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On all accounts, Eddie should feel fan-fucking-tastic this morning. He's still reeling from last night, wherein Buck shoved every preconceived notion of their friendship right in the trash.
Eddie couldn't be happier about it.
He didn't want to move back to Texas, after all. He'd just needed someone to give him a reason to stay, to fight for the life he's created here for him and his son. It had taken Buck less than an hour after he left their meeting with the real estate agent to return to Eddie's front door, a clipboard in hand and determination in his eyes.
"You're not moving." Buck said in lieu of greeting.
"Buck," Eddie's heart sunk; this is why he'd been nervous about telling Buck in the first place. He was already on a bit of a baking bender because Tommy left him; Eddie didn't think the grocery stores of LA had enough flour left for Buck to fall down another rabbit hole. "You know I have to."
"I know you think you have to," Buck allows, pushing in past Eddie's shoulder. "But I have a plan." The clipboard echoes loudly through the house as Buck drops it on the coffee table and waves Eddie over to sit with him on the couch. It reminds him of when they did the same just a few weeks ago — Buck, a set look on his face as dark as the green hoodie he's wearing, and him, tired and loose and less dressed than he should be in a white t-shirt and dark red boxers. At least they're talking instead of drinking this time.
The header of the front page of the clipboard reads Operation Bring Chris Home in big, bold letters, complemented by a few AirBnB listings. "You did this in an hour?" Eddie asks as he sinks into the couch next to Buck.
Buck doesn't meet his eyes as he runs a hand over the page. "Something like that. It's not important. What is important is that you're not moving. At least not permanently."
Eddie sighs, but indulges him like always. "And why is that, Buck? You know I can't afford to pay rent there and my mortgage here."
"Yeah, which is why I'm going to pay your mortgage. If you let me move in, that is." Eddie blinks. Blinks again. But he doesn't disagree, and that's enough for Buck. "You go to El Paso for like, a month or two, work on things with Chris, and when he's ready to come back, you can come back. I know you think he loves being in El Paso, but like, I'm not convinced. At the very least, he's not a fan of living with your parents."
"That's not what it seems like to me."
Buck does look at him then, his expression torn between sympathy and regret. "Yeah, well, he's still mad at you. You said it yourself that he barely tells you anything."
"But what? He talks to you?"
Buck lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "Sometimes. He...he asked me not to tell you when we do. But he misses LA, and I know how you feel about El Paso—"
"Do you?" Eddie asks, voice sharp and ragged like he's begging Buck to bleed on it.
As expected, Buck pushes forward, unfaltering and fearless. "Eddie, come on. You know I do." Eddie's certainly spent enough time venting to him about it. "You're telling me you really want to move? To leave the 118?" Again? The word goes without saying, but it's written all over Buck's face.
To leave me again? Eddie can't be sure he's not reading between the lines on that one. "Of course I don't." he says slowly.
"Exactly," Buck smiles, but something about it feels...grim. It's hardly a shadow of the one Eddie loves on him. "Now are you going to listen to my plan or not?"
Eddie raises an eyebrow. "Is there more than that?"
"I mean," Buck grabs the clipboard. "I flagged a lot of listings. Then there's getting out of my lease, moving my stuff in, moving your stuff, travel arrangements..." He says, paging through his papers. "Plus, I don't know...do you know what you're going to say to Chris? I thought maybe family therapy might be a good start. I bet I could get him to agree to it, and I've already found a few therapists in El Paso I think you'll like."
Eddie just listens as Buck moves from page to page — and there are a lot of pages. Buck's planned this whole thing from start to finish, from the second Eddie says 'yes' to his insanely detailed plan until the moment Chris tells Eddie he's ready to come home. Clearly, it's something he's had in mind for a while; some of the AirBnB listings are dated more than a week ago. It's all so very Buck of him, complete with works cited and a resource list.
It's all so very Alpha of him.
Eddie had never met a real Alpha before Buck, but he's heard stories. Everyone has — of tall, muscular, overbearing assholes; of people with the biological imperative to feel in charge, in control; of those that could have the world spinning around their finger with a few words spoken in that low, hypnotic tone that only came out around omegas, their supposed 'counterparts', weak and willing and desperate for a family to call their own.
The first day they'd worked together, Buck had confirmed every stereotype Eddie'd ever heard, from the doglike marking of his 'territory' to the challenging nature of every word Buck shot Eddie's way to his insistence at being the first to tackle any sort of dangerous rescue. And Eddie had wanted to find it annoying, wanted to write Buck off as the idiot knothead Hen and Chim lovingly teased him about being (that had been surprising too, that everyone at the station knew about his designation, when so many people tried to keep it quiet in fear of judgment. Not him, though). But something in him found it almost cute, like he was a bratty puppy begging for attention instead of a 6'2" man trying to make Eddie's life miserable.
