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Buck has always known he was a little bit pathetic when it came to Eddie.
Not in a “writes his name in hearts on notebook margins” kind of way. Though if Chris ever handed him one of those Lisa Frank pens with the multicolored ink and dared him, he wouldn’t not do it. But it was more in the way where the most mundane things Eddie did hit him like a freight train.
Case in point; it was a Tuesday afternoon, and Eddie was standing barefoot in the kitchen, brow furrowed slightly, reading off items from the fridge while jotting down their weekly grocery list. He wore soft, worn-in jeans, a plain gray t-shirt that stretched almost too nicely across his shoulders, and his hair was still damp from their morning shower. There was nothing remotely sexy about the moment. Buck was fully aware of that.
And yet.
“Eggs,” Eddie said, reaching into the fridge and frowning at the near-empty carton. “We’ve only got two left.”
Buck nodded like he had any stake in the grocery status of the house. Technically, it wasn’t even his house, just the one he never seemed to leave. They’d both screwed up the whole “moving in” thing before and so they hadn’t really talked about Buck moving in officially. So, he kept his lease across town and just… never really left the Diaz house.
Chris was at school, they both had the day off, and they’d been doing this whole cohabitating dance long enough that Tuesday grocery trips were basically a ritual now. “Add milk too,” Eddie murmured, scribbling it down.
“We’re almost out. Carrots. Chris wants to try that honey glaze recipe from Bobby. We’re low on coffee. And…” He glanced over his shoulder at Buck, unaware that Buck had gone very still at the sight of his forearms flexing as he leaned into the fridge. “What else?”
Buck licked his lips. He had no earthly reason for his body to react the way it was. His dick was half-hard already, just from watching Eddie squint into a fridge and say the word “carrots” with that raspy morning voice of his.
“Buck?”
“Uh,” Buck said, voice catching and brain blissfully blank. “Baking soda?”
Eddie tilted his head, slightly amused.
“And, uh… lube.”
The pen in Eddie’s hand paused mid-letter. He looked back again, blinking.
“Lube ,” he repeated, slowly. Not exactly a thing they usually put on the grocery list. Most times one of them just kept tabs on their supply and figured it out. But, Buck's brain (and dick) absolutely did not take that into consideration today.
Buck swallowed, trying to remain as neutral as possible. “In case we bake something… really slippery?”
Eddie stared at him a beat longer before breaking into a slow, crooked grin. “Jesus, Buck.”
He let his head fall back against the cabinet behind him. “I can’t help it, okay? You're all like–like—domestic. You and this grocery list. Your little frowny thinking face. The pen behind your ear. It’s too much.”
Eddie chuckled, stepping back and folding the paper in half. “We’ll get in and out. Should be under an hour.”
Buck groaned. “That’s not helping.”
—
By the time they made it to the store, Buck was already hanging on by a thread. He had told himself— promised himself — that he’d behave. It was a grocery run, not a porn shoot. But then Eddie had leaned over the cart to grab a tub of yogurt and Buck had seen the waistband of his briefs peek out above those damn jeans, and suddenly every neuron in his brain short-circuited.
“You okay?” Eddie asked, peering at Buck like he was maybe concussed.
“Fine,” Buck croaked. “Totally. Normal.”
They moved through produce, and Eddie had opinions on apples and debated for nearly 10 minutes on what kind of carrots to buy. He casually walked by the deli counter, asking to sample a new cheese, bending over to point in the case as if he wasn’t driving Buck further and further toward spontaneous combustion.
And the worst part? Eddie didn’t seem to be doing any of it on purpose. He was just… being Eddie. Organized, competent, kind. Chatting with the woman at the fish counter about the tilapia recipe Buck wanted to try. Offering to grab a loaf of bread for the older gentleman who couldn't reach. Handing a few grapes to a mom with a screaming toddler so she could finish her shopping in peace while her kid snacked. Tossing frozen peas into the cart like he didn’t have a man with him who was currently edging himself on public restraint.
Buck helped with the list as much as he could, but it didn’t go well. He was well beyond sexually frustrated. At one point he reached for a can of soup and knocked over four in the process.
Eddie glanced over and rolled his eyes. “Buck, do I need to put you on a leash?”
“Please,” Buck muttered under his breath. “I’m literally begging you.”
Eddie didn’t hear him. Probably for the best.
—
The second the front door clicked shut behind them, Buck was on his boyfriend. Eddie barely had time to set the bags down before Buck pressed into his space, all heat and breath and need, grabbing Eddie’s face and kissing him like he’d been starving for weeks, instead of just for the duration of grocery shopping.
Eddie made a surprised noise as he kissed back, hands curling against Buck’s waist.
“You gonna tell me what that was about?” he asked when Buck pulled back just long enough to breathe.
“You,” Buck said, panting. “You and your list and your groceries and your smug little practical husband routine. I’ve been hard for like two hours.”
Eddie blinked. Then grinned. “That’s what got you going?” He acted as if Buck hadn’t made a comment about his competency right before they’d left the house.
