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Buck is drunk.
He knows that getting drunk by himself is probably not the best coping mechanism he’s ever had. He’s well aware, and normally , he wouldn’t - except for the fact that he wanted to go out after a crazy shift, and everybody was busy. He didn’t blame Chim or Hen, they had families to get home to and spend time with. Normally, he wouldn’t blame Eddie either, but his best friend didn’t turn him down because he didn’t want to spend time with Chris, or even with Marisol.
No, Eddie turned him down to hang out with fucking Tommy instead.
Tommy, Tommy, Tommy, that’s all Eddie and Chris seem to be able to talk about anymore. Flights to Vegas and ringside at fights and trivia nights and hanging out at Diaz house and and and-
Buck is so fucking sick of hearing about Tommy.
He’s sick of sharing his best friend’s time, sick of feeling like he has to fight for Eddie’s attention when he’s never really had to do that before. Through all their miscellaneous girlfriend’s, their friendship has never taken a hit, but now, this fucking guy comes in and is encroaching on his Eddie?
He can kind of understand it, in some way. Buck thought Tommy was pretty cool at first too - calm and confident as he flew them into an actual hurricane to save Bobby and Athena without permission, he went so far as putting off the Chief when he called to question what they were doing.
He stuck his neck out for some of the people that Buck loves the most, so of course, Buck wanted to get to know him more. At least, until it became clear that Tommy wanted all of Eddie’s attention on him instead, and suffice to say, Buck is not a fan.
So, he went out by himself to one of his favorite bars and did a few too many shots as he played pool with a couple other guys that were already out, and then Uber'd home.
He’s off work tomorrow, which means he has plenty of time to nurse the hangover he’s inevitably going to have in the morning - because he’s not 24 anymore - and get his Jeep back before his next shift.
He grabs a beer on his way to the couch after getting home from the bar, nursing it in the hopes to keep his buzz going for a while longer as he scrolls through TikTok, seeing videos of cucumber recipes and animal compilation videos as well as some random political videos sprinkled throughout.
He stumbles upon an ad for something and nearly spills his beer with how quickly he jolts up as inspiration strikes.
It’s perfect!!!
No way Eddie will be able to ignore him with these.
He inputs his card information from memory and grins when he gets the email that his order is accepted and being processed.
He finishes his drink, cleans up, brushes his teeth and climbs into bed, but the smile never leaves his face, and the warm, pleased, almost smug feeling in his chest never fades either, even though the memory of what he’s done gets lost almost immediately beneath the haze of booze.
–
A couple weeks go by, and then Tommy kisses him in his kitchen, and he realizes that oh, all of these feelings he had about Tommy in the beginning was because he was attracted to him, that’s why he wanted to learn more about him; why he called him for a tour of the Harbor station and why he suggested they get a drink.
They go on a date and he feels like an idiot when he goes on about being an ally and then again when he freaks out when Eddie shows up, and he can’t deny the squiggly, sick feeling in his gut when Tommy makes a pointed joke about closet space to Eddie and Marisol, a pointed look at him across the table that lets him know, without a doubt, that he messed up.
He kind of wants to cry about it, shame burning hot and angry beneath his skin, and even more so when Tommy decides after that debacle that he isn't worth the effort of finishing the date. Not even that, but Buck isn't even worth the effort of telling him that he's not feeling it anymore.
He talks to Maddie about why he feels so upset; not so much about the date, but the fact that he lied to Eddie. They’re best friends, he’s 99% sure Eddie wouldn’t be weird about him liking men too, but still. There’s a teeny tiny part of him that’s so used to being left, used to people walking out on him the second he gets to be too much, that’s telling him not to rock the boat, not to upset the status quo.
He’s trying to be better though, trying to trust his family that have proven over and over again that they won’t stop loving him, and nobody has proven that more than Eddie has.
So, he takes a deep breath, and admits, “It was a date” when Eddie makes a crack about “hanging with the boys” instead of dating.
Buck can tell he’s surprised by his declaration, though his immediate question is about Tommy, which is kind of confusing, but he doesn’t pay it too much mind.
Nor does he pay any attention to the way his heart seems to drop to his stomach when Eddie looks him in the eyes and promises him that nothing will change.