And then they'd become friends, and every illusion Eddie had of Alphas had been categorically shattered. Buck wasn't overbearing; he was protective. He craved an ounce of control because he'd spent his entire life shoving away that part of him since it just disappointed his parents more. And Buck had never used his Alpha voice, accidentally or otherwise, even when they got a call for a female omega in the deepest throes of her heat. He'd just politely excused himself from the situation and gone home early when the unexpected cloud of hormones triggered his own body's response.
He could still see some of those little traits today — the way he dove face-first into anything potentially dangerous just so nobody else could. The way something ticked in his brain and sent him down a spiral of research until he knew everything there was to know about the subject in question. And he was meticulous and consistent about it; this was far from the first time Buck had shown up at his house with a clipboard and a mission, though it was usually not as multifaceted as this.
Unlike those other plans, there's a key point missing here — a final aspect that is blatantly missing.
"And when we come back?" Eddie asks, quiet and daring.
"Ah, well." Buck clears his throat and lets the clipboard fall limp in his hand, pages flipping over the clip and dangling toward the ground. He steels himself before he looks back at Eddie. "I thought through a couple options for that, but I wanted to get your input."
"Oh?" Eddie mouths, certain that his voice will crack open with every emotion rushing through him if he speaks. Buck's eyes have a hold on him that he can't quite break, even if he'd wanted to.
"Yeah." Buck nods. "Of course, I could find a place whenever you were ready to come back. I wouldn't mind crashing on the couch if I had to for a few weeks until I found something."
"You're always welcome," Eddie confirms, and wow, his voice really is a mess.
There's that hint of that smile Eddie was looking for. "Yeah?"
"What's the other option?" Eddie presses, a thrumming sensation in his stomach as he's unable to keep himself from moving a little closer. He folds back the hanging pages and takes the clipboard out of Buck's hand. It goes so easily.
"Um." Buck swallows, and suddenly his eyes are scanning the room, looking anywhere but Eddie. "Well, that's probably the most feasible option, honestly. You'll probably want your space when you come back so you and Chris have time to—"
"Buck," Eddie murmurs, cutting off his rant in an instant. "When have I ever wanted space from you?"
This stops Buck short. His body freezes and he morphs into something statuesque, hands clenching in his lap. Without thinking, Eddie reaches forward to smooth them out. "What's the other option?" He tries again.
Buck's hands are warm in Eddie's — a little slick from sweat, a little uneasy from nerves. Eddie wants to hold them until they're strong and steady again. "You could...I could...stay. Here." His gaze finally returns to Eddie, even though it looks like it's the hardest thing he's ever had to do. "With you and Chris."
And when Eddie leans in to kiss a "yes" into Buck's skin, it feels like the whole world clicks into place.
So yeah: He kissed Buck, and Buck kissed back, and they’re about to spend the next 24 hours together doing the best job in the world with the best people in the world. And they’re doing this. All in, like always. It'd barely taken them a conversation to get on the same page — between stolen kisses and gentle presses of skin on skin, they'd answered everything. Yes, Buck's known he was down bad for Eddie since Tommy dumped him. No, Eddie's never thought about his sexuality until just this second. No, Eddie doesn't have any questions. It's just him and Buck, and nothing has ever made more sense to Eddie than them. And yes, you should probably go home tonight before I drag you into bed and never let you leave.
(That had brought forth a whole new set of questions about ruts and knots and other things that tingled something hot in Eddie's groin. He's not sure how he managed to let Buck leave after that.)
Instead of waking up to that blissful joy and anticipation of a new relationship, though, he wakes minutes before his alarm in a cold sweat, shivering and overheated all at once. He can’t quite remember what he was dreaming about, but he knows Buck was there. The dream wasn’t bad, but he felt weird all over nevertheless — there was a buzzing, a twitching right at the base of his spine, somewhere deep in the marrow of his sacrum.
As he jumps in the shower and scrubs away the sweat, it starts to radiate from there, up his vertebrae and to the edge of his coccyx. He wriggles his hips to dispel the energy, but it sticks. He needs something (pressure, maybe) to soothe the way he feels like he might vibrate out of his skin. He turns the water burning hot, then freezing cold when it doesn’t help the ache. At least he can cool down while he washes his hair.
Unfortunately, that relief only lasts as long as it takes him to step out of the shower and towel himself off. The rough, worn fabric feels familiar against his skin, but not. It’s like he’s never taken the time to feel it, scratchy in that place between too rough and oh so perfect, just deep enough to get in there and press, squeeze, satisfy.
