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It feels strange to be sitting on Eddie’s couch. It shouldn’t. Buck feels wired, trying to control the grip on his beer in case Eddie notices the tension in his hand, constantly reminding himself to stop bouncing his leg, though he only manages it for a few seconds at a time. They’re sitting further apart than they used to, and Buck tries not to let the thought linger.
Eddie had cornered him at their lockers at the end of their shift, invited him over for a drink, and for some reason, despite the fact that Buck had been waiting for something like this, something to bridge the yawning abyss that had been cracking open between them, all he felt was apprehension. He thought he would say yes without hesitation, but when he went to speak, the word felt stuck in his throat. Eddie had tilted his head, waiting, and for lack of any real reason to refuse, Buck had come along.
Which led them here, now, on this couch, in this house that used to feel like home but now feels haunted. His body feels too big for the hallways, too heavy for the cushions, not quite in its rightful place. The conversation has been easy so far, though it’s not really a surprise. Eddie seems to be using Chris as a verbal buffer despite him not being here, and Buck lets him because he does actually care what Chris has been up to. Eddie eventually runs out of information to share, though, and Buck doesn’t have the heart to keep the charade going. So they’re drinking, silently, the hum of the random documentary they put on TV providing at least some reprieve from the tension.
Eddie shifts in his seat and Buck notices out of the corner of his eye. He does it again, then clears his throat, and Buck sits straighter, bracing on instinct.
“I met someone the other day,” Eddie starts, his thumb playing with the half-peeled label on his beer. Buck goes rigid next to him but forces himself to relax. He breathes slowly and hums, encouraging Eddie to continue. “She came up to me at the gym. Think we’re going on a date Friday.”
The ringing in Buck’s ears sounds like there’s an entire hive settling in his mind. Eddie looks at him then, finally, and shrugs in a way that tries very hard to feel casual but fails spectacularly in the eyes of someone who really knows him. It’s difficult to read what exactly has him so guarded, though, and there’s a tightness in his chest when he thinks that he used to know every one of Eddie’s expressions.
He inhales shakily and offers a small smile, forces himself to make it reach his eyes. “Yeah? What’s she like?” His tongue sits heavy in his mouth, and the words feel like sand as they tear out of his throat.
“I don’t know, she’s cute. Nice.” Eddie shrugs again, and Buck has to refrain from snapping that’s the spirit! He can be supportive. He can.
He can try.
“That’s it?” Buck tilts his head, huffing a breath that he thinks sounds enough like a chuckle.
“I don’t know. She’s a nurse, I think. She loves kids and science, I think Chris’d really like her.”
It only takes a second. Something in Buck cracks open and magma pours out, scorching heat that spreads and burns through every inch of his flesh. He doesn’t have time to rein it in; he scoffs against his better judgment, mumbling barely under his breath, “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”
Eddie’s head snaps to him, confusion and upset written all over his face. “Sorry?” He tries to say it like a challenge, but Buck can hear the uncertainty in his voice.
Buck shakes his head, having gotten some semblance of a hold on the anger weighing like tar in his gut, and he drops his beer on the coffee table with a little more strength than intended. The glass wobbles for a second.
“Nothing.” He stands up and wipes the condensation from his hand on his jeans. “Nothing, I just– I remembered I told Maddie I’d babysit tonight, so…” He clicks his tongue and points his thumb towards the door.
Eddie stands up with him and takes a step closer, a deep frown contorting his features. “No, you didn’t. She and Chimney are at the Wilsons’ with the kids. You were there when Hen invited them yesterday.”
Buck flushes, cursing internally. Why did Maddie have to marry into the 118? Well, it was a flimsy excuse anyway. He rubs at the back of his neck but that only intensifies the tension in his shoulders.
“Right, uh. Well I have, uh, stuff to do at my house. Not done unpacking and everything, you know how it is.” He moves for the door, but Eddie rounds the couch with surprising speed and plants himself in the way.
“Stop lying to my face.”
“Eddie, I’m– I just mixed things up, but, uh. I gotta go.”
“No.” Buck raises an eyebrow at the finality in Eddie’s tone. “What’s going on? Are you seriously pissed I’m going on a date?”