That’s a good thing! He shouldn’t want anything to change, right? It should be exactly what he wants to hear, that his newly discovered queerness isn’t going to suddenly ruin the most important friendship in his life.
He ignores the discomfort when Eddie tells him to call Tommy for a redo date, but revels in the hug Eddie gives him before he leaves, hand resting atop his shoulder, thumb fitting perfectly in the divot of his collarbone. Eddie does that every so often and it never fails to leave him settled and grounded in his skin again.
When Eddie walks out the door to head home and deal with Marisol, he tries to figure out why he feels so…
Disappointed, maybe? By how that conversation went. It was perfect - supportive and caring, reassuring in the way that Eddie always is, but for whatever reason, he still doesn’t feel right.
There’s a rustling outside his door that’s followed by a knock, and he can’t deny the spike of relief at the realization that Eddie came back.
He doesn’t understand why that’s the prevalent emotion he’s feeling, but he can’t ignore the way his chest loosens a little as he goes to open the door again, ready to tease his best friend for forgetting something.
Except, when he opens the door, Eddie isn’t there.
Nobody is, actually, and the only proof that anybody ever was, is a white, plastic package sitting on his welcome mat with his name and address on it.
He furrows his brows as he bends down and picks it up, not remembering ordering anything recently, and there’s no decorations or company name on the plastic to clue him in as to where this came from or what could be hidden beneath the cheap wrapping.
He rips it open and pulls out three more smaller, clear plastic bags and tosses two of them out onto the counter of the island and curiously tears into the third, still confused by the bold color and fabric of the contents in the see-through plastic.
That is, until he pulls it out and lays it out on the counter.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh, shit.
–
So, long story short, he doesn’t call Tommy.
Not when it finally clicked that all that time he spent chasing attention at the gym and the basketball game, it wasn’t actually Tommy’s that he wanted.
Of course, it all feels obvious looking back on it now. He was literally talking about getting Eddie’s attention to Maddie, hell, even to Tommy. He was jealous of Tommy the whole time because he wasn’t used to not having Eddie’s attention on him, and it made him act like a fucking idiot.
Hell, even Tommy himself doubted it when Buck had said he wanted his attention. He’s not entirely sure why Tommy even kissed him after the stupid little switcheroo his brain did mid-conversation, but he’s having a hard enough time understanding his own feelings, he really doesn’t need to add anybody else’s to his plate right now.
So, he doesn’t call Tommy for another chance, and he doesn’t tell anybody about these new and incredibly confusing feelings for Eddie.
Well, the feelings themselves aren’t all that confusing. He wants Eddie; in any and every way possible to want a person, Buck wants him. It’s that easy, and somehow, still complicated. To be honest, the shift in his feelings for his friend are more complex than discovering his sexuality was.
Has he always felt this way about Eddie? If not, when did it change? How the hell is he supposed to be normal around his best friend now that he knows he wants to hold him and wipe the hair off his forehead tenderly and kiss him and see how hard he can make him blush, how red his face can get, if he can give him even some of the pleasure that he rightfully deserves?
So yeah, there’s some confusion when it comes to his feelings for Eddie, and if he can continue to act normal now that he’s fully aware of his feelings for the first time.
He thinks he does alright, for the most part. He’d be lying if he said that he never lets his gaze linger a little longer than he would before, or that he doesn’t press in a little harder into each of Eddie’s touches - whether it’s a hand on his shoulder or an arm pressed against his in the engine.
He takes every shred of Eddie that he can get and tucks them up away safe to be pulled out and treasured at a later date.
He tries to act normal when he hangs out at the Diaz house with Eddie and Chris, though he does cut down on his time a little bit, which he’s pretty sure Marisol is grateful for. Not that he’s talked to her, of course.
Realizing that you’re in love with your best friend means it’s more than a little painful to be around said best friend’s seemingly wonderful girlfriend.
Although, as much as he hates it, it is nice to finally put a name to the snappish, hot feeling that roils beneath his skin when Eddie mentions his girlfriends. He doesn’t like being jealous of his best friend’s relationships, exactly, but at least now, he understands his own feelings, and that is nice.