His cock is in his hand before he realizes it. He strokes himself fast and urgent. It’s not a want, or even much of a release, but it is a need. Somehow, this is the only thing that makes sense, some long-repressed instinct running haywire as he drops the towel entirely and pitches forward, bracing himself on the edge of the sink. His wet tip brushes against the cool porcelain of the rim, and he can’t stop the groan that rolls off his lips. It’s sogoodnotenoughpleasepleasepleaseBuck-
He spills over the drain with a deep shudder, thighs tensed tight as he milks himself through every last aftershock and then some. When he has the time, Eddie rather likes to stretch this part out, see how long he can keep the waves of pleasure flowing before it crashes on the shore of overstimulation and makes him pull away.
(He doesn’t really have the time today, but, well, it was another one of those needs.)
Today, he just gets hard again.
(He really, really doesn’t, is going to be late if he’s not out the door in five minutes, but he can’t seem to pull himself away, watching the mirror as he strokes slow and lazy for one minute. Two.)
“Fuck,” he pants, squeezing the base and trying to stop a pulse of pleasure from drawing more blood away from his brain. He needs to focus. Clothes. Bag. Keys. Breakfast can wait until the station.
Before that, though: remove hand from dick!
No one will ever appreciate the truly Herculean effort Eddie’s putting into getting to work on time. It takes every one of his well-defined muscles to disengage and every cell in his brain to get dressed and get out of the house, but he does it, damn it. His dick might still be hard and his face might be clammy and pale, but who cares, right? He’ll be fine. He always is. And if he’s not, Buck will know what to do. Buck always seems to know what to do in these situations. He just has to try not to spontaneously combust on his way into the station. Which, easy enough. He does it every day.
***
Oh, god, it burns.
Eddie’s not sure how he hasn’t combusted right here in the firehouse with how hot he feels. Sweat collects in the folds of his fresh uniform shirt, especially under his arms and at the back of his neck. The feeling of it cooling should be uncomfortable, but Eddie’s glad for it, glad for anything that could soothe the burning itch inside him even one iota.
“Late night?” A mug of coffee is placed in front of him, Hen looking down where he rests his head on the dining table.
“Something like that,” though Buck didn’t stay for long after he said his piece. Even though he waited up for Buck to text him that he’d made it home, Eddie was still in bed by a normal hour.
He lifts his head just enough to reach out for the drink and watches Hen’s face drop. “Or you’re coming down with something. You don’t look so hot.”
Despite himself, Eddie laughs weakly. “I wish that were the problem.”
Hen frowns. “Did you take your temperature this morning?”
Nope, sorry, was too busy getting off. Didn’t even cross my mind. “I was running late.”
“Wow, if only we had medical personnel around here that could do something about that!” Hen gives him a look and makes him follow her downstairs to the ambulance bay.
But then Buck walks in, and everything is a moot point anyway. Because Buck smells delicious, like the hands down best thing Eddie’s ever smelled in his whole entire life, sweet and spicy and musky and oh no, the itch is spreading, blossoming down his knees, twining up his chest, tugging his shoulders tight against his body and making his legs knock together.
He definitely should have called today in. Buck’s right in front of him greeting them, and Hen’s saying something back that makes him frown. Both of them turn to Eddie, who's leaning against the side of the ambulance with absolutely no idea what they’ve said or how he’s supposed to respond.
His placid stare seems to confirm whatever secret conversation they’re having.
Hen mumbles something else, and Eddie thinks he picks out Bobby’s name, but then they’re alone, him and Buck, and Buck takes a step closer.
Between one breath and another, Buck freezes, goes so rigid and silent that Eddie thinks his heart stops for a second. The only things moving are his pupils blowing wide. He knows, Eddie parses out. He knows what’s wrong with me. I knew he would. “Buck,” he starts.
“What the hell were you thinking, coming in for a shift like this?” Buck takes deep breaths, like it’s taking everything inside him to stay calm.
“Like you don’t do it all the time,” Eddie snaps. He’s miserable enough without being read a riot act.
The confusion reappears on Buck’s face. “All the time? What do you mean?”
“Come on, Buck,” Eddie scoffs. “Last time you were sick, you wouldn’t go home until Hen almost had to give you an IV for dehydration!”
“That’s different than this—“
“How?” Eddie knows his voice is rising, that he’s going to draw attention sooner than later, but he can’t stop. Everything inside him is tight and itchy and burning and it feels like the sharp swipe of his tongue is the only thing keeping him from losing it all.
“Because you’re not sick, Eddie!” For all Eddie raises his voice, Buck lowers his to a whisper. “I think I might’ve…well, you…I think you’re in heat.”
"W-What?" Eddie gasps, trying to think over the itch in his veins. The longer he stands here, the more it seems like he can feel every blood cell in his body scraping across the walls of his arteries and vibrating against one another. It doesn't help the fever scrambling his thoughts nor the nausea swirling in his gut. "But I'm not—"
"Maybe you weren't, but you are now." Buck snaps under his breath. His arms twitch like he's about to reach for Eddie, but decides against it at the last second. "Shit, Eddie, this is my fault. I swear if I had known I would have—"
"Known what?"