He sighs heavily, shoulders sagging with it. Briefly, he thinks back to the end of shift and wishes he could retroactively refuse the invitation. He knows he has no say in who Eddie dates, why would he? It’s not even that he cares, he doesn’t, he doesn’t care. It’s just the way Eddie says it, like he’s resigned to it, like it’s not even what he– it doesn’t matter. Buck doesn’t care. “No. Do whatever you want,” he says flatly.
Eddie, evidently, does not buy it. “Uh-uh. Just say whatever it is you want to say, Buck.”
“I have nothing to say, she sounds great. Have fun on your date.” Truthfully, Buck could have made more of an effort to at least try not to sound passive-aggressive, but he doesn’t intend to stay long enough for the fallout anyway. It doesn’t matter.
“You’re being a dick,” he says calmly, and he’s right, which only serves to irritate Buck even further. “Spit it out.”
“No. I’m going home.”
Buck takes a step to the side towards the door, and Eddie mirrors him, still in the way. Another step, and Eddie follows, crossing his arms defiantly. Another one, and the ridiculous game they’re playing manages to draw an exasperated grunt from him as he drags his hands over his face. “Eddie, stop. I don’t want to fight.”
“Well maybe I do.” Buck’s gaze lands on Eddie’s, and he feels sweat pearl at his temple. He looks determined. “I want to fight, if it gets you to talk to me.”
Buck could take him. They’d tussle, sure, and Eddie is really not that far from him strength-wise, but eventually he would get Eddie on his ass and out of the way long enough for him to get out of the house and into his Jeep. Slam the door behind him. The thought brings bile in the back of his throat. Eddie raises a challenging eyebrow at him, and the wave of fondness that submerges him tastes bitter. He reaches for the anger again instead, easier to control.
“You know what? Fine.” Buck throws his arms up, giving up on any attempt at avoiding it. “You want to fight, let’s fight. Chris would like her? Seriously? How many times are you going to repeat the exact same mistake?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Eddie, you don’t date someone because you think they’ll make a good substitute mother for your kid. That’s what you did with Ana, that’s what you did with Marisol, and how’d that turn out for you?”
Eddie recoils at the jab, jaw clenching around bitten back words. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
“It’s cruel to them, to Chris, and to you,” he continues, ignoring Eddie’s weak attempt at an objection. “You can’t just hope the love comes after, out of habit or proximity or whatever stupid way you think it works!”
Eddie scoffs, his eyes darting away from Buck. “We don’t all get to be hopeless romantics, Buck. Sometimes there’s no magic. Sometimes you have to be pragmatic.”
“If you really believe that, I feel sorry for you.” Buck shakes his head in disbelief, and there’s a flicker of hurt across Eddie’s features.
“Chris will always be a factor,” he grits out eventually. “I can’t believe you don’t get that.”
“Of course I get it, Eddie, but it’s not just a factor for you, is it? It’s the entire reason you’re even considering going on a date. She’s nice? Come on.” Eddie inhales like he’s about to retort but Buck cuts him off with a wave of his hand. “What are you trying to escape, grief? You know it’s gonna fail, you know it doesn’t work. So you’re sliding back into old patterns for what, comfort? It’s a doomed relationship, but hey, at least you know the script, right? I guess that’s more reassuring for you than actually risking anything,” Buck spits out.
“This is not about Bobby, or my abuela,” Eddie all but shouts, uncrossing his arms to point a finger in Buck’s face.
“Okay then what– who is it about, Eddie? ‘Cause it’s not about you!” Buck isn’t intimidated. He matches his tone, stepping into Eddie’s space, and he feels shamefully triumphant when Eddie has to tilt his head up a little to look him in the eyes. “You know better, you’ve changed. What are you– whose expectations are you trying to fulfill here? Your parents? Your reservoir of Catholic guilt? That’s not what you really want, you just think it’s what you have to do, but it’s not.”
Eddie paces away from him, running a frustrated hand through his hair. He chances a glance at Buck and casts his eyes back down immediately. Buck reins in the urge to reach out. “I don’t know what the hell you’re trying to say.”