In addition, he wears his newest wardrobe additions. Never out, never around people, only in the safety of his own apartment and his own company. It doesn’t actually really do anything to help with his feelings, since “getting over Eddie” isn’t really an option, and he’s already accepted them.
He doesn’t really plan on doing anything with them, doesn’t plan on making it Eddie’s problem, but especially not when he has a girlfriend that he really seems to be trying to make it work with - almost-nun past aside.
He’s doing that now, enjoying the feeling of the material against his skin and relaxing during his day off, poking around his cabinets for something to eat when his door handle jiggles, somebody with a key unlocking and pushing it open.
He turns and finds himself facing the man haunting his thoughts, a guilty kind of smile on his face. “Hey, Buck.”
Buck's heart skips a beat even as his soul settles peacefully at the sight of Eddie’s swoopy hair and warm eyes. “Hey. I didn’t forget about plans or anything, did I?” He clarifies, knowing full well that he didn’t.
“Uh, no. No, nothing like that. I just-” He pauses, lips pursing to the side as if in thought. “Well, Marisol and I broke up. We- you know, we were both trying, and it just wasn’t working, so we decided to call it quits.” He admits, but his eyes don’t meet Buck’s, like he’s hiding something.
That would normally concern Buck, if he wasn’t struggling so hard to keep his own relief off of his face to not show Eddie. He walks to the fridge and pulls out a beer, using the fridge door to hide as he gets himself back under control. “Oh, man. I’m sorry, I know you and Chris really liked her.”
Eddie makes a noncommittal noise and shrugs as he grabs the beer from Buck’s outstretched hand, taking a deep swig from the bottle.
Buck very determinately does not watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. He sharply looks away and stares at the top of the front door, very normally, thank you very much.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks once the coast is clear and Eddie’s resting against the island, beer hanging loosely from his long, dexterous fingers.
“No.” The answer is quick and sharp and accompanied with what’s probably a self-deprecating snort.
Buck nods, feeling more relieved than he should be. He wants Eddie to be able to come to him with anything he’s feeling, to be able to lean on him if he needs to work anything out, but hearing about how Eddie was struggling with the sexual aspect with Marisol after finding about the nun training was hard enough - he still rolls his eyes at himself when he thinks about telling Eddie he wished he could help when he was worked up and how he still hadn’t realized he wanted Eddie then - but to hear more in depth about the relationship might be more than he could handle while also remaining in control of his face.
Despite cleaning up at the game a while ago, he has absolutely no poker face, and Eddie knows him well enough that he’d see right through him if he tried.
So, he goes for distraction instead.
“Well, I was looking for something to eat, you hungry?” He asks, grinning when Eddie nods and turns to go back to his hunt through his cupboards.
He knows he has food; he went grocery shopping when he realized he hadn’t been in a while because he was spending so much time at Eddie’s, but he can’t seem to find enough ingredients for any kind of cohesive meal.
Spying a promising looking box in the back of a high shelf, he reaches up above his head, shirt riding up to expose the small of his back.
A choked, sputtering noise from behind draws his attention over his shoulders to where Eddie is staring wide-eyed at him…
Oh no.
“Shit. Eddie, I-” He stutters, squeezing his eyes shut and praying that the ground could open up beneath him please. Eddie was never supposed to see this, it was never supposed to be a thing.
“Buck, why- why is my na- Is that my-?” The shock in the question is enough that Buck would have been able to piece together what Eddie had seen if he hadn’t already.
Not to be dramatic or anything, but where’s a stray lightning bolt when he actually needs it?
There’s a wall of heat at his back and he jumps as a hand ghosts along the hem of his shirt, fingers dragging lightly against his skin as it’s pulled up again to expose his lower back, and he can’t stifle the shiver that rolls up his spine at the touch.
“Buck. Why are you wearing a red lacy thong that say my name?”
He hangs his head in shame, squeezing his eyes even tighter, as if he can simply wish himself away from this situation if he tries hard enough.
Unfortunately, magical teleportation is not real, so he has to actually deal with the situation at hand, despite the fact that he would genuinely rather do anything else. Which is bullshit and something he will be complaining to the Universe about. He doesn’t know where to file a complaint like that, but you can bet he's going to look into it.