Buck opens his mouth to answer at the same time footsteps approach them, and Eddie watches his expression change in a split second. All the nerves and worry in his face disappear in favor of something like rage that makes Eddie cower, but before his body can react, Buck's turning on his heel and shoving Eddie behind him. "Back off," Buck growls at Hen and Bobby, and they stop in their tracks. Buck's been an Alpha for as long as he's been here, and he's never used that commanding voice on anyone before.
Hen holds up her hands in defense, but Bobby stills entirely. "We just want to check on Eddie."
"No," his voice is deep, raspy, but at least it doesn't sound like the inhuman growl he just released. Eddie knows he shouldn't find it hot, but it's like it cranks up his internal temperature another degree. "I can take care of him just fine."
"What is this, Buck?" Hen asks quietly.
Eddie reaches for the collar of his uniform, unbuttoning the top of it to give himself more air. Before he can drop his hands, Buck's head whips around, and all that fierce attention pins Eddie in place. "Don't. Just...don't. I'll take care of you in a minute."
Eddie's helpless to stop the shiver that runs down his spine and the whimper in the back of his throat. God, if he doesn't get some air soon, he might pass out. "Buck," he murmurs as quietly as possible, begging him to do something.
Buck closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, steadying himself. He doesn't turn away from Eddie when he speaks. "Bobby, he's presenting. I have to get him out of here."
Bobby stays silent. Hen, on the other hand. "Presenting?" At least she keeps her voice low. There's no one else in the bay close enough to hear them, but sounds travel up to the loft better than most would think. "I thought that only happened during puberty."
"It does, usually." Buck explains through gritted teeth. "The only exception is for made Mates. They present the first time they’re...involved with their Alpha or Omega."
"Made Mates? But—"
"Bobby," Buck groans. "Please."
Finally, Bobby unfreezes, grabbing Hen's arm and pulling her back a few steps. "They're rare; they have to establish a deep connection before that first contact, which most people don't wait for. I only know about them because I knew a couple in Minnesota." Buck's chest rumbles in some form of agreement, and Bobby nods. "I'll take care of finding replacements. Buck, get him out of here before—"
Buck's already in movement, dragging Eddie out of the firehouse so quickly that Eddie can barely keep up. "So we're Mates?" Eddie pants between breaths.
"Eddie," whatever rage possessed Buck inside is long gone, but his face is still tight and serious as he leads them to his Jeep. "I swear I'll explain everything, but I need you to not talk about it until we get to yours. Being out in public with you like this...it's not a good situation for anyone."
"Yeah, I'm not an idiot," Eddie musters up the last of his energy to snap back. Alphas and Omegas are uncommon, but by no means rare. He remembers learning about them in the very limited "abstinence education" he had in high school. He remembers being warned how possessive Alphas can be over their Omegas, especially if they were Mates, and especially before their first bonding. It probably took everything inside Buck not to go in on Hen and Bobby when they got too close to Eddie.
What he doesn't expect is the way Buck slams him against the side of his Jeep, somehow managing not to hurt him with his aggressive handling. "No, but you're my Omega, and I need you to work with me here. I am not letting our first time be in the station parking lot, but you're making it really hard for me to remember that right now."
At the mention of sex, Eddie shifts restlessly, his body smooth from the dampness of his sweat. "I'm, um, not opposed," he says quietly. He's heard how painful heats are without a partner, and if Buck fucking him right here and now will take the edge off the growing migraine in the back of his head, he'll take it.
Buck growls again; instead of being afraid this time, it only serves to boost Eddie's libido. "Damn it, Eddie. Get in the car." He whips open the passenger seat and bodily settles Eddie in, even going so far as to buckle Eddie's seat belt and test it before racing over to the driver's seat. "Just give me 15 minutes, okay? I'll do whatever you want when we're locked up in your house."
Whatever you want. Oh god, maybe the dampness slicking his thighs isn't just sweat. It's leaking out of him, thick and wet between his cheeks. He whines. He's never whined before in his life.
"What is it? Are you—" Buck's hands clench the steering wheel tight as his nostrils flare. "Just a few more minutes, Eds. Please."
This time, Buck doesn't stop him as he reaches for his shirt, unbuttoning it fully and yanking it off, leaving him in a sweat-stained LAFD tee. He fans his face with one hand and rests the other on his upper thigh, pressing on it just enough to relieve some of the pressure. "How long does," he rasps through a dry throat. "How long does this last?"
"Two or three days, give or take. It's, um." Buck swallows. "It might be longer since it's your first time. My first rut lasted almost a week."
"Fuck." A week of this? He's going to die. "I can't."
"You can. I'm going to be right with you the whole time." With effort, he removes one hand from the wheel and reaches across the dashboard, slowly enough that Eddie has time to deny him (as if he could ever deny Buck). His broad hand spread across the top of Eddie's open thigh, fingers reaching over the inner seam of his pants.