“Yeah, you do. And it’s not what Christopher wants, either, you know,” Buck adds, lowering his voice, but his anger is still right there on the surface. “You just assume it is. You keep doing that, making decisions for everyone in the world except yourself.” Eddie stops in his tracks and pins him under a furious glare. Clearly, he doesn’t appreciate the call-out, which means Buck was right to say it.
“And how would you know what he wants? You’re not…” Eddie snaps his mouth shut with wide eyes, all anger suddenly gone from his traits, but Buck still hears the rest of his thought. He doesn’t know how much Eddie means it, if he even does, but it hurts him regardless.
“Buck, I didn’t mean–”
Buck shakes his head abruptly, once, jaw tight. It’s enough to shut Eddie up, or maybe he just sees in Buck’s face that there’s no point, that the damage is done, anyway. He feels vaguely nauseous but pushes through it.
“He just wants you to be happy, for yourself, not for him. He’s made that clear plenty of times. Just do better, Eddie,” Buck practically pleads, and he hates it.
He pulls himself back, as if physically getting further away from Eddie would give him a better handle on his emotions.
“Why do you hang on to this idea that Chris needs a mother anyway? He’s back home, with you, his father, and he’s doing good. He’s a teenager now, not an eight-year-old who just lost his mom. So what is it? You need the wife and the white picket fence, otherwise it’s not really a family?”
Some of the heat is gone from Eddie’s words when he replies, and he eyes Buck cautiously, like he’s afraid he’ll break. All it does is make Buck feel like he’s about to crawl out of his own skin. “I’m allowed to want to be happy, Buck, to want a partner,” Eddie says, a little subdued.
“You already have a partner!” The words stumble out of him before he can think about what he’s saying. Eddie winces, breathing heavily, but keeping his stunned gaze steady on him. The air in the room feels like cotton in Buck’s lungs. Now that he’s said it, though, he feels all his thoughts fighting their way out of him, and he lets them, swallowing dryly around the tightness in his throat.
“I’ve been here, for you, for both of you! I’ve been your unofficial co-parent for years, I– I was there for Chris when you got shot, and for you when you came home, I was there when you lost it and took a baseball bat to everything you own – because Chris called me, by the way – I took over your lease to help you get him back even if it killed me to let you leave.”
As the list goes on, he stalks closer to Eddie, still speechless, who staggers back lightly when Buck inadvertently gestures one of his hands a little too close to his face.
“I’m here for the bake sales, the movie nights, the awkward parent talks, the groceries, the morning pancakes, the PT, everything. Jesus, Eddie, you gave me your son in your fucking will without even telling me about it.”
Buck watches what he thinks is panic flash across Eddie’s eyes. They don’t talk about it, they haven’t since Eddie told him, not even when Hen talked about updating hers recently. There was barely a shared glance between them then, because there didn’t need to be anything more. This was theirs, both of them and Chris, a promise shared only between them.
Now, though, it weighs on Buck like a secret, like the lack of acknowledgment wasn’t a sign of unadulterated trust, but another way for Eddie to keep Buck’s role in his life intangible. Like he couldn’t endure putting the words to it, making it real.
“Do you…” Eddie starts, eventually. He sounds unbearably vulnerable, but he shrugs it off with a slight shake of his head, more to himself than anyone else. “Do you want that to change?”
Buck heaves a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. Of course Eddie misinterprets him, now. They haven’t been able to read each other in months. “No, Eddie, of course not.” He levels an imploring look at him and puts as much sincerity in his words as he can. This is not something he can let Eddie misunderstand.
“Everything I said, it’s not like it’s a chore, I wanted to do all those things. I still do, even if you haven’t been letting me.”
Eddie seems to regain some composure, because the frown easily settles back over his eyes. “You’re the one who’s pulling away. You moved out.”
Buck scoffs, letting Eddie’s accusation drag them both back into the thick of it. “Of course I moved out, Eddie, do you not hear what I’m trying to say?”
“If you wanted to keep being here for us, then you should have stayed!”
