whatdoyoudeduce
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“Is that what you’ve been up to while I've been gone?”
There’s no judgement, just curiosity in his voice. But for some reason Buck still finds himself saying: “No. Just a movie I was watching. Had me thinking about Buck 1.0.”
He doesn't know why he lied. But he doesn’t know how to say, ‘I exchanged blowjobs with a stranger forty-five minutes ago’, and have it not matter. Have it not change the tone of the conversation. He doesn’t want to put it into words that that’s what he did and then right after he called Eddie. It feels like something he shouldn’t admit to.
*
Eddie leaves for Texas. Buck moves in, but not on.- Language:
- English
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Bookmarked by whatdoyoudeduce
25 Jun 2026
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Eddie huffs. It’s respectable and masculine, probably. “You know I’m not interested in—”
“Yes, Eddie, I know,” Buck drolls. “You’re off the horse. The meat market is closed. Your dick is on Do Not Disturb. I just think the pot shouldn’t be calling the kettle out,” he gestures between them with an emphatic finger, “for bad dates. Not when the pot is, ostensibly, a born-again virgin.”
“I’m not a born-again virgin,” Eddie grumbles. “Don’t start this again.”
“I’m not starting anything,” Buck lies. “I’m watching the movie.” Another lie. Then he flops unceremoniously back down, head strewn across Eddie’s clenched thighs.
Or: Buck’s mouth moves faster than Eddie’s brain.
- Language:
- English
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- 19,339
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Bookmarked by whatdoyoudeduce
21 Jun 2026
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Buck presses his forehead against Eddie's, and Eddie braces his other hand on Buck's hip, hanging off him and grinding this intoxicating rhythm over him, panting as Buck watches rivulets of sweat trace his cheekbone and cling to the line of his jaw. He wants to taste them, wants to suck at them until Eddie whines beneath his teeth.
This is what they meant. This is the rhythm. His rhythm. Eddie is his rhythm, and he'll always find it, always find him.
"See?" Eddie says, eyes like fireworks on Buck's. "You're not so bad."
Buck pants against Eddie's mouth, so close - so, so close he could take it. He could catch those bright, pink lips beneath his, and Eddie would let him, because he's holding his ass, and their hard against each other, and...
"Yeah," he breathes, slipping closer to his mouth. "You're amazing."
Eddie's mouth quivers, and Buck can't hold himself back. He needs to kiss him. He needs to taste him, his sweat, his skin, his tongue.
"Whoa," Ravi's voice shoots between them like a bullet, but Buck holds on, a little feebly, when Eddie draws back. "That’s kinda..."
_
Ravi takes the one-eighteen out for a night, and Buck finds out Eddie knows how to dance.
Bookmarked by whatdoyoudeduce
02 Jun 2026
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Like tonight, he’s cross-legged on said couch with a bowl of spaghetti in his lap, a fork twirling to scoop some of it up. He’s barely paying attention to what Eddie’s putting on—they’ve been watching The British Bake-Off like they do this time of year every year.
Eddie is already settled beside him, his dinner perched precariously on his knee.
“I’ve got a date this Friday,” Eddie says, beer in one hand and TV remote in the other. He says it like it’s casual, like it’s nothing. It almost could be, if he didn’t immediately follow it with—“He’s taking me to the game.”
Buck’s pretty sure the entire world comes to a halt. His brain certainly does.
His fork pauses mid-twist, the soft aromatic smell of tomato, parmesan and pasta falling on numbed senses.
OR
Kinktober day five: Masturbation
Series
- Part 5 of Kryptonian Fictober 2025
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- English
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Bookmarked by whatdoyoudeduce
31 May 2026
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“You’re cheating,” Buck accuses.
“I’m winning,” Eddie pants, looking far too smug.
“I’m—” Buck tries to tug his arms free from Eddie’s hold to no avail. How is Eddie so damn strong? “I’m letting you.”
“You’re letting me pin you down? Do you like getting your ass handed to you, Buck?”
Heat floods Buck’s gut. He does like getting his ass handed to him. Or—no, well… he likes being pinned, or thrown against walls, or–or floors. But that’s different. That’s a sex thing. This is definitely not a sex thing. This is a bro thing. They’re bro-wrestling. Bro-housing. This is the most platonic thing Buck’s done in his entire life. He doesn’t know why he’s sweating.
Channelling his inner carpet python, he gives a determined wriggle, but Eddie’s hands tighten around his wrists. The feeling sends a shock through Buck’s spinal column.
Oh no.
Eddie, breathless and beautiful above him, repeats, “Say uncle.”
Breath stuttering out of him, Buck freezes.
Use your head, Buck thinks. His dick twitches. Then, panicked, the big one.
Or: Buck and Eddie wrestle over the remote. They forget the remote.
Series
- Part 16 of ejo + 911
Bookmarked by whatdoyoudeduce
08 May 2026