Maybe he can still salvage it though, and not lose his best friend because his drunk ass decided to leap and sprint across an unspoken boundary of platonic friendship.
“How do you know it’s your name?” He replies, cursing the breathless quality of his voice. The fact that he’s still standing is kind of a miracle though - what with Eddie close enough that he can practically feel his breath - so he’ll take what he can get.
“You don’t know another Eddie.” He points out immediately, and Buck huffs, arguing back like a brat, “I could.”
“Which means you don’t.”
“Eddie.”
“Buck.”
The no-nonsense, stern tone of Eddie’s voice has him snapping his jaw shut from where he’d been prepared to argue, and even lie his way out of this. He knows that tone, and he knows he’s been caught.
He’s not sure why he ever thought he could lie to Eddie in the first place, to be honest. He hasn’t ever successfully done it. That’s not how their friendship works, their entire relationship is built upon the fact that they let each other in in ways that they can’t with anybody else.
“You don’t know any other Eddie, which means that this,” He emphasizes with a slow swipe of his finger against the top band of the panties, right above the letters of his name. Buck unconsciously sways backwards into the touch before he catches himself, holding onto the edge of the counter tighter. “Is my name. So, again, why are you wearing lace panties that say my name?”
“I was drunk.” He begrudgingly confesses, not knowing what he was going to say before opening his mouth, but then mentally shrugs. That’s as good a place as any to start. They’ve all done stupid shit when they’ve been drinking, this is just a dumb story that they’ll eventually laugh at. He hopes. “I invited everyone out to drinks, but you turned me down to hang out with Tommy, but I went anyway, and I had a few more drinks than I probably should have and then I came home and saw these online, and- and I don’t know, thought they’d be a good idea.”
Eddie hums thoughtfully. “A good idea for what?”
Buck swallows the whine building in his throat when a thumb brushes back and forth rhythmically against his side. “For- I don’t know. I was- I wanted your attention. I’d never really not had it before, but then Tommy came along and then he was your new best friend that enjoyed all the same things that you did and- I guess I just wanted you back.” He shrugs, feeling like an idiot for that explanation, even if that’s the only logical reasoning he’s been able to parse out since they’d been delivered.
“You wanted my attention, but you went out on a date with Tommy.” It’s not quite a question, but Buck understands the bid for clarification that it is.
“Yeah, well, I never claimed to be smart. Tommy kissed me and I assumed that’s what I was missing, but then these were delivered after you left the night that I came out to you, and it was pretty fucking easy to tell whose attention I was actually after.”
Eddie chuckles, and Buck trembles at the blast of warm air that floats against the back of his neck, the skin all over his body prickling with goosebumps.
God, if Eddie doesn’t step back soon and give him a break, he’s going to actually collapse with the way his body is starting to shake.
“Well, that explains why you bought them, but not why you’re wearing them. You’re not drunk now, are you?” Eddie asks knowingly, and Buck can’t swallow the whine the time, even as he clamps his teeth together when Eddie steps closer, only slivers of space left between their bodies. It’s completely overwhelming, and Buck’s not sure how much more he can handle before he does something rash.
“ Eddie. ” He pouts, locking his knees and elbows in a useless effort to try and stop the way his body wants to lean back into the warmth and touch of the body behind him, fingers still pressed against his skin and searing through the top layer like a brand.
“You wanted my attention, Buck. You’ve got it. How exactly did you see this playing out, once I saw you in these?” He wonders, a little cruelly, and something about it is stoking the pit of need in Buck’s stomach.
“I don’t know!” His voice is a little louder than normal, but Eddie doesn’t step back, and the tension surrounding them doesn’t break. It just gets heavier and heavier until Buck feels like his skin is being stretched too tightly across his bones and there’s fire in his lungs. “I don’t know, Eddie, I didn’t think that far ahead the night I ordered them, and I didn’t ever plan on you seeing them because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so I don’t know.”
“I think you wanted me to see them.” Eddie argues, his voice a low rumble in his chest that Buck can practically feel the vibrations of against his back.
“Wh-? No, I-” His refusal is cut off by a gasp when Eddie’s hands clamp down on his sides and tug him back against his chest, eliminating any space that had lingered between their bodies before they lightly, lazily, slip up his shirt and dance across the skin of his sides and stomach.