In some ways, it helps. The pounding in his head eases, and he instantly feels a little cooler.
In other ways, it just makes everything worse. "Yes," Eddie groans, legs spreading of their own accord. "Touch me. I'm so..."
"I know, baby, I know. We're almost home, and I'll take such good care of you, Eddie. Gonna make you mine."
And even though the seatbelt impairs his movements, there's not a force in the world that could stop his hips from thrusting forward at those words. "Please, Buck." He traps Buck's hand with his own and drags it further, letting Buck feel his straining hardness. "Need you."
"Hell," Buck pants. His hand squeezes unconsciously, and Eddie moans, loud and long, thrusting again and again. "Shit, baby. You're okay. I've got you. I've got your back, just like always."
That's all it takes to throw Eddie over the edge, sobbing as his thighs lock and he spills into his pants, into Buck's hand. Buck actually moves then, rubbing his palm up the length of Eddie's cock, hard, heavy pressure drawing every bit of pleasure out he can. Eddie's not sure if his eyes close or he loses his vision from the force of his orgasm, but when he can finally see again, they're parked in front of his house, Buck's key already in hand.
"You think you can walk?" Buck asks, voice wrecked. Now that he has a spare thought to look, he can see Buck's own erection tenting his work pants. Eddie salivates. "Eddie. Help me out here." he tries again.
"Yeah, yeah," Eddie answers breathlessly as shaky fingers search the floor of the Jeep for his shirt. He uses it to cover the wet spot at the top of his pants and opens the door.
His legs are shaky on the ground, but he manages the few steps it takes to clear the door. "Um," Buck's voice makes him pause. "You might want to wrap that around your waist."
Eddie turns, and a blush fills his cheeks. Buck's seat is a mess of slick, and his pants surely haven't fared any better. "Oh god, I'm sorry. I'll pay to have that cleaned, I swear."
Buck doesn't answer — not with his words. Dark, blown eyes watch Eddie's as two fingers run through the moisture on the leather seat, collecting a thin film of it and bringing it to his nose. He sniffs once, twice. "Just go inside, Eddie." His voice does that rumbly thing again before he sticks both fingers into his mouth and sucks.
For the first time since he left, Eddie is moderately thankful Chris isn't here, that he doesn't have to try and figure out childcare for the next few days or answer the awkward questions his son would surely have at the change in schedule. No, he can let his mind succumb and go deliciously, exceedingly blank as he makes a break for the house, only for Buck to meet him there, key already in the lock. He grabs the doorknob, but before turning it, looks at Eddie once more.
"You're okay with this, right?" Buck asks. "I know...I know it's soon. We haven't— haven't really talked about what this is yet. I don't have to be here if you don't want me to. Despite what just happened, I'm...I'm fine with taking things as slow as you need."
Eddie whines again, high-pitched and keening. "You don't want to?"
Buck's eyes darken again. "Eddie, I want this so much that there's every chance you're about to send me into rut. I can't...I can't hold back when I'm like that. And it can be a lot. This whole presenting thing is overwhelming enough, and I just...I need you to be okay."
The strength that got Eddie out of the car and up to his front door is waning, and he leans into Buck to make up the difference. "I don't think I can do this without you. It hurts, Buck, and you've already made me feel a bit better." He noses past Buck's shoulder, buries his face in Buck's neck, right where his sweat collects in the creases of his skin. "You said we're Mates, right?" Buck barely nods, like he's scared to move. "And you've got my back?" At that, Buck can't hold back the assuring growl. "Then I'm in. I want you to do everything to me."
The door groans open, and they tumble through together.
Eddie's not sure if the door closes behind them, but he's so beyond caring when Buck corners him against the first wall they come to and smashes their lips together. Even as Buck licks deep into his mouth, he continues. "Want you to touch me. Feel me—" he guides one of Buck's hands back to the front of his pants. He's pretty sure he didn't even stop being hard when Buck made him come. "Fuck me—" Buck's other hand trails around Eddie's hips and over the swell of his ass. Eddie throws his arms around Buck's neck and bares his own. "Claim me."
"Fuck, Eddie." Buck's voice breaks. "I said we would talk. You must have questions and I—"
"Can get answers later, when I don't feel like I might burn to death." He gives Buck another open-mouthed kiss. "I think that would be embarrassing for both of us."
Buck laughs breathlessly into his mouth, shifts his hands to run down the back of Eddie's thighs and relishes in the responding groan. "Okay, okay. Bedroom?"
"Please."
And Buck just...lifts him, wraps Eddie's legs around his hips and walks steadily down the hall as if it's not the hottest thing he's ever done. "Fuck," Eddie sobs, clenching the damp curls at the base of Buck's neck.
"So wet for me," Buck mutters to himself as his fingertips reach the damp spots on Eddie's pants. "Just gonna slide right in, gonna knot you so good and lick it all out of you." he babbles.
