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Buck is dragging his thumb over Eddie’s clit in long, steady strokes, and it’s good, it’s damn good, but it’s not—it’s kind of dry. And look, Eddie isn’t turned off. If he’s honest, he’s the most turned on he’s ever been in his life—but testosterone is a bitch, and he doesn’t get as wet as he used to, and it doesn’t spread around without a little help, but he can’t expect Buck to know that. Buck has slept with men and women, but never with a man like him before, and that’s fine.
It’s still good. It’s still great. It’s Buck, so it’s perfect, it’s just—the friction of his thumb over the hood is a little distracting, more than pleasuring, taking his mind away from the dizzying feeling of Buck’s thick cock fucking into him and filling him up.
Eddie’s whimpering, brows scrunched up as his head turns, pressing into the pillow. It’s fine, it’s not bad, not at all, it’s just not quite right, either. It’s fine. He can handle it. It’s still perfect. It’s still Buck.
Buck, who is touching his dick.
Buck, who is fucking him.
Buck, who told Eddie he was in love with him less than thirty minutes ago.
This is perfect. It’s perfect, even if it could, hypothetically, be better. Physically, at least.
“Hey,” Buck pants, his thrusts slowing but not stopping. “You okay?”
Eddie nods, dismissing his own discomfort and the concern, grinding his hips back. “Don’t stop.”
Buck’s thumb pauses, dragging over the tip of Eddie’s swollen dick, the pad of it pressing against the head of it. Eddie whimpers.
“I’ve never—with a trans dude. Am I doing it wrong?”
Of course, he knows. Of course, despite Eddie trying to push through it, like he always has with sex, Buck notices.
Eddie feels bad, feels like he’s ruining the mood, feels—guilty. Shameful. For being greedy. For being picky. It feels good. It’s objectively good. It’s with Buck, anything would feel good; he shouldn’t be so wrapped up in the specifics.
“Buck, it’s okay, just—” Eddie props himself up on an elbow, hand moving to knock Buck’s wrist away before guiding it by the wrist to rest on the outside of his thigh. “Don’t worry about it. Just fuck me.”
Buck’s thrusts come to a halt completely. Eddie groans, his pussy clenching around Buck’s dick, frustrated at the lack of movement.
Buck studies him for a beat. “Do you want me to not worry about it ‘cause you just wanna get fucked, or because you don’t want me to feel bad? ‘Cause I’m not gonna feel bad, Eddie. I-I wanna make you feel good.”
This is a lot of talking, and Buck is still nestled deep inside him, cock stretching him out. It's hard to focus.
“Tell me how to make you feel good,” Buck all but pleads. “Teach me.”
Eddie hesitates, throat working as he swallows thickly, then reaches out and wraps his fingers around Buck’s wrist. He guides Buck’s hand up, slipping his thumb past his lips. Buck’s pupils were already blown, but now the blue all but disappears.
Eddie doesn’t just suck on the digit—he lets spit pool at the corner of his mouth before hollowing his cheeks, working Buck’s thumb with slow, deliberate strokes of his tongue, slicking it thoroughly and lathering it with his spit.
“Fuck,” Buck exhales, watching, attention focused entirely on Eddie sucking on his thumb rather than the fact that his cock is hard and twitching, sheathed inside Eddie’s aching hole. It’s like he’s forgotten that completely, attention too rapt on Eddie.
Once he’s satisfied with its wetness, he pulls the thumb out, guiding it back between his thighs. He does the motion for Buck, dragging it over the head repeatedly and a little up the length before gliding it back down and over the head again. His lashes flutter, head tilting back at the direct contact with the sensitive tip. He feels himself clenching around Buck, hips squirming as he grinds against the contact in a way he hadn’t been when it’d been long, unfocused strokes while he pounded into him.
“Fuck, Eddie. You’re so fucking hot. Holy shit,” Buck whispers, taking over the movement himself, following Eddie’s instructions and guidance to a tee. Eddie drops onto his back, spine arching as Buck rolls his hips, cock dragging perfectly against Eddie’s walls.
“Fuck, it’s—it was dry. I—” Eddie explains. “Wasn’t bad, just—atrophy. Causes—holy fuck…” Okay, the whole talking thing is a lot harder now that Buck is thrusting into him slowly, tip to base with every long, steady stroke, as he works the tip of Eddie’s dick over with the pad of his thumb. Eddie feels his thighs twitching, body clenching around Buck as he grinds into him.