Buck shoved him gently against the kitchen counter and mouthed at his neck, groaning when Eddie’s hands slid under his shirt. “You were being all domestic, Eds. Like we’re this perfect little like family or something. You debating on which frozen pizza Chris would like better literally made me want to bend you over and fuck you against the cart.”
“Well,” Eddie murmured, pushing Buck’s shirt up and off, “we’re home now. No carts in sight.”
“Fuck me on the counter.”
Eddie just stared at him for a few moments, long enough that Buck was already halfway out of his jeans by the time Eddie swept an arm across the kitchen counter to clear it. Papers, pens, and a few grocery bags fell unceremoniously on the floor. Sacrifice for the greater good, was the only passing thought Buck gave it all.
“God, you’re insane,” Eddie murmured, laughing breathlessly as he kissed down Buck’s chest, hands grabbing at any and all bare skin he could find.
“You love it,” Buck gasped, hoisting himself onto the cool granite and spreading his legs easily.
Eddie stepped between them and kissed him, slow and possessive. “Yeah, I do.”
It didn’t take long for things to spiral from there. Buck was already worked up, aching and desperate, and the way Eddie handled him, like he knew how bad it had been, made it worse.
Or better.
Eddie pressed two fingers to his lips. “Lube?” Yeah, definitely better.
“Bag to the uh– fuck – uh–to the right.”
Eddie found it in seconds even without directions that made any clear sense. Because of course they were so in sync that Eddie would know exactly which bag a horny Buck had thrown that bottle of lube into at the self-check. “Guess that wasn’t just a hypothetical item on the list,” he murmured, slicking up his fingers.
Buck bit his lip, thighs twitching as Eddie leaned in and pressed a wet kiss to his thigh.
“I want you,” Buck whispered. “Want you to wreck me.”
Eddie didn’t need further invitation.
He leaned in, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the inside of Buck’s thighs, tongue dragging just barely against his skin. When he finally licked a long, deliberate stripe over him, Buck nearly slid off the counter with a ragged cry.
“Jesus—fuck— Eddie! ”
“That good, huh?” Eddie murmured with a smile, and dove back in.
He tongued Buck open until Buck was shaking, one hand gripping the edge of the counter like a lifeline while the other reached back to try and tangle in Eddie’s hair, hips rocking forward as he chased every flick of heat and pressure. Eddie didn’t stop until Buck was moaning his name, broken and desperate and fucked-out already.
When Eddie finally pushed in a finger all slick and slow like it usually was when Eddie had the control, Buck arched with a gasp, head falling against the cabinet behind them.
“One?” Eddie asked, breath warm against his thigh. “Or more?”
“More,” Buck said, almost delirious. “Just–I–more please–I–.”
Eddie gave him two, scissoring gently, twisting just right. He knew exactly where to press, how to curl his fingers to make Buck twitch, leaking onto his own stomach, a wreck just from the prep he not only needed but loved.
“You’re already shaking,” Eddie said, voice low and reverent. “You want me to fuck you just like this?” He was offering some sort of out or ability to switch positions. The ability for Buck to regain some sort of control, but only if he wanted to.
Buck nodded frantically. “Please. Need you inside me, Eds. Want it deep.”
Eddie slicked himself up quickly, stepping between Buck’s spread thighs again. Buck braced himself with his elbows, legs open wide on either side of Eddie’s hips, and groaned loudly as Eddie pushed in. It was slow at first, a careful stretch, until he bottomed out.
“ Fuuuuck,” Buck wasn't even sure if that was his own voice or not.
Eddie pressed his forehead into Buck’s shoulder, a hollow laugh punching out of him, showing how little self-control he really had left. “You feel incredible.”
Then he started to move.
It was a rhythm Buck often dreamed about. Slow at first, then picking up speed, deep and deliberate, the kind of fucking that made Buck forget his own name. The granite beneath him was cold but it barely registered compared to the heat of Eddie’s body, the way his hips snapped forward with each thrust, hitting that spot inside Buck that made his vision blur.
Buck’s hand found his own cock, stroking desperately, chasing the edge Eddie kept him perched on.
“You’re so perfect like this,” Eddie groaned. “Open for me. Taking me so well.”
Buck whined, fingers tightening against not only himself but also the countertop in front of him. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Eddie promised, one hand gripping Buck’s hip, the other smoothing up his chest to wrap around his throat, not squeezing, just grounding, possessive. “You’re mine.”
That sent Buck over the edge.
He came hard, splattering his stomach and chest, crying out Eddie’s name. His body clenched around him, and Eddie cursed as he followed a moment later, burying himself deep and coming with a low, wrecked groan.
For a few long beats, they didn’t move. There was just the sound of their breathing, ragged and loud in the quiet kitchen.
Eventually, Eddie eased out, gentle with Buck’s oversensitive body, and leaned forward to press a kiss to his jaw.
“You okay?” he asked softly, running a hand down Buck’s thigh as he turned them so they could once again be face to face, Buck’s body sagging against the counter.
“I’m fantastic. That was— holy shit. ”
Eddie chuckled, brushing his knuckles over Buck’s cheek. “Good thing we got that lube.”
Buck grinned, sated and flushed. “Put it on the permanent list.”