Buck clenches his fists at his sides and wills himself to take a beat. With a sharp exhale, he finds the guts to ask. “What am I to you?”
That catches Eddie off-guard, though he quickly schools his features to hide it behind pursed lips.
“You’re my best…” Eddie falls silent, confusion and hesitation written across his face.
“Yeah, best friend doesn’t really cut it, does it?” Buck’s lips twist into a humorless smirk, and he hates himself for it. He doesn’t mean to put so much vitriol in it, but he’s exhausted – everything that happened in the last year, and months of Eddie slowly slipping through his fingers – and if Eddie didn’t want him to blow up then he shouldn’t have lit the fuse.
“I moved out because despite everything I do for you, it’s not enough. I’m not enough. You’re still looking for something else, because in your eyes, I’m not your partner in any way that matters. My place in this family was always temporary.” This is as close to an admission as Buck ever got. Dizziness passes through him for barely a second, and he can still hear the blood rushing in his ears for a while after that.
“Of course not, God, that’s so– that’s not fair, Buck,” he says, wounded, and Buck convinces himself it doesn’t break his heart. “I never meant to make you think that.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“It’s just– we’re not– it’s not the same.”
“What could gym girl or some other stranger give you that I’m not already?” Buck jeers.
When Eddie doesn’t reply, Buck gestures a hand exaggeratedly for him to enlighten him.
Eddie blushes bright red as he silently holds his gaze, and in any other situation, Buck would have reveled in it. As it is, it just fans the flames that have been slowly licking up his insides. He can’t believe this is what this is about. He knows he’ll regret his words before even saying them, but he can’t help it.
“Really? This is just about getting your dick sucked on the regular?” Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up, clearly not used to Buck being so needlessly crude, and Buck wishes he would just stop talking but his mouth gets away from him. “That is what this is about. Unbelievable. Jesus, if all you’re missing is a warm body to fuck, then I could fucking do it”.
Eddie’s eyes grow impossibly wider, and Buck stops breathing for a second. “What?” He croaks out weakly.
Buck backpedals immediately; he waves him off, tamping down the embarrassment of essentially propositioning Eddie in the worst possible way, in the middle of his damn living room. He can spiral about it later, along with the laundry list of everything else he fucked up tonight. He chooses to side-step the issue he brought on himself and get back to what actually pissed him off in the first place.
“Forget it, whatever.”
“Wait, Buck, what–” Eddie says frantically, like he’s not about to let the comment go that easily, but Buck bullies his way forward.
“I said forget it,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Look, finding Chris a mother is not going to fix whatever you think needs fixing. You gotta find something, someone that makes you happy. Not your kid, not your tías, not your fucking parents; you.” He crowds Eddie and shoves a palm against his chest, just hard enough to make sure he really feels it. “What do you want, Eddie?”
Buck watches in real time as Eddie tries like hell to recover from the whiplash, evidently failing to to decide what he actually wants to focus on. He shakes his head slightly, his eyes flickering between Buck’s. He looks lost, and Buck thinks, good. It’s about time Eddie bothers to ask himself the damn question.
Eddie’s gaze darts to his lips. It only stays there a second before he brings his eyes back up with a stutter in his breath, but it’s unmistakable and it sends Buck’s heart rate skyrocketing so high he feels dizzy. Eddie shakes his head minutely with a searching look, and Buck would give anything for even a glimpse of the thoughts going through his head. The air grows thick between them, the silence stretches, only broken up by the breaths escaping Eddie’s chest. Buck narrows his eyes, waiting for something, anything, until eventually, he feels a prickle of resentment that Eddie almost gave him hope.
Buck huffs and steps away, barely noticing how Eddie’s hand had just reached out. He shoulders past Eddie to stride to the door.
A strong grip yanks him back by the elbow until there’s once again a body between him and the exit. Buck’s heart stutters. Eddie looks– he looks scared, his eyes shining with barely contained panic, like he thinks if he lets Buck step out of that door, he’s not sure he’s ever coming back. Eddie releases his cheek from where he’s been worrying it between his teeth and exhales unsteadily.
“I – I don’t know what I want.” His voice cracks around the words. Buck softens, and tilts his head with a pained look.
