terminallytranquil
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"It was in the couch," Buck complains. He prods at the arm of it, looking aggrieved. "You've gotta teach this guy not to take other people's things."
"Why is that my responsibility?"
Buck twists his neck to look up at Eddie from where he's putting the sock back on, expression incredulous. "It's your couch," he justifies, once all ten toes are back in captivity. "You—brought it into this world."
"Mm-mm," Eddie hums, lips pursed, head shaking. "I want a paternity test. That couch looks nothing like me."
"You sure? You're both kinda, y'know, square. Wide—hey!" Buck yelps, because Eddie has picked up a throw pillow and is using it as a weapon against the side of Buck's head with one hand. (The other is occupied stiff-arming his beer to keep it from spilling on his... second-born, apparently.) "You didn't let me finish! You're—inviting," Buck laughs, winded, "and—and soft, and comfortable—"
Or: Buck can't seem to stop losing things in Eddie's couch.
Bookmarked by terminallytranquil
29 Jun 2026
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He kept scrolling, eyes widening further with every pass of his thumb.
Further down the list, past the painfully standard relationship advice, were some decidedly more intimate suggestions.
"Initiate physical intimacy," one section read. "Sometimes a partner needs to feel desired and wanted. Consider surprising them with some sexual attention! Scroll for a few suggestions!"
Buck slowly blinked at his phone, trying to digest what he was seeing. Was this... was this actually on WikiHow?
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or; Eddie introduces Buck to WikiHow. Buck uses it for unconventional purposes.
Bookmarked by terminallytranquil
26 Jun 2026
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"You're serious?" Eddie manages, voice quieter than he intends. "I don't- I wouldn't even know what to do, man. Just- hold it there?"
He hears Buck's breath catch even through the crackly line. "Yeah. Or you can, like, roll your hips, grind against it. Or you can ... do little rotations with your wrist." A pause. A lengthy, pregnant pause that should indicate that Buck is about to say something insane that shatters Eddie's world, but Eddie's apparently naive enough to think this is still at least a semi-normal conversation until Buck says, "I could show you."
Eddie's stomach does a somersault, heart suddenly thundering so loud he can barely hear himself think. "What?" He croaks out.
"I could show you, it's - it's… not a big deal. It doesn't have to be." He's not sure which one of them Buck is trying to convince with that. "Just... a guy showing another guy how to get off."
or: Eddie is struggling to keep up with his sex drive after starting T. If only someone else could lend a helping hand.
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Bookmarked by terminallytranquil
20 Jun 2026
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Bookmarked by terminallytranquil
18 Jun 2026
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The bruises mottle Buck’s skin, like paint splattered clumsily on a canvas. Except—the artist behind this, whoever they are, clearly went about it with intent and precision. A curator of hickeys; Buck’s pale thighs like the walls of a gallery. A thriving one, at that. It’s… a lot of marks.
Eddie wonders if it hurts. Well—he knows that part already, at least based on what Buck told him a few minutes ago. So instead, Eddie starts to wonder if it hurt. The procedure behind the photo; the act of being marked up so irrefutably.
Buck reacts to Eddie’s thumbs up message with a thumbs down.
Buck: I just accidentally sexted you dude
Don’t 👍👍👍👍 meOr: Eddie receives an unintended photo. Then he bites some thighs about it.
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Bookmarked by terminallytranquil
16 Jun 2026