out again now that he’s standing. “I’m gonna go wash up…”
She gives him a significant look, like he’d be welcome to follow if he wanted, before taking off in the direction of the bathrooms. He watches her go, considering his options, because now that she’s gone, there’s nothing in Buck’s way to stop him from properly confronting this asshole, who didn't even bother apologizing, and is apparently still trying to get served.
Buck sizes him up. He’s shorter by a couple inches, that’s for sure. But he’s stocky. His muscles look like a form over function sort of thing, but considering his demeanor, he's no stranger to fighting.
“Hey man,” Buck calls over to him. “I think you’ve probably had enough.”
He scowls and flips Buck the bird, waving it right in his face. “Fuck off.”
That’s the last straw. Tonight was the wrong night to challenge Buck’s justice sensitivity. Buck swats his hand away and steps closer. Pointing in the direction of the bathrooms, Buck enunciates clearly, “How about you tell that nice lady how sorry you are when she gets back.”
It earns Buck a dirty look. “Who the fuck are you, bro?”
“I'm the guy who's teaching you some manners since, apparently, your mom never did. You’re buying her a new drink.”
“Fuck that.” He tries to turn away, but Buck stops him with a hand to his shoulder. “Dude, get outta my face!”
He shoves Buck, and his low center of gravity seems to work in his favor, because Buck stumbles back into the stools. One crashes to the ground. Before Buck can even register it, the handsome guy nursing tequila is on his feet, fisting the vaping stooge’s shirt, hoisting him up, and slamming him against the wall.
It’s a blur after that. The other two gym bros join in the mix. Buck blinks at the commotion for a second, but when he realizes it's currently three against one, he goes barreling in.
He lands a couple blows, takes a couple, too, before bystanders step in and manage to break things up. Evidently, there is a security guard, because he’s there, holding the handsome stranger back.
“Fuck, Johnny,” the security guard scolds Buck’s public enemy number one. “You trying to get me fired?”
“Ah, c’mon cuz,” he shakes out of the person's grip holding him back and points at Buck. “That prick started it.”
“You guys are cousins?” the handsome stranger asks, scowling.
The security guard ignores him and continues speaking to Johnny. “Go cool off for a bit, alright?”
“Whatever,” Johnny grumbles, already heading for the front door with his friends in tow. A smattering of applause sounds as they go.
“And you two gotta leave, or we’re calling the cops,” the security guard orders as soon as the door shuts.
Buck makes eye contact with his spontaneous partner in crime. He's obviously still seething, clenching his jaw. Buck really wants to avoid getting them tossed in the drunk tank. “We’re going,” Buck declares.
“Out back. Better get a move on before they start looking for you.”
It sort of feels like a set up, but they don’t have much choice.
“Got it.” Buck tosses his head in the direction of the exit and starts walking, checking over his shoulder to make sure the other man is following. He is.
They break out into the night air, and Buck takes a moment to orient himself.
Shadows cast against the brick walls of the buildings as a group of people approaches the entrance to the alley, followed by the timbre of drunken male voices.
The pair make eye contact. It could be Johnny and his friends.
“This way,” the other man says, taking off in the opposite direction. Finally some okay luck. Buck is pretty sure that’s in the direction of his hotel. They run down the alley together and turn onto the next street, weaving seamlessly together up a few blocks, putting distance between themselves and the bar.
When they reach an area with enough people to blend in, they slow, falling into step with each other. Buck checks over his shoulder, but he's pretty sure they weren't followed.
As they walk, they bump shoulders. It’s nice despite the pain in his side and his jaw.
“Hey, uh, thanks for—” he begins, but stops when he catches sight of the nasty bruise blooming under the stranger’s eye. “Jesus, are you okay?”
Buck pulls them into the alcove of a shuttered business. He goes willingly but flinches when Buck reaches out for the bruise. His eyes catch on the man’s banged up knuckles.
“You should really let me take a look at that.”
“It's fine.” He winces as he slides his hands into his pockets to hide them. “I can just go to the hospital if I need to.”
“No, hey, come on. Don't spend money on something like that, not after what you did for me. My hotel’s just up the street.”
The man narrows his eyes suspiciously at Buck.
“I can help,” Buck insists. “I’m a firefighter. I know first aid.”
It might not be as convincing as Buck figured it’d be, judging by the man’s continued uncertain expression.
“How’s that girlfriend of yours gonna feel about you bringing a drunken, bloody stranger back to your room?”
Buck’s head quirks in confusion. “Girlfriend?” The man looks up at him defiantly as Buck tries to piece it together. “Oh, Bree? No, she’s not my girlfriend. I only met her like… half an hour ago.”
“Huh. You two seemed to be hitting it off. Sure you don’t wanna go back? See if she wants to come with you instead?"
Is he jealous? Buck smirks at the possibility. “You were watching us.”