“I can’t choose for you, Eddie. I’m not going to. So figure it out.”
Buck reaches around him for the handle and opens the door. He doesn’t even have the time to take a step; Eddie grabs his shoulders and kicks the door shut behind him with enough force to shake the walls. Buck startles back, and the breath catches in his throat. Eddie stares at him with a frantic look, his fists tight in the fabric of his shirt, until suddenly he nods, determined. Every hair on Buck’s body rises.
He barely has a second to register what’s happening before Eddie tugs him forward and crashes their lips together. The aim leaves to be desired, but Eddie quickly releases Buck’s shirt, instead bringing his palm to Buck’s jaw, correcting course and guiding him where he wants, until his hand wraps around the back of Buck’s neck in a firm grip.
Eddie kisses like he’s coming up for air after holding his breath for years, desperation and relief overpowering any intended tenderness. He swipes the tip of his tongue along Buck’s lip, drawing a soft sound from him, and Buck’s brain finally gets with the program. He gives as good as he gets, pressing even closer, biting at Eddie’s lips. His hands grasp wherever he can reach, Eddie’s arms, his ribs, his jaw, one of them grabbing tight hold of his mussed hair. A surprised whimper falls in a warm breath against his lips and Buck thinks it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard. He wants to spend the rest of his life earning those sounds.
Eddie steadily pushes Buck back until his hips hit the back of the couch, and presses open-mouth kisses along Buck’s jaw as his hands drag down his torso to settle around his waist. Buck tilts his head back with a moan, holding on to Eddie like the ground might give out beneath them. Eddie sinks his teeth into the skin of his neck, making warmth pools in his gut, his hips jerk forward of their own accord, and Eddie– Eddie’s pulling him closer, bringing their mouths back together, and–
“Eddie, wait,” Buck manages to say against his lips, breathless.
It takes a moment for Eddie to register he was spoken to, and he pulls away a fraction, thumbs digging in the meat of Buck’s hips. He looks at Buck expectantly, and evidently a little annoyed to have been interrupted, which makes Buck huff a winded chuckle. He stares into Eddie’s wild eyes, and he can feel his heartbeat in his throat.
“You– you’re straight,” he says dumbly.
Eddie throws his head back and honest-to-God cackles, all frenzied energy, and settles his gaze back on Buck with something akin to awe. “Maybe.”
Buck can’t help but match his attitude, letting out an incredulous laugh. “What are you doing?”
Eddie gives him a lopsided smile and shrugs one of his shoulders as he brings his hand to cup Buck’s cheek. “Figuring it out.”
He pulls Buck back in, stopping just a breadth away from him, until Buck nods almost imperceptibly and Eddie closes the distance between them.
He’s more gentle than before, taking his time like he wants to take Buck apart and keep the pieces to himself. Buck dips his hand under Eddie’s shirt, slips his fingers just along the waistband of his jeans, and Eddie makes a low sound against his lips that goes straight to his crotch. Eddie presses them together with a groan and Buck gasps because Eddie’s hard, he’s hard against him, Buck did that, Buck’s the one who is drawing those sounds from him with every roll of his hips. It’s a heady feeling, and he’s struggling to suppress a smile because he really doesn’t want to stop kissing him.
Emboldened, he grabs a handful of Eddie’s ass, needing him closer, needing friction, and he’s increasingly uncomfortable in his jeans but he’s not stopping for anything. Eddie bucks forward hard enough to make the couch slide backwards with an unpleasant screech, and he giggles against him –Eddie giggles, Buck feels lightheaded– and ducks his head on his shoulder. Buck laughs breathlessly and gives a playful squeeze where his hand is still in Eddie’s shorts.
“Not the best setup,” Eddie mumbles against his skin, punctuating his words with biting kisses at Buck’s neck, and he can feel his smile even if he can’t see it. He rolls his hips against Buck again, making them both groan. “I don’t feel like moving,” he finishes, panting.
Buck draws his hands back to peel Eddie off of him and grabs his wrist, trying to ignore just how tighter his jeans suddenly feel at the dejected whine Eddie lets out. He rolls his eyes fondly, hoping to keep some semblance of dignity, and pulls him around the couch.