“I wasn’t paying enough attention to you, so you bought these pretty little panties with my name on them in an effort to remind us both that you’re mine; because you are, aren’t you?”
The words are growled against his ear, hot and low, and all Buck can do is nod, resting his head back against Eddie’s shoulder and clinging onto his arms to try and keep himself upright, even as he lets Eddie take his weight. He is Eddie’s. Part of him always has been, and even if it’s not exactly the way he’s discovered recently that he wants, he always will be Eddie’s, in some way.
“Ask me why I broke up with Marisol.”
The request snaps Buck out of his stupefied, touch-drunk haze enough for him to stand and turn in Eddie’s arms, hands coming to rest on his shoulders, while one of Eddie’s palms the cheap gems of his name. “Why did you break up with Marisol?” He asks obediently, his voice thick and rough as he searches Eddie’s heated whiskey eyes for the answer.
They crinkle at the sides when he smiles indulgently, leaning forward to brush his nose against Buck’s. “Well, I fell in love with my best friend a few years ago, but we both had girlfriends at the time, and nothing could happen, so I repressed it, content with what we had. I refused to let myself think about until he came out to me a few weeks ago and admitted that he’d been on a date with a man who was similar to me in so many ways, and I knew that I couldn’t keep stringing Marisol along, not when I kept thinking about you, and I was always hoping that just maybe, you were thinking about me, too.”
Buck barely lets him finish - which he thinks he should get a trophy or a gold sticker for, if anybody even cares - before he’s practically lunging forward, pressing his lips hard against Eddie’s, who doesn’t hesitate before meeting him in a kiss that’s messy and probably awful, technically speaking, and so fucking perfect that it melts what little brain Buck has left. He’s just a body now, nothing more than a vessel of overwhelming love and need and desire and adoration for Eddie Diaz.
Eddie's lips are soft, and he tastes better than Buck ever thought possible, and he’s 99% sure he’s leaving indents from his nails in the skin of Eddie’s shoulders, but he doesn’t seem to mind, so Buck can’t make himself care either.
“I wasn’t paying my baby enough attention, was I? You had to remind me where I belonged, huh?” Eddie croons against his lips, and Buck nods, feeling like he’s about to shake apart at the seams from the words and kiss and the hands on him and everything that’s so overwhelmingly Eddie.
“Alright baby, you’ve got it, you’ve got me. What next?” Eddie asks, and Buck - hesitating for only a second - pushes against Eddie’s shoulders lightly, not away, but leading him away from the kitchen and towards the stairs.
Eddie grins against his mouth and matches him step for step as they make their way up the steps to his bedroom.
Fingertips scrape against his side again, and he lifts his arms to let Eddie strip the shirt over his head, separating their lips only for long enough to remove both of their shirts and toss them somewhere in the room.
Their pants are next, unclasping buttons and nudging down zippers until they can peel off the cloth and fall into the bed, limbs tangling as they land on their sides.
Buck reaches for the panties, but Eddie stops him. “Leave them on.”
He smirks, raising an eyebrow in amusement. “I should’ve known you’d be this possessive.”
Hot brown eyes roll in answer. “Yeah, and you love it. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be wearing my name like a brand.” He accuses, and Buck quirks his lip and shrugs, because he has no argument for that, and instead presses against Eddie’s shoulder to lay flat on the bed, grabbing at the hem of his boxers and slowly pulling them down, baring Eddie to the cool air of the room and Buck’s hot, greedy gaze.
He pulls away, entranced by the thick, bobbing cock, his body shaking in fevered anticipation of having that inside him very soon.
First though, he wants it in his mouth.
He trails his lips down Eddie’s chest, kissing and sucking at the pretty brown nipples and the well-defined abdomen muscles, drunk on the way they tremble and jump beneath his touch. He laves his tongue against the vee of Eddie’s groin, groaning when fingers clench in his hair, and the sharp pleasure-pain and the smirk in Eddie’s eyes when he meets them with his own.