Blushing at the accusation, he looks away. “Yeah, well… Can you blame me? You’re hard not to notice.”
Buck’s smirk expands into a pleased smile over the unexpected turn of events. He settles his shoulder against the wall.
“You know, I really wanted to buy you a drink earlier,” Buck informs him. “Wasn’t sure if you’d be interested, though.”
“Really?” His eyes lift to Buck’s. Jesus. He could get lost in those all night. Buck nods. “Well,” the man’s posture softens, “I was interested.”
Buck beams. “Come back with me,” he insists. “I’ll get you some ice… assess you…” Buck steps closer and offers him his most flirtatious smile. “...I promise I’ll keep you up all night.”
His eyebrows shoot up.
“You know, in case you got a concussion,” Buck finishes.
Shaking his head, the man says, “Wow,” around a smile and laughs. “What a line.”
“Oh, I have way more where that came from.”
“I don’t doubt it,” he comments. “Well in that case, lead the way.”
Buck wasn’t lying; the hotel is a short walk from where they wound up. As they make their way, they continue bumping shoulders and take turns sneaking glances. Unfortunately, they aren’t alone in the elevator, so Buck can’t make the first move quite yet, but he likes when these things drag out, anyway, when the anticipation grows as taut as it possibly can before it snaps.
The man whistles at the jacuzzi when they step inside Buck’s suite. It’s a bit much; in the same room as the bed, surrounded by mirrors.
“Come on.” Buck leads him past it to the little loveseat. Once he’s settled, Buck locates the ice bucket. “I’ll be right back.”
“You’re gonna trust me with your stuff? I could rob you blind, and what would you tell the cops? You don’t even know my name.”
Buck considers him. The anonymity is thrilling, and it seems like he’s not the only one who thinks so, judging by the look on his face.
“Hmm, they have sketch artists for that,” Buck counters. “All I need is a description. Get your wanted poster plastered all over the streets of Austin.”
“Oh?” He leans back on the couch, tipping his chin toward Buck. “And how would you describe me?”
The fishing surprises Buck, but in a good way.
Buck hums, resting against the dresser, crossing his arms. The man’s eyes fall to Buck’s biceps.
“Let’s see…” Buck takes his time looking him over. His dark hair, which was styled back with gel before, has since come loose. A few strands fall over his forehead. He's in good shape. He has a script tattoo wrapping around his arm in the same spot as one of Buck’s.
“Handsome stranger…” Buck pauses. “With the most incredible brown eyes…”
He blushes.
“...Cute rosy cheeks. A great smile…”
He rolls his eyes, but he does in fact smile.
“...An even greater ass, and… a pretty mean right hook.”
He snorts and shakes his head. “I don't know how helpful any of that will be.”
Buck scrunches his nose. “Shoot. Guess I'm screwed, huh?”
“Maybe you are.”
They gaze at each other.
“I mean, you had my back earlier, so,” he shrugs. “I bet I can trust you.” Buck points at him as he retrieves the ice bucket with his other hand. “Now, don’t move a muscle.”
“Scout’s honor,” the man promises, accompanying it with a three-finger salute.
As casually as he can, Buck strides to the door, but he picks up speed down the hallway to the ice machine, buzzing from the residual adrenaline, eager to get back to his guest as soon as possible. Not only is he hot as hell, but he’s funny, too. And despite the fighting, he seems really sweet.
Back with his bounty, Buck wets a cloth, fishes out his mini first aid kit while he’s in the bathroom, and then sets everything up on the side table next to the couch.
Buck remains standing, stepping between the man’s legs as he brings the cloth-wrapped ice to his face. He hisses when it makes contact, covering Buck’s hand with his own. They pause for a moment, holding the ice in place together. It’s the first actual contact they’ve made, and Buck can’t help but notice how big the guy’s hands are.
Reluctantly, Buck slides his hand free, letting him hold it there on his own, and leans to the side to retrieve the disinfectant to clean the scuffs on his knuckles.
“Wait,” the man says, reaching out and tugging on Buck’s shirt.
Buck rights himself and looks down. There’s a small tear revealing a bruise right at his ribs. He sucks in a breath when the man slips his hand under, making contact with Buck’s flank as he lifts the shirt up.
“Jesus, he got you good,” he remarks before dropping the ice pack into the bucket. He continues pulling Buck’s shirt up, big brown eyes flicking up and down. Buck huffs and takes it off completely, swallowing when the man plants his hands on either side of Buck’s waist.
“Got you good, too,” Buck croaks, already painfully turned on. “Gonna be a shiner.”
“Oh yeah?” He lets Buck touch his cheekbone this time, right at the boundary of the bruise. Buck nods, trailing his fingers down his jaw to his lips. Meanwhile, the man ghosts over Buck’s ribs and up to his pec, looking up at Buck as he thumbs his nipple. Opening his mouth, he teases at Buck’s fingers with his tongue. “Is it sexy at least?”