Eddie cries out, clenching around nothing as his back bumps his bedroom door open. Buck tries to drop him on the bed, but Eddie's not having it, clinging to him so he has no choice but to fall with Eddie and cover him with his full weight. Eddie's hips hitch in the minute space, tight and hot and providing the perfect amount of friction.
"Baby, baby," Buck pants, trying to keep his own hips from following the motion. "Let me get you out of these clothes first, yeah?"
Eddie groans in displeasure and bites Buck's bottom lip. "You said whatever I want, as soon as we got home."
"I know, I know, but I can make this even better for you."
"Don't want better," Eddie grip on his hair tightens, and Buck holds back a moan. "Wanna come just like this. Please. You smell so good." He uses the hold on Buck's hair to guide him in time with his thrusts, and within seconds, Buck gives in.
The force of their combined thrusts moves Eddie further up the bed (to the side of the bed? The details of everything that isn't Buck's body on his are a bit hazy at the moment). The remainder of his first orgasm eases the friction of their uniform pants, and Eddie shakes as he climbs the summit to a new peak. He's never felt like this before, like his libido might consume him alive and leave behind nothing but a pile of ash. Even without his direction, his body writhes underneath the firm weight of his partner, rutting against Buck like he's trying to find a way inside.
Too out of breath to continue kissing, Buck rests his forehead on Eddie's, those beautiful blue eyes alight as they stare into Eddie's. "You gonna come for me again?"
"Buck," he groans. It's the only word that makes sense to him anymore as his hips thrust up viciously, rubbing Buck's bulge into his own until their pants leak through from both sides. "Buck."
"Yes, Eddie. You move so nice for me. Come on, I wanna watch you fall apart this time."
It only takes a few more thrusts for Buck to get his wish, moving his hips in a slow, repetitive motion as Eddie cries out and spills between them. Little beads of white seep through his pants as his eyes roll back in his head, and Buck can't stop himself from sliding down off the bed and letting the taste meet his tongue. Eddie gasps, hips twitching against Buck's mouth.
"Can I take these off, now?" Buck asks breathlessly, tucking his fingers into Eddie's waistband.
Eddie answers by way of lifting his hips, and Buck doesn't hesitate to pull both layers down to Eddie's ankles and cleaning up the mess underneath with soft kitten licks. "Wait, wait, I'm not—" Buck pauses and looks up from between Eddie's legs as Eddie's eyes widen at his own still-hard cock. "Shit," Eddie breathes. "It's always like this?"
Buck shrugs. "More or less. First time's usually the hardest, though. You'll adjust...a little."
Eddie's not quite sure what about that answer has tears welling up in his eyes, but his hormone-addled brain can't stop them from falling. "Eddie, hey. It's alright." Buck is back in his face instantly, gathering up his shaking limbs and settling him in bed properly.
"How do kids do this?" Eddie asks as tears spill down his cheeks. Even after two orgasms, his body burns in fiery shock, radiating from his skeleton out.
Buck chuckles, wipes sweaty locks of Eddie's hair away from his face. "Their hormones are already going crazy. Plus, they have more energy. Actually, a lot of people in your position find their first couple cycles really difficult." He kisses Eddie's forehead. "I swear this isn't a line, but you'll feel better once I fuck you."
What would be general arousal slinking down his spine feels like a million volts of electricity in this state. "Then what are you waiting for?" he grits out.
"You were the one who wouldn't let me take off my clothes!"
"Well, that's over now. Get naked. Please, Buck."
Buck's already on his feet. "You don't have to ask me twice."
It takes Eddie the same amount of time to kick off his pants and peel off his shirt as it takes for Buck to strip fully. "Oh, holy fuck," Eddie moans at his first full view of Buck's body. He squeezes his eyes shut as another strike of lightning vibrates down his back.
"Okay?" Buck asks when Eddie rolls over and buries his face in a pillow.
"No," Eddie says, still crying. At least the pillow soaks up most of the evidence. "It hurts to look at you. You're so..."
"Hideous, I know." Buck deadpans, running broad hands over Eddie's back.
A little laugh forces its way through the tears, and Eddie feels Buck smile when he kisses the back of Eddie's neck. "Just the opposite. Hurry up and get inside me so I can look at you without killing myself with lust."
For that, Buck smacks his ass, and Eddie rolls his hips into the mattress with a whine. "Oh no, bring that ass back here." Buck says, pulling Eddie close by his hips. "Makes perfect sense you'd be my Omega, honestly. This ass was born to get tapped, you know."
"Oh— yeah, oh my god." All at once, Buck spreads Eddie's cheeks and licks a broad line up the exposed skin. "Fuck me," he groans, more to himself than Buck.
Still, Buck replies, "I just gotta open you up first, alright? It won't take long, with how wet you are."