He intends to guide Eddie to sit but he finds himself being shoved down by strong hands. He falls back on the cushions with a oof, and then Eddie is climbing on top of him, straddling him, squeezing Buck’s hips between his strong thighs, and all the blood rushes from Buck’s brain to somewhere eminently more important.
Eddie barely lets him catch his breath, he slides his hand in Buck’s hair and tugs his head back as he leans over him to capture his lips in a searing kiss. It’s messy, hungry in a way he didn’t know Eddie was capable of, and it’s overwhelming. Eddie is all he can feel, all he can taste, all he can see, his entire world narrows down to the points where they’re connected; Eddie’s blunt nails against his scalp, the wetness of his tongue in his mouth, his cock against the crest of Eddie’s clothed taint.
Buck drags his hand up Eddie’s inner thigh, fingers reaching under his shorts up to his navel, until his thumb rubs intently against the barely contained hardness in his boxers and Eddie keens, gasping against his mouth.
“Oh, fuck, please Buck–” He nips at Buck’s lips, just hard enough to hurt, and Buck’s eyes flutter closed, a quiver running through all of him. Buck repeats the motion of his hand and preens when Eddie drops his head against him with a whimper.
“What do you want,” he pants into Eddie’s ear, “anything, anything you want.”
Eddie shakes his head, bearing his hips down against Buck mindlessly. “I don’t know– fuck, just, more.”
Buck nods frantically, hands moving of their own accord to pull down Eddie’s clothes just enough to free his cock. Eddie collapses against him with a groan and Buck salivates at the sound – fuck, he hasn’t even touched him yet. Awkwardly, he uses his free hand to fumble with the fly of his own jeans, until Eddie gets with the program and helps him, scooching back to give them room.
“Jesus,” Eddie breathes, licking his lips as his eyes stay fixed on Buck’s pink, hard cock. Buck flushes bright red, feeling both exposed and admired. Eddie runs a tentative touch along his length, swiping at the head of his cock and watching with fascination as another spurt of precum pearls under his touch. “You’re so fucking wet, fuck.”
Buck moans as his head falls back against the couch, letting Eddie explore as he takes him in hand. “I think I get the nickname, now,” Eddie chuckles, fascinated, stroking languidly. Buck tries to follow the motion, pushing into Eddie’s fist, fingers digging into Eddie’s thighs, and he allows himself to look; at Eddie’s strong calloused fingers around him, at the focused frown over his eyes, at the shine of his lips where Eddie’s spit is mixed with his, at Eddie’s own cock, criminally ignored as it stands against his clothed stomach, and suddenly Buck is pulled from the trance Eddie’s touch has put him in – this is unacceptable.
He reaches for Eddie again, tugging at his shirt until he manages to get it over his head, and he grabs at his hips to align him where he wants. Eddie stumbles forward, releasing Buck’s cock from his grip to catch himself on the back of the couch.
Buck raises an open palm in front of Eddie’s chin, and he grins when Eddie narrows his eyes in confusion.
“What are you–”
“Spit.”
His voice is a lot more steady than he feels. It’s barely necessary with how much Buck is leaking, but given the hungry look Eddie gives him, he knows he hit the nail on the head. Eddie’s cheeks turn bright red, but he keeps their gaze locked as he tilts his head down and lets a glob spit drop from his lips onto Buck’s palm. Buck tenses through a full-body shiver, and it’s a fucking miracle he didn’t come from just that.
He adjusts his position under Eddie and wraps his hand around them both in a tight squeeze. They barely fit in his palm, but it’s enough, and he starts stroking languidly, thumbing at the soft skin right under the head of Eddie’s cock just to hear Eddie moan above him. Eddie grips Buck’s shoulder for leverage and leans forward to lock their lips together again. When Buck picks up the pace, twisting his wrist on every upstroke, the kiss turns desperate until they’re just breathing each other’s air, exchanging gasps and groans and swipes of their tongues.