He looks far too pleased for Buck’s liking - despite how incredibly hot the expression looks on his face - so he sets about to try and make him feel just as unsteady and needy as Buck does, and he does that by digging his tongue into the slit at the head of his cock, moaning happily at the taste of pure, unfettered Eddie on his tongue, before closing his mouth around the head and suckling it into his mouth, rubbing his tongue along the thick vein. He’s never done this before - not on a real person, obviously - but he dedicates himself to learning every trick in the book and finding out everything that Eddie likes.
The responding groan is cut-off when Eddie bites his lip and tilts his head back makes Buck feel pretty damn good about his beginner skills, but then he notices that Eddie’s eyes have drifted closed, and Buck doesn’t like that.
So, he pinches at Eddie’s inner thigh, staring intently when he gasps and his eyes fly open, locking onto Buck’s again. He doesn’t say anything, can’t make himself pull off when the weight of Eddie in his mouth is something he’d been craving for so long, but he does narrow his eyes pointedly.
“Oh, you need me to watch you, huh? Need me to see how well you suck my cock, how pretty your mouth looks around me?” Eddie mocks, and Buck groans, his eyes fluttering shut as he nods in agreement. He needs Eddie to look at him, needs to see and feel those familiar eyes on him while he does this, needs to be connected in as many ways as possible.
Eddie continues to shower him with praise, running his hands through Buck’s hair and fingers down his face, thumb resting on the corner of his mouth where it’s stretched around Eddie’s cock as he devotes himself to drawing out all those delicious noises from Eddie’s throat.
“Fuck, you’re too good at this, stop stop stop.” He pants after a few short minutes, grabbing at his shoulders and pulling him up, cupping his cheeks and drawing him into an open-mouthed, sloppy kiss where they trade Eddie’s taste back and forth.
It’s one of Buck’s favorite things to do after oral, no matter whether he’s giving or receiving; he loves tasting himself on his partner’s tongue. He knows it’s not everyone’s thing, but given how deep Eddie’s tongue is in his mouth - like he’s seeking out every drop - he’s pretty sure Eddie’s alright with it.
“Do you have lube?” Eddie checks, only pulling away a few inches to ask the question before he dives back in again, and Buck barely finds the brain power to nod in the affirmative, reaching out blindly in search of the bottle of lube that sits on his nightstand and then pressing it into Eddie’s chest, who takes it assuredly and pops the cap, still sliding his tongue against Buck’s.
He hasn’t figured out how Eddie’s going to do all of this with his lingerie still on, but he’s more than happy to come along for the ride.
Fingers tap his hip as Eddie pulls away. “Here, c’mon, flip over onto your knees for me, baby.” He instructs, and Buck scrambles to follow orders, resting his weight on his knees and forearms, looking back over his shoulder.
Eddie looks transfixed where his eyes are glued to where his name is written clearly across Buck’s back. His hand lifts slowly to trace across them reverently, leaning forward then to press his lips against the skin above the hemline, licking and nibbling across his back and down his cheek, eyes rising to meet Buck’s and sticking until it feels like the world ceases to exist outside this bedroom.
His breath is frozen in his lungs, the adoration and worship in Eddie’s gaze is addicting and devastating in the way it seems to pierce through Buck, the way he sees him all the way down to his soul.
A groan shakes from his chest when Eddie bites and sucks a mark into the skin of his lower back, a smug look on his face when he pulls back and admires his handy work.
“Eddie, come on. Stop teasing.” Buck complains through heavy breaths, prodding at Eddie’s leg with his foot. Since realizing he was in love with his best friend, Buck has gone on a rampant quest for knowledge about the joys of anal sex and the prostate. He's explored by himself, of course, but the fact that Eddie is so close to touching him in that way is leaving him dizzy and breathless. He knows how good it feels, but he's so completely sure it's going to be a hundred times better once Eddie stops fucking around. Everything is better with Eddie; that's just an undeniable fact of his life.
Eddie rolls his eyes indulgently and smiles. “First, you’re not getting enough attention, and now it’s too much. Would you make up your mind?” He teases, leaning over Buck’s back and capturing his lips in another kiss before he can retort, not that he had a good comeback ready anyway.
The angle his head is tilted at to return the kiss is kind of awkward, but when Eddie grinds against his ass, hot and heavy and thick, while plundering his mouth, he can’t bring himself to care all that much.