“Fuck, baby, fuck—” Eddie whines.
“Yeah? Better now?” Buck asks, thumb circling over the sensitive head. “Atrophy causes dryness, right? I read that somewhere.”
Eddie nods, a little dumbly, unsure of which question he’s even answering.
“Uh-huh. Fuck. ‘S—yeah. Yeah.”
Buck looks pleased with himself, pleased with Eddie, too. Like he’s proud of Eddie for correcting him. It smoothes over a decade-long ache in him; it feels like a gentle kiss pressed atop an old, unhealed bruise.
“Fuck, can feel you clenching around me, Eddie. Like you’re—fuck—trying to suck me in.” Buck’s voice is a little shaky, his hips picking up in pace, but his hand never falters. The spit only goes so far, and within a few minutes of fucking and stroking, despite the wetness of Buck’s pre mixing with Eddie’s own slickness, it doesn’t really reach his t-dick, and the friction is off again.
Eddie’s moans shift, less wanton, and Buck notices instantly, like he’s been watching for it. He slides his cock almost all the way out, just the fat head of it tucked inside Eddie’s hole.
“Can I spit on it?” Buck asks.
Eddie thinks his brain short-circuits. His eyes open, blinking a few times to clear his vision—fuck, is he crying? He hadn’t even noticed, too lost in the feeling of Buck guiding his cock in and out as he worked Eddie over. He’s never felt like that—so lost in pleasure, writing beneath someone, unaware of his own body, just the feeling of good, good, good.
“On your dick,” Buck clarifies.
Eddie tries to speak. He really does, but unfortunately, he looks up, and Buck is flushed from his cheeks down his chest in the prettiest shade of pink, looking eager and so sweet, and Eddie is struck dumb with how fucking hot he is, unable to form speech.
He just nods, short and desperate.
In response, Buck grins, boyish and crooked, and lifts his thumb. The head of his cock slips out, and Eddie clenches down around nothing, missing the feeling of his dick already. It’s been so long since he’s been fucked—months and months at this point, and he’s already mourning the feeling of being full and fucked, even though he knows it’ll only be for a moment or two while Buck gets his dick a little wetter.
Buck leans down, fingers splaying across Eddie’s sweaty inner thigh as he spreads them a little further, his other hand parts the lips on either side of Eddie’s dick, spreading it out for him, before he spits down onto Eddie’s clit.
It’s gross, objectively.
Eddie’s always found men spitting to be kind of gross to watch—but fuck, the fact that it is gross, and it’s filthy, and obscene, and it’s Buck only makes Eddie even more turned on.
His dick twitches under the saliva as it glides over the length of it, the pulsing likely visible to Buck’s watching eye.
Eddie doesn’t know what overtakes him. The spit is enough, but still, he hears himself quietly saying—or well, demanding, “Again.”
Buck’s eyes flicker up, catching Eddie’s own as his head lifts to watch. Buck’s fingers still keep him spread out, the thumb of his other hand smearing the spit over Eddie’s dick to spread it around as Buck’s mouth works, and then, while holding eyecontact, he spits right on Eddie’s sensitive, aching clit.
Eddie’s chest is heaving with every heavy breath, cheeks likely flushed and bright as he watches, mouth parted, as Buck’s eyes flicker down to watch as the spit drips over Eddie’s pussy.
Then, possessed by something filthy and shameful that he might hate later when he’s no longer horny out of his mind, he says, tone equally desperate and firm, “Again.”
Buck looks more turned on than Eddie has seen anyone in their entire life. Buck looks hungry for it. Starving. For this. For the fact that Eddie is asking for what he wants.
Eddie feels out of his mind just witnessing the expression, let alone when Buck does it again, spitting messy and filthy on Eddie’s pussy again. Eddie groans, head tossing back as he tries to get a grip and catch his breath, but he can feel Buck’s spit, cool and wet, dripping over his clit and down over his aching, blood-warm pussy, sliding a little inside his hole.
