Work Text:
Eddie wants to be off of these fucking pain meds already.
They’re doing what they’re supposed to be doing—relieving his pain—but they make him tired and sluggish, barely able to shuffle around and talk to Buck or his kid without having to go lay down again. It’s only been a week since he left the hospital, and he knew it was going to be a long road to recovery, but he wishes he could just fall asleep and wake up at the end of it already. He hates making other people do things for him or having to rely on others just to get through his day, a voice in his head saying he’s failing even though he knows it’s not true.
It also doesn’t help that Buck is basically living on his couch, torturing Eddie in more ways than one.
Buck has just helped Eddie into bed and Eddie is simultaneously seething and halfway hard, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. His nightly dose of the pain meds should be kicking in soon, but for now he stews in how helpless he feels. His arm is still tight in the sling while his shoulder heals enough to move the muscle, so no matter how he lays, he can’t get fully comfortable. Buck always says It’s not forever, Eddie whenever he gets particularly frustrated about it, and Eddie knows it won’t always be like this, but it doesn’t do anything to soothe the heavy feeling in his chest.
It also doesn’t do anything to stop Buck from having to touch him constantly, having to help him in and out of the shower, choosing over and over to dress him and change the bandages on his wound and cook him dinner and love his son. Buck fits into their family unit like he was a missing puzzle piece waiting to be found and snapped into place, and Eddie can’t let himself think about it too hard before he finds himself getting sappy.
He starts to drift off, and he steels himself for another night of the crazy dreams his medication has been causing, wondering what the hell his subconscious is going to put him through this time.
—
It starts with soft lips on his neck. A tongue, darting out to taste the skin before biting down and tugging, sucking the skin until Eddie is gasping as the mouth disappears. He can feel the weight of somebody hovering over him, their thighs caging him in, and his cock starts to fill out in his boxers from the closeness. He wiggles his hips on the bed, prickly heat running through his stomach and thighs, and he reaches out with his good hand to card his fingers through the person’s hair, surprised to find it short like his.
He doesn’t think anything of it right away, too busy groaning as their mouth latches around his nipple, nipping and licking at it until it’s red and wet. Eddie’s hand stays in their hair as they duck to kiss a trail down his torso, sucking kisses into his skin and dipping their tongue into his belly button. As if from one moment to the next, their mouth shifts from biting his stomach to sucking on his hole, and Eddie gasps in shock with how good it feels. Nobody’s ever done that to him—he’s barely even thought about it before—but the flat tongue lapping at his rim is making him see stars.
He’s figured out that whoever his partner is, it’s a man—which, okay, Eddie has known that particular fact about himself for a while now. A few years if he’s being gentle, but a whole lot longer than that if he’s being honest. This guy is broad and sturdy, his big hands wrapped around Eddie’s thighs as he eats him out, and Eddie feels floaty as he throws his head back on a moan.
He wants to see who the hell is taking him apart so thoroughly, wants to figure out who knows him well enough to go for the things he’s only thought about in the shadiest corners of his mind. The hair type is too wrong to be Buck, who would have been Eddie’s first guess, seeing as it’s not the first time he’s thought about Buck that way. But it’s not Buck, so Eddie tugs reluctantly on the guy’s hair to pull him up, looks down at the guy’s face—
And sees his own warm, brown eyes staring back at him.
“What—” Eddie groans as—as this other version of himself sucks right underneath his balls, and he has to be dreaming but it all feels so real. This other Eddie goes back to sucking and licking at his hole, and Eddie bites his bottom lip to hide a long groan, his dick pulsing and leaking onto his stomach. Because honestly, watching himself shove his face into his own ass like he’s starved for it, feeling his own tongue pushing past the ring of muscle, it’s…
It’s hot. It’s fucking hot.
“Fuck,” Eddie chokes out when suddenly two slick fingers are pushing inside of him, and oh god, his fingers feel so different from this angle. This he has actually done to himself before, fucked himself down on his own hand and ignored the way his wrist always cramps up so he could get one more sharp jab at his prostate, but at this angle, his fingers can go deeper. “Fuck, that feels good—”
“I know it does,” his own voice echoes back from between his legs, low and raspy and fuck, Eddie’s cock leaks out a drop of precome. “I’m you. I know exactly how to work your body, exactly how to make you come. You don’t need anyone else.”
Eddie whines, the glide of the fingers inside of him setting his entire body on fire, and he yells something unintelligible when he feels the other man work a third finger in. The Eddie between his legs sucks a mark into his thigh, fucking his fingers into Eddie fast and hard but refusing to hit his prostate. If this Eddie is anything like he is, he’ll want Eddie to come on his cock or not at all, and just the thought of having a dick inside of him makes Eddie’s spine turn to liquid. He wants it so fucking bad, was always too afraid to ask Shannon for it and hasn’t slept with anyone since, and when the fingers slide out of him and he feels the head of his own cock rubbing wet against his hole, Eddie shudders.