When Eddie does pull away, Buck is sucking in huge gulps of air to try and ease the screaming in his lungs because of the oxygen deprivation, because he still needs to breathe, can’t survive off of just Eddie, apparently. Which, again, is bullshit, in his opinion, but whatever.
Eddie wraps his finger around the panties and carefully pulls them to the side, leaving his hole, as well as the letters, on full display.
He shivers when cold lube is squeezed onto his skin, and again when a hot finger rubs it around the puckered flesh, moaning blissfully when Eddie dips his finger in up to the first knuckle, drawing out and pressing in again until he’s loosened up enough to take the full digit, and Buck scrambles to think of anything else other than how good it feels. He was right, Eddie touching him feels like there's a livewire beneath his skin and he's about 2 seconds away from coming immediately and embarrassing himself like a teenage virgin.
Eddie finds the spot inside of him that makes sparklers shoot through his veins, and he can’t control the volume of his moans as they reverberate through the room, growing louder and more shameless when one finger becomes two, and then three, stretching him out and driving him out of his mind.
“Eds- Eddie, Eddie, please, come on.” He begs, rocking his hips into each thrust of fingers, but still wanting more, needing more.
“Okay. Okay, okay, okay.” Eddie pants, placing a kiss against his spine before pulling his fingers out, hushing Buck gently when a whine falls from his lips at the empty feeling leftover. “I’ve got you baby, I’m right here.” He promises, resting his lips against Buck’s back as he slicks himself up with lube and notches himself at Buck’s opening, slowly pressing in, giving Buck plenty of time to adjust and breath through the stretch.
“Oh my God, Eddie.” He cries once Eddie bottoms out inside him, leaving him stretched and full and consumed.
“Fuck, you feel so good.” Eddie grunts, resting his weight on his hands beside Buck’s body, forehead against his shoulder. “Jesus, fuck, baby.”
Buck moans, involuntary clenching down on Eddie, drawing obscene noises from both of them. Okay, so Eddie’s deep, gravelly sex voice does something for him, that really should not be surprising.
“Okay, move, please.” He begs, tilting his hips back further into Eddie’s space, moaning loudly when it drives him even further into Buck.
Eddie huffs a breath - not aggravated, but overwhelmed as he grabs onto Buck’s hips, pulling out before slowly pressing back in, repeating the motion a couple times until it’s less overwhelming and Buck is pressing back into every thrust, egging him on further.
Once he’s sure Buck is ready, he draws out and then snaps his hips forward, punching a moan from his chest at the pleasure.
Satisfied that he’s ready, Eddie settles more firmly onto his knees and then drives into Buck ceaselessly, brushing against his prostate with nearly every thrust.
Buck’s hands clench in the sheets, one lifting and grasping onto the headboard when Eddie’s thrusts start to drive him further up the bed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Eddie oh my god, oh my god.”
“Yeah? Is this what you wanted, mi amor? Huh, you wanted my attention on you, is that why you picked these slutty little panties?” He taunts, pulling the lace fabric harder against Buck’s skin, and Buck lets out a noise that sounds suspiciously like a sob, nodding fervently, ready to agree to anything Eddie says when they’re like this.
“That’s right, baby, you needed to remind me who you belonged to. That your mouth and your hole are all mine.”
Buck sobs again, squeezing his eyes shut. “Yes! Yes, yes, Eddie, yes.”
“Yeah, you are. That’s my baby; I love to see my name on your ass when you bounce on my cock. Fuck, you’re so goddamn perfect.” Eddie praises, resting his hands on Buck’s shoulders to hold him in place better to fuck him endlessly.
Buck feels like he’s going to cry, all of his senses taken over by Eddie; his scent and his touch and his cock and his taste that still lingers in Buck’s mouth, but not enough.
Buck grunts, using the headboard as leverage to press up onto his knees, and Eddie wraps his arms around Buck’s torso, holding him steady and tilting his head to meet Buck in an open-mouthed kiss. It’s uncoordinated and messy at best, but it’s exactly the connection he was needing, reaching behind him to hold onto Eddie’s thighs to keep them pressed together.