After Buck hums in the affirmative, he smiles and closes his lips around Buck's fingers. The sight makes Buck’s dick twitch and his ribs flare. It hurts a little as his breathing deepens, but he likes it. Stepping closer, he pulls his fingers free. Buck wants to kiss him so badly, but the man sustains eye contact as he leans forward, kissing just above Buck’s navel and then lower, while palming at the hard line in Buck’s jeans.
“Oh, fuck,” Buck groans, brushing those strands away from his face to get a better look at him.
“Love how hairy you are,” the man says between peppered kisses, undoing Buck’s fly.
“Used to wax.”
He scoffs as if it offends him. “Never do that again.”
Buck threads his fingers through his hair. “Okay. I won’t.”
“Good.” He pulls Buck’s pants down; Buck steps out of the legs. “You’re wet,” he remarks, kissing the darkened wet fabric covering the head of Buck’s cock.
Buck growls. Possessed, he hauls him to his feet, undoing his belt as he manhandles him to the bed. When he falls down onto the mattress, Buck grabs onto his pant legs and starts yanking. The man laughs, scrambling to get his zipper down, and shimmies his ass while he pulls his shirt off. In no time, he’s naked, propping himself up on his elbows, watching Buck hungrily. His dick is uncut and flushed a deep red at the tip. It's rock hard against his stomach.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” Buck breathes, palming at his cock through his boxers while his stranger slowly spreads his legs.
“You gonna fuck me?” he asks Buck.
“Yeah. God.” Buck nods fervently. He was about to offer the same—maybe if they go more than once like Buck hopes they will, they can try it a few different ways. He grabs the small bottle of lube from his kit, thankful to his past self for packing it, and returns, kicking off his boxers before kneeling on the bed between strong, hairy thighs.
Buck wets his fingers and spreads the lube around his asshole, luxuriating in the heat of his tight walls as he pushes in.
The man rolls his hips. “More,” he writhes.
Buck pulls out and teases a third finger.
“No c'mon, don’t wanna wait. Want your cock.”
Doing as he’s told, Buck lubes himself up and rubs his cockhead around his hole, adding pressure, but not enough to slip inside. The man grows impatient and hooks his legs around Buck's, flipping them over in one swift move.
“Whoa,” Buck remarks dumbly through the head rush. Before he can adjust to his new position, the man lines them up and sinks down so fast Buck has to squeeze the base of his cock to stop himself from coming. Thankfully, the man stills. “Shit. Sorry, you're just so—”
“So what?”
“So fucking hot,” Buck finishes. “It's unbelievable.”
He huffs and folds forward, kissing Buck for the very first time. His lips are perfect. The way he kisses is perfect. Buck whines, places his hands on the guy’s waist, and grinds up into the wet, hot clutch of him. He rolls his hips in response, leaning back and planting his hands on the bed for stability.
Their momentum grows as the stranger meets each of Buck’s thrusts, his cock bobbing in the air between them.
“Would she be here if I didn’t step in and get us kicked out?” he asks Buck breathlessly, seemingly out of nowhere.
Is he really asking about Bree again? God, the jealousy is driving Buck nuts.
“I dunno, maybe,” Buck lies, gripping him harder and snapping his hips up, fucking in deep. It’s a bit of a risk, but Buck is pretty sure he’s reading him right. “I think she wanted me to follow her. Mighta fucked her in a bathroom stall instead.”
He growls and pries Buck’s hands from his waist, capturing his wrists and planting them above his head. Taking over, he grinds round and round in deep, filthy circles. “Yeah? You’d rather be balls deep in her pussy right now? Think she’d feel better than me?”
He lifts up on his knees, high enough that Buck is sure he’s about to slip out. Buck whines at the loss of heat, dizzy, shaking his head and clenching his trapped fists. “Fuck no. God, just want you.”
It’s the right answer. He smiles at Buck and finally slams down, repeating the slow lift and quick slam over and over again, picking up the pace each time.
“Tell me how good I feel,” he demands as he fucks himself on Buck’s cock.
“Holy shit. You feel amazing.”
“Tell me you’re mine.”
“‘m yours.”
It earns Buck another kiss—deep and possessive and biting. “That's right.”
Bouncing on Buck harder, he releases a wrist so he can hook his fingers over Buck’s bottom teeth, prying his mouth open wide. Without warning, he spits on Buck’s tongue. Buck’s eyes flutter and roll into the back of his head as he cradles the spit dutifully until the stranger wraps a gentle but firm hand over his throat.
“Swallow it,” he says.
Buck’s Adam’s apple struggles under the weight of his grip.
He might just float away, blissed out and ruined for any one else, all thanks to this possessive stranger who likely lives in Austin, who Buck may never see again. He whimpers at the thought and pushes it aside. No sense in worrying about tomorrow.