"Buck!" Eddie clenches the sheets so tight he can hear them straining. "You gotta stop talking like that. Just until—"
"I know, baby, I know." he says, rubbing his thumb over the leaking hole. "Gonna take care of you now, okay?"
"Okay, please, I'm ready, just—"
He's not ready for the feeling of Buck reaching inside, searching the tight space with one thick finger. "Good, Eddie. Just relax around me. Perfect, that's perfect." he soothes. Gently, his free hand finds one of Eddie's and unclenches his fingers on by one until Buck can slide his between Eddie and the sheets. "Just squeeze me if it's too much, alright?"
"Uh-huh," Eddie sighs, positive that he won't need the out — even more positive when Buck slides in a second finger. "Yes," his voice breaks, and Buck gives his hand a quick pulse as he stretches them apart and draws them back together. "More, more please, I need..."
"Just breathe with me." Buck's body heat hovers over Eddie's bare back as he breathes against Eddie's ear, soft puffs of air encouraging him to exhale, then inhale. Eddie tries to visualize some of the heat escaping with his breathe. For a second, it works, then:
"Oh shit, right there, right there!" Eddie cries as his body pushes back on whatever miracle Buck's performing on him.
"Yeah, like that?"
Eddie can hear the smirk in Buck's voice, but he's too gone to care, babbling as Buck's finger rubs firm right there. "God, don't stop."
"Wouldn't dream of it," and then there's another finger right there, scratching that itch inside gloriously, making his pulse beat in tandem with every wave of pleasure. Slick leaks over Buck's fingers and dribbles down Eddie's thighs, over his balls and down the heavy line of his cock. "You're making such a mess, babe," Buck sighs reverently. "Can't wait to lick it all up when we're done. You taste so good."
"Buck," Eddie begs, fucking himself back even as Buck's thighs keep him from going anywhere. "I'm gonna—"
"Again?" Buck asks, a hint of awe making Eddie's cheeks redden. "Show me. Get all loose and relaxed so I can slide right in."
Eddie's hand yanks free of Buck's, scrabbling for his cock and moaning at the way he's lubricated himself with precome. Interspersed with their panting is a rhythmic schlick schlick schlick sound that Eddie only now realizes is him, is Buck using every bit of him to make it so good. He strips himself in time with the noise, and when Buck reaches down that last inch between them to nibble at Eddie's shoulder, his cock spurts painfully and he shouts into the pillow.
"Yes, baby. Beautiful," Buck breathes, easing him down with carefully aimed thrusts, his fingers avoiding that oversensitive part of him so Eddie can breathe again. He feels the top of his shoulders grow hot — a sure sign his own cycle is inevitable. The glands there only become swollen and tender when he's ready to mate. Eddie's are the same, lighter and less obvious, but it doesn't stop Buck from wanting to bite up every inch of them and mark Eddie as his.
As soon as he can, Eddie's rolling back over and hauling Buck in by the neck. "Done. Now do it." He wraps his legs around Buck's waist, pulling them together. "Slide right in."
Maybe it's just the budding rut in him, but he does.
He fucks in harder than either one of them expect, drawing out loud noises from the both of them. "Jesus, Eddie." Buck's hands clench Eddie's hips tight, holding him in place so they can both adjust.
But Eddie's whimpering beneath him, trembling like a leaf and squeezing his eyes shut tight as he mouths something that looks a lot like "yes, yes, yes."
Personally, Eddie's pretty sure he's submerged underwater, somehow. Everything around him is muted — Buck's incessant babbling, the damp sheets underneath him, the blankets he accidentally throws off the bed as he writhes against the only thing that matters: Buck, inside him, staving off the heat trying to consume him alive.
(Judging by Buck's expression staring down on him when he finally opens his eyes, his heat is not the only thing with that objective.)
"You good?" Buck asks, even though his face is growing red from the chest up as he struggles to hold back.
"Yeah, yeah, 'm good, Buck. You can move."
"Oh, thank god." And move he does. He pulls out slow and steady and rolls his hips on the way back in. Eddie arches his back as he does it again. "You're so tight; you take me so deep."
Eddie grunts something affirmative, feeling Buck so all-encompassingly he's been robbed of speech. How is it possible that it feels like Buck's in his throat? He doesn't take very long to question it, though; not when Buck shifts the angle and the head of his cock drags over Eddie's prostate. This is a different kind of fire entirely, the source of warm food on a winter night after a day in the snow. Eddie wants it closer, even as sweat pours down his brow and Buck licks it away. "Freak," Eddie teases breathlessly, but lets Buck shove the flavor into his mouth anyway as they kiss desperate and hungry. Buck's thrusts, irregular from the beginning, take up a steady pace as Eddie urges him faster with his legs and tilts his hips up for more.