Buck moans, loud and long, when a hand wraps around his still-clothed cock, Eddie stroking him through the panties, the warring sensations driving him higher and higher.
“C’mon Buck, come on baby. You’re mine, and I want you to come for me. It’s mine, give it to me.” He demands in a whisper, his other hand rising to wrap tenderly around his throat. He doesn’t choke him or squeeze, just holds him in place and continues to drive mercilessly into him, stroking him through the lace in time with his thrusts, kissing along his skin and murmuring praise and encouragement until it gets to be too much, and he comes with a shout of Eddie’s name, painting the inside of the blood-red panties with his cum.
Eddie fucks Buck roughly through his orgasm and into Eddie’s own, riding the simultaneous highs of pleasure until their limbs are too weak with endorphins to hold them up any longer and they collapse onto the mattress, Eddie landing half on top of Buck and half beside him, slipping out of him on the way down.
It takes Buck a while for his brain to process anything except for dopamine and oxytocin and holy shit that’s the best sex of his life oh my god, but when he does, he chuckles tiredly into the pillow beneath his head, because he can feel Eddie tracing his skin, coming back to the letters of his name every so often.
“Me wearing your name is really doing it for you, huh?” He asks rhetorically, because it’s not really a question. He can still feel the effects of just how much Eddie enjoyed it, and that thought leaves him grinning smugly at the various aches and twinges in his body.
Eddie just hums and shrugs, unbothered, before he lays his head down on Buck’s upper back, his breaths floating against the skin there with each exhale.
“I have more. I bought three of them.” Buck admits slyly, feeling Eddie’s fingers dig into his skin in surprise. “One is a bright blue that says Diaz, and the other pair is green and says E. Diaz. I couldn’t decide which I liked more, I don’t think, so Drunk Buck decided that I should just get all three.”
Eddie hums, nuzzling into his skin. “Well, those will both also work for you soon enough.” He notes casually, and Buck freezes, his brain struggling to process the words thrown out so casually.
“Wh- what?”
Eddie raises his head and moves enough for Buck to turn and meet his eyes, though he doesn’t stop touching him, running his fingers up and down Buck’s spine instead. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I supposed to pretend that I don’t love you that much, that I have definitely never thought about marrying you before and making you a Diaz for real? I thought we were done pretending?” He challenges, and the smile that breaks out across Buck’s face has his cheeks aching as he practically tackles Eddie back onto the bed, tasting the joy that breaks free as laughter as Eddie’s hands come up to frame his face, holding him still as he returns the kiss with just as much love and enthusiasm as Buck started it with.
“We are done pretending, and yes, I do want to marry you, Eddie Diaz.” Buck murmurs softly when he pulls away after a long moment, finger tracing Eddie’s bottom lip, feeling the smile grow beneath the pad of his fingertip.
“Good, ‘cause I want to marry you, too.” He returns softly, a look in his eyes so adoring and bare that Buck’s not sure how he ever doubted Eddie’s love for him.
“Good. But not yet. I want to propose.” Buck lifts his finger and pokes at Eddie’s nose resolutely, but his partner just grins.
“You’d better get a move on it if you want to beat me then, Buckley, cause I’m done waiting.” He warns with a teasing smirk before standing up off the bed, ass jiggling as he walks towards the bathroom.
“Hey, I-!” Buck tries to argue, but then the water cuts on, drowning him out.
Well, he definitely needs to clean up, the lace is starting to chafe uncomfortably, and he’s sticky and gross; a shower is just as good a place to discuss their future as any, he supposes, stripping the panties off and tossing them into the hamper.
He doesn’t really need them anymore, doesn’t have to settle for an unknown claim alone in the shadows when he’s got the real Eddie, who’s more than happy to leave his marks on Buck’s skin and remind them both where they belong.
Eddie smiles and reaches out for him when he steps into the shower behind him, and Buck’s more than happy to let himself melt into his hold, returning the slow, unhurried kiss that Eddie plants on him.
Then again, it would be a waste to get rid of them if this is the outcome it gets him, he reasons, sighing happily when Eddie starts lathering body wash on his skin, admiringly tracing the redness left from his stubble and the marks he left with his teeth, and all Buck can think of is how grateful he is that he got drunk and jealous one random Wednesday night.