They hadn’t got around to Buck eating him out before they’d ended up here—much to Buck’s dismay (he’d whined when Eddie had dragged him up and told him to get in him. Eddie regrets that a little now), but in Eddie’s defence, he’d been desperate to have Buck as close as possible and to get Buck in him, like he’d been fantasising about for months—years, maybe. Right now, though, with Buck’s mouth hovering close, Eddie wants.
Fuck, he wants.
Desire wraps around his bones like ivy, squeezing around them with a marrow-deep want to have Buck’s mouth buried between Eddie’s thighs, tasting and licking at him till he’s falling apart. Eddie wants, and by the flickering flame of need that’s mirrored in Buck’s, he wants it just as bad.
“Can you—” He starts, fingers twisting into the sheets. He looks at Buck, who is waiting, so sweet and patient, eyes flicking between Eddie’s crotch and his face.
“Whatever you want,” Buck says sincerely when Eddie doesn’t continue. “Literally whatever you want, Eddie.”
It’s so unbelievably Buck. Eddie feels insane about it—about all of this. Desperation and arousal claw at his skin, wiping away every coherent thought he has, every shame he’s ever held, and he finds himself pushed up onto his elbows again, abdomen squishing a little at this angle, fingers sliding into Buck’s curls as he guides him those last half-dozen inches till Buck’s breath is a hot puff of air right against his pussy.
Buck’s eyes flutter closed, but Eddie’s don’t. He watches, rapt, as Buck’s tongue lolls out and sweeps through the now-soaked mess of him. A mixture of Eddie’s own wetness and Buck’s spit covering him, and Buck looks all so eager to taste them both. Eddie pushes him down the final distance, and Buck goes eagerly, mouth sealing around Eddie’s dick.
Holy shit.
“Fingers,” Eddie demands, a little firmer than he intends, his throat tight as Buck suckles at his cock.
Buck shifts his body quickly, refusing to dislodge his lips from around Eddie’s cock, sucking at the sensitive length as he gets an arm at the right angle so he can press Eddie’s thigh back a little further to give himself space to guide two fingers into Eddie easily. They push in through Eddie’s slick entrance without any resistance.
The muscles of Eddie’s thighs tighten, pulling taut as his body works hard to keep them spread to give Buck easy access. Buck uses his free hand to guide Eddie’s calf over his shoulder, and Eddie finds himself sweet and pliable under Buck’s guiding hands. He hooks his leg over Buck, heel pressing into his back as he grinds his hips in small circles against the sweet, warm wet of Buck’s mouth. He’s working the length over with his lips and tongue, taking advantage of the few inches T has gifted Eddie and worshipping every single one of them like it’s his life’s mission.
His fingers thrust in and out in even strokes, stuffing him full with every slide of his fingers. It’s less filling than his dick, but Eddie can’t really focus on that right now, too lost in bliss as Buck presses his face in, burying his mouth in Eddie’s pussy like there’s nowhere he’d rather be. After a moment or two, Buck pulls back, and Eddie gets a good view of just how much of a mess Buck is now. There’s wetness smeared from just below his nose down to his chin, slicking the swollen pink of his plush lips. He looks wrecked, his eyelids drooping heavily with lust and bliss as he stares down at his own fingers stuffing Eddie. He looks dazed at watching himself fill Eddie up, like he’s drunk on the vision of Eddie spread out on his fingers.
Buck pushes a third in and on the second stroke of them, spits messily onto his own fingers to ease the glide.
Eddie moans, the sound ripped from him, and Buck’s eyes flick up, mouth pulling up into a crooked smirk before he spits on Eddie’s dick next.
He feels out of his mind. Eddie is going to die here. Holy fuck. Does he have a thing for spit? Surely. Surely he does. Evidence this evening has proven that. Or maybe he’s got a thing for Buck. Anything Buck does would probably drive him crazy.
Eddie tugs at his curls, needily guiding him down again, and Buck’s eyes flutter at the sharp sting at his scalp, going eagerly where he’s guided and licking at the slick mess between Eddie’s thighs, focusing intently on his dick, keeping the swipes of his tongue repetitive and consistent. He buries his fingers in over and over, curling them just a few inches in and Eddie—
He is hurtled off the cliff before he even realises he’s close to the edge.
He’d been so lost in the sensations and the Buck of it all that he hadn’t even noticed his whole body was shaking, tears slipping down his temples as he grinded against Buck’s mouth and fingers. He comes harder than he’s ever come before, crying out Buck’s name as he feels himself fluttering around Buck’s thick fingers.