"You'd be more convincing if — oh yeah — if I couldn't feel you leaking into my hand." Buck's mouth kisses sloppily down Eddie's jaw until it reaches his earlobe. "Or on my cock." The bed starts squeaking with their movements, and Buck tugs on Eddie's earlobe with his teeth as a strangled groan escapes his lips. Eddie bares his neck and lets Buck continue with his teeth and tongue across his damp skin.
Buck relishes it, stopping to take a few nips of Eddie's neck, his collarbone, his shoulders, his chest. He bites at the sensitive skin above Eddie's nipples and luxuriates in the way Eddie shivers below him. When he suctions his lips over the nipple proper, Eddie pushes his pecs further into Buck's face, letting him run his tongue over the tight bud again and again. "Shit," he jolts, trusting Buck to hold him in place as his body goes haywire. "Fuck me...fuck me so good, I can't..."
"You can, you can," Buck insists, kissing back up his chest so he can cover Eddie's face in love. "You're doing so well for me, Eddie. God, you're so hot, all laid out in front of me like a fuckin' feast. I'm not gonna be able to stop smelling you for days after this. Gonna smell like you. Like yours."
And then a growing ridge on the base of Buck's cock stretches Eddie's rim just a bit wider. Eddie trembles around the intrusion, a full body shiver as his eyes roll back in his head.
"Oh fuck, Eddie," Buck sobs, voice breaking like it does when he cries as he stands on his knees. "Can I knot you? Would that be okay?" he begs, fucking Eddie faster. It's almost one continuous sound, the screech of the bedframe below them, the slapslapslap of their skin colliding, the never ending whine stuck in Eddie's throat.
Up until this point, Eddie hadn't considered the foretold conclusion of all this, but his body clenches up at the thought, practically inviting Buck deeper inside. "Yeah, do it. You're gonna look so good when you come, dios mio. I want you like this all the time."
"Yeah?" Buck grits out between clenched teeth.
"Yeah." Eddie pants, shivering as the glands at Buck's shoulders redden sharply and the room fills deep and heavy with Buck's scent, muskier than before in a way that makes Eddie want to drink it straight. Buck's knot catches on the way in again, and his body compensates by growing even wetter. The sheets are going to be absolutely ruined after this. "Touch me?"
Buck shifts his weight so he's holding himself up with one arm, letting the other one slide between the heaving of their sweaty chests, nails dragging over Eddie's chest gently until in the span of another thrust, he finds his mark. "Like that?" he murmurs, lowering his head so their noses brush. He thrusts in hard and perfect once more before pausing, letting their foreheads touch.
"Buck, please." Eddie whines. The edge is inches away, his body tense and shaking as he clutches at Buck's back.
"I've got you," Buck says. As pleasure threatens to overtake him, he slides his hand down Eddie's length and rocks his hips so his now-trapped cock drags over Eddie's prostate. "Take what you need, baby."
"Need you," Eddie moans, trying desperately to fuck back on Buck as the knot locks into place. He buries his face in Buck's neck and mouths messily at one of the glands.
Some people would say it was the pheromones that had Buck instantly nodding and saying, "Yes. You have me. Take me." But this is Eddie, and Buck's finally coming to realize that there was never any other way for this to go.
Buck slips over the edge just as Eddie's sharp incisors sink into the inner edge of his collarbone, barely breaking skin before Buck's dislodging him to nose down Eddie's face and bury his teeth at the base of his neck as he comes, and comes, and comes.
Eddie shatters then, too, loud and laughing and crying and kissing as he clenches rhythmically over Buck's cock, squeezing around every bit of the knot. Eddie knows that's not why he used the username Firehose back in the day, but it's taken on a whole new meaning, now — he can feel his libido die down with every aftershock of Buck's orgasm filling him deeper and wetter. He thrusts slower against Eddie and laps at the new mark on his neck with lazy intent like it's all he can do, and Eddie relaxes, lets his body become a pillow between the mattress and the heavy, grounding weight of Buck on top of him. "Shit," Eddie whistles when his breathing finally resembles a normal pattern. "What the fuck."
"Mmhmmm," Buck murmurs into his skin. "You're incredible."
"I love you." Eddie blurts out.
"God, Eddie." Buck's hips twitch of their own accord and he nips around Eddie's gland. "You can't say that shit while I'm knotting you."
"Why not?" Eddie asks, enjoying the pleasant jolt of pleasure that runs through his spine with Buck's continued movements.
"Because I won't be able to stop knotting you," Buck gasps, grasping Eddie's hips to keep him still.
Eddie sighs, running a hand through Buck's curls. "That doesn't...Yeah, like that...that doesn't really sound like a problem to me right now."
"God," Buck groans. "How are we ever supposed to leave bed again?"
"Dunno," Eddie uses his other hand to tap Buck's chin and guide him back to Eddie's face. "Ask me again in a few days...maybe a week." he says before recapturing Buck's lips.