“Yeah, I know how badly you’ve been wanting this,” the other Eddie says, holding Eddie’s thighs open as he sits up on his knees. “You ready to take our thick cock?”
Eddie’s entire body trembles, his breath coming in sharp pants. “Fuck yes.”
Eddie relaxes his muscles as he feels hips start to push forward, the sticky head of his dick slipping inside and stretching him open. Eddie is pretty well-acquainted with his dick, knows how his hand barely fits around it and how flared the head is, but it feels so different when it’s—when it’s fucking him. It feels huge, and Eddie’s entire body starts to tremble as he whines and cries out for every inch that goes in. He feels so fucking full, so completed, and when hips are flush against his ass and he’s squirming on his own dick to get used to the feeling of it, it fully hits him what’s happening.
Even if it’s just a dream, he’s getting fucked.
“I’m—I’m ready,” Eddie pants, reaching his good arm down so he can cup his cock in his hand. It’s wet, wetter than he’s been in a long time, and maybe all those fantasies he has about tying Buck up and fucking the living daylights out of him need to go the other way around every once in a while. Because fuck, the other Eddie is just rocking into him, rolling thrusts that keep his dick deep inside and Eddie is losing it. There’s no pain at all, just the smooth slide of skin, and Eddie could definitely get addicted to this if he isn’t careful.
He’s about to ask for it faster, but he doesn’t get the chance because the thrusts speed up like the other man read his mind, and maybe he did; either way, Eddie is writhing and crying out in his bed, getting absolutely destroyed by his own dick. He starts fisting his cock, desperate for some kind of release after a month of nothing, a month of never getting any time to himself and not having the energy or mobility to even jerk off. It feels like lightning shooting through him the second he swipes his finger under the head, nudging it every few pumps as his hips get grabbed and angled up so the other Eddie can fuck his prostate.
“Fucking take it,” the other Eddie growls, and for a second, Eddie swears his voice morphs into Buck’s before going back to his own. “Come on your own dick, Eddie.”
And he—fuck, he’s—yeah, oh god, ohgodohgodohgod fuck—
Eddie jolts awake on a choked scream, his hips bucking up into nothing as he empties himself into his boxers. His eyes roll into the back of his head as he pushes the heel of his palm into his dick, the fabric soaked from how much he’s coming and only getting worse until he’s jerking through the last of his orgasm, sensitivity keeping him from grinding against his hand. His thighs are shaking as he clenches down around nothing, the phantom feeling of a cock splitting him open still fresh in his mind.
He.. he needs it now, the craving stronger than it’s ever been before. He needs it for real this time.
Eddie collapses back onto the pillow, his hand still resting over his softening cock and the light grey fabric clinging to it, darker in the spots where his come saturated the cotton. Eddie kind of wants to pull them off and suck on the cloth, sip his own come out of the boxers he ruined while having a dream about getting fucked, but he knows he would be ashamed of himself a little for it in the morning.
In hindsight though, after a scream like that, he should have expected Buck to come bursting into his room with a frantic look in his eyes.
“Eddie! Eddie, are you okay—oh.”
Eddie is blissed out and sleepy past the point of shame, openly staring Buck up and down in his t-shirt and thin sleep pants. And he’s gotten glimpses of Buck before, okay? He knows Buck is big. God, the things that dick could do to him, especially with Buck’s experience? With the reputation he built for himself that only gets proven over and over by the people he sleeps with? Yeah, Eddie doesn’t just want a piece of that; he wants the whole fucking seven-course meal.
“Um.” Buck shifts from foot to foot, and Eddie can’t see that well in the quiet dark, but he swears he sees something shift in the crotch of Buck’s sleep pants. “I’ll just—go. Yeah. I mean unless you need me for anything?”
Eddie drags his eyes back down Buck’s torso, his voice low and gravelly as he stares pointedly at what is definitely the outline of Buck’s cock. “Yeah.”
And Buck—Buck whines. Eddie’s eyesight is adjusting, the flush on Buck’s cheeks evident even in the middle of the night. “Eddie, your shoulder. You’re not cleared—”
“Then be gentle.” As much as Eddie wants Buck to fuck him fast and ruthless, he knows his body can’t take it. Not right now, at least. So he spreads his thighs open and smirks at the way Buck teeters forward, watches as Eddie rubs the flat of his palm over his cock and feels it start to twitch. “And shut the door.”
Buck does exactly as Eddie asks, and when they’re both sweaty and sated and drunk on love, Eddie forms the opinion that maybe some things are better when he doesn’t have to do them himself.