Their cocks glide together easily, aided by Eddie’s spit and Buck’s steady trickle of precum, the obscene squelch in Buck’s hand and their heated breaths the only sounds filling the room. Eddie fucks harder into Buck’s fist and whimpers into his mouth.
“This is gonna be over– uh– embarrassingly fast,” he pants. Buck huffs a laugh against him, feeling the familiar tension building in his crotch, his thighs, and he nips playfully at Eddie’s lips.
“Right there with you,” he says, even though he hadn’t even noticed how close he was until Eddie said anything.
“Fuck, good.” Eddie brings his hand down where Buck is holding them, enclosing with his own fingers what little part of them Buck couldn’t reach, and Buck knocks his head back with a groan.
He rolls his hips into their grip, soft sounds escaping him at every thrust. He drags the hand resting on Eddie’s hip up his ribs, feeling the muscles shift under his palm, and he can’t help but dig his nails in the soft skin.
“Yeah, come on, bud,” Eddie says against his lips, and if he had the brain capacity right now, Buck would feel embarrassed that that’s what sends him over the edge.
He comes in ropes over their joined hands, over his barely rucked up shirt, shit, and he distantly registers Eddie leaning back with a mesmerized “holy shit”. He forces himself to open his eyes even though he still feels the receding pulses of pleasure, refusing to miss any of this for even a second.
His gaze lands on Eddie, transfixed as he trusts into the mess, his grip and the friction almost painful where Buck’s becoming too sensitive, but he doesn’t care, he can’t, he just looks as Eddie fucks into their fists once, twice more until his hips stutter and he knocks his forehead against Buck’s, shuddering through his release with a groan.
They catch their breath against each other, chests rising and falling heavily. Buck slowly comes down, and he loosens his grip around their softening cocks to rest his hand awkwardly between them, for lack of a better place to put it. A prickling sense of dread builds in his chest, and he opens his mouth to say – he doesn’t even know what he’d say, but it doesn’t matter because Eddie stops him with a gentle peck to his lips.
And then Eddie wipes his broad hand on Buck’s shirt.
“Wh– dude! Gross!” he splutters, pulling back slightly to look at the damage. Man, he liked this shirt. Eddie said it brought out his eyes, once.
Eddie laughs brightly, and Buck stares at him like he’s crazy. “I think we’re past that point.” He shoots Buck a radiant smile, his cheeks all pink and hair all mussed, and he’s so luminous Buck could cry. Eddie tugs lightly at the fabric and lets it drop back onto Buck’s skin, who grimaces at the grimy sensation.
“Shoulda taken it off.” Eddie shrugs and the bastard fucking smirks.
“No one stopped you,” Buck grumbles, with absolutely no heat behind it, because he’s still reeling at the magnitude of the situation, and Eddie’s just looking at him, half naked, still straddling him, still hanging out of his stupid gym shorts, and Buck thinks the cognitive dissonance is about to break his brain clean in half.
“Why are you not freaking out?” he asks, because he has to, because he is kind of freaking out and he’d like to not feel alone in that.
Eddie tilts his head and gives him an uncertain smile. “I don’t know. I should be, but– I don’t know. It just feels...right.” His smile drops a fraction, and he adds, “or maybe not? For you?”
Buck sighs as relief washes over him, and he brings his clean hand to Eddie’s jaw to guide him closer. “Eddie, you’re out of your mind if you think for a second I could regret any of this.”
Eddie beams. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I’m all in. Well, I – if you are.”
“Hm, I don’t know, I have this date Friday…” Buck releases the gentle hold on his cheek to slap Eddie’s shoulder with an affronted huff.
“You fucking– don’t even–” He shoves him again, and Eddie laughs as he grips Buck’s wrist to stop his assault.
“Too soon?”
“Yeah, too soon! What is wrong with you?!” Buck says indignantly, but he’s smiling anyway because Eddie is, and then Eddie leans in to kiss him tenderly with a “sorry” whispered against his lips.
Eddie pulls back, and Buck feels his heart flutter, seeing all the time they have ahead of them flash in his deep brown eyes. Eddie strokes his thumb against Buck’s cheekbone, and sighs softly. “All in.”