Buck reaches down and wraps his free hand around the man's cock. He moans and tosses his head back. He looks so good like this, flushed red, strong thighs bracketing Buck, rivets of sweat rolling down his skin, chasing his release at an unrelenting pace.
Buck plants his feet and angles his hips just so.
“Yeah, right there,” the man praises, moving both hands to Buck's pecs for balance as his back bows. “Gonna come.”
A few more strokes and he's spilling all over Buck's fist and belly, collapsing forward when his arms inevitably give out.
“Keep fucking me,” he instructs, threading his arms under Buck's neck and burying his face there. “Wanna feel you.”
It doesn’t take him long. Buck holds onto his waist as he fucks up into his lax, oversensitive body. The sounds slipping from his mouth are enough to send Buck right over the edge. He holds them close together as he comes, twitching deep inside.
The stranger hums happily as Buck melts into the mattress, repositioning himself when Buck’s cock starts to soften, reaching up to play with his curls.
“That’s a big jacuzzi tub,” the man mentions later. It’s unclear how much time has passed. His head is resting on Buck’s chest. Their legs are intertwined.
Buck has been far too content to move.
“Mhm,” Buck agrees, running his hand up and down his back. His voice is rough when he speaks. “Wanna test it out?”
He tilts his head up. Buck tucks his chin so they can meet each other’s eyes.
“You want me to stay?” he asks.
“Definitely,” Buck assures, but a complicated look passes over the man’s face. It makes Buck second guess himself. “Only if you want. I’m kinda hungry, too. I could order us some room service.”
He stares at Buck for a bit. His brows furrow in thought.
“Buck,” he finally says.
Buck blinks. He has to recalibrate for the second time tonight. He sighs into a smile, hugging them closer together. “Yeah, Eddie?”
“That was pretty risky, flirting with that woman.”
“I didn’t plan for it. You seemed to like it, though.”
“Did I?” Eddie challenges.
“Well, we’ve never fucked quite like that before.”
Eddie narrows his eyes. “We’ve fucked each other plenty of ways.”
Buck snorts. “I know. But…” he hesitates, frowning at Eddie. “It was okay, right? I know it was different than usual. I just thought—”
A smile cracks across Eddie’s face. “It was really hot.” He shifts up and kisses Buck. “I liked seeing her flirt with you knowing you were ending the night with me.”
“Okay,” Buck beams. “Noted.”
Maybe they'll have to start adding that into their roleplay repertoire from time to time. Maybe Buck can go flirt with a woman in front of her douchebag boyfriend, piss him off, and Eddie will have to jump in then.
He smiles into another kiss before Eddie settles back onto his chest.
“Those gym bros were perfect, too. Good job choosing tonight.”
“God, I hated them,” Buck sighs.
“You're telling me. I was ready to fight them without you.”
“Yeah, I know.” Buck could tell Eddie was getting antsy. Especially after Bree interrupted the drink Buck was supposed to send him.
“Your backstories are getting more and more long-winded and intricate,” Eddie muses, playing with Buck’s stomach hair.
“Hey!” Buck grabs Eddie’s ass and squeezes, defensive. “I need to establish my motivations!”
“I know! I like it!” Eddie squirms and laughs, rolling more on top of Buck to escape his grabby hand, folding his arms over Buck’s chest, and resting his chin there. They share a soft smile before moving on. “You're fun to watch like that.”
“You are, too,” Buck says, thinking back on the night. He groans. “The way you swooped in there…”
Eddie chuckles.
“...you lifted him up like he was nothing!”
“He shoved you! You know how much I hate that.”
And yet, they keep doing this.
“Yeah. I know,” Buck grins. “Okay, come on, let me up.” He pats Eddie’s ass. “That jacuzzi isn't gonna fill itself.”
“No.” Eddie kisses him again. “Stay where you are and take care of the room service.”
“Kay.”
Eddie slips out of bed, walks naked to the tub and bends over. Buck watches with his arms folded under his head.
As the tub starts to fill, Eddie meets Buck's eyes in the mirror while he squeezes the bubble bath into the water. He raises his eyebrows.
“Buck.”
“Yeees?” Buck simpers back at Eddie’s scolding tone.
“The room service?” He flicks his eyes to the phone.
“What, I’m not allowed to ogle my husband’s perfect ass all of a sudden?”
A bashful little smirk spreads on Eddie’s lips, betraying the annoyed front he’s trying to play at.
He even arches his back a little, the fucker.
Buck scrambles off of the bed with flailing limbs, ignoring the pain in his side—definitely a bruised rib, but he'll live—as he falls to his knees behind Eddie, burying his face in his ass.
He manages to get Eddie to come a second time before the jacuzzi even has a chance to fill halfway.