His vision goes white, the room lost to the burst of brightness as his whole body quakes and trembles.
Buck doesn’t stop. Well, his fingers don’t. He keeps thrusting them, pumping them in deep as his mouth pulls back a few inches after Eddie’s orgasm has crested.
He’s panting heavily, clearly out of breath from burying his face so fully between Eddie’s thighs.
“Can you go again? Like this?” Buck asks between breaths.
Eddie might die. Like this.
Eddie huffs a laugh. “I—Jesus Christ, Buck. Yeah. I think so.”
Buck licks a long stripe along Eddie’s sensitive, still twitching clit before pressing a kiss against his mons, right into the sweaty, dark curls of his pubic hair.
“Awesome. You can pull my hair a little more, if you want. I like it.”
He should’ve known it’d be like this, if he let it be—back and forth, easy—guiding each other on how to make them feel best. It’s never been like that. Eddie’s always been too worried about being too selfish, too greedy, always giving, but never asking for anything in return, but Buck—everything is different with Buck.
Buck is his best friend. Sure, in a different way than he always has been, now that he’s eating Eddiie out, but he’s still just his best friend. His best friend wants Eddie to show him how to be good to him, and to show Eddie how to be good to him right back.
Eddie nods, tugging testingly at the sweat-damp curls. Buck’s breath stutters, a pleased gasp escaping him. Fuck. Yeah. He can work with that.
He drags Buck’s mouth back down, guiding him by the back of his head to bring his back where Eddie wants—no, needs—him most. He’s oversensitive, normally ready to avoid all direct stimulation after his first orgasm, but fuck, he wants it. He wants to give it to Buck. He wants Buck to rip another orgasm from him, even if it pulls Eddie apart at the seams. He trusts Buck to put him back together afterwards, stitch by stitch.
“Focus—” Eddie pants, eyes fluttering as Buck’s hand grips tight around the thigh propped up against his shoulder. “Focus on the tip. Feels good. Suck on it like—like a dick. ‘S the same. Sensitive under the head, especially in—in the slit.”
Buck’s previous movements hadn’t been bad, far from it, but the times he’d hollowed out his cheeks and sucked or focused his tongue in the little slit right in the head had blown Eddie’s mind completely.
Buck nods minutely, enough that Eddie can feel the movement beneath his fingers and against him.
He follows the instructions easily and enthusiastically, worshipping Eddie’s dick like it’s his last meal, devouring it with everything he has. Eddie doesn’t hesitate to pull on Buck’s hair, using it as leverage to grind back against him, unable to keep his hips still, and Buck doesn’t hesitate to show his appreciation for the tugging, moaning prettily against and around Eddie’s dick, sending vibrations and sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine.
Despite the fact he’s so sensitive that his nerves feel aflame, his vision a little blurry, when he looks down at Buck, he realises that Buck is shifting a little, his hips rolling like he’s—
“Fuck, baby,” Eddie moans. “You humping the bed?”
Buck groans against Eddie’s pussy, nodding as he sucks on his dick. He dips down, lapping at the wetness just above his fingers, his wrist never slowing as he pumps his fingers in and out. He takes a gasping breath, pressing a kiss to the lip beside Eddie’s dick. “Yeah. Sorry,” He says, a little sheepishly. “‘S just good. Could live down here, Eddie.”
Buck sounds fucked out and so—syrupy sweet, like he’s lost in pleasure, lost in fucking heaven, rather than just lost between the space between Eddie’s legs.
He’s the hottest thing Eddie has ever seen in his entire life.
“Jesus Christ, Buck, don’t apologise,” Eddie scolds lightly, tugging a little unkindly at his curls. “It’s hot. Just don’t come. Want it in me.”
Buck groans, face pressing into the sensitive skin of Eddie’s inner thigh as he fucks his fingers in harder, curling them just right. “Yeah?” He asks, the question murmured against the hairy inside of Eddie’s thigh. “Want me to come in you?”
Eddie forcibly tilts Buck’s head using his hair so their eyes meet. “Yeah. Sometime soon, hopefully. So, get back to work, Buckley.”
Where he’d normally feel shame and greed for nudging Buck to focus up on this, instead, he feels burning arousal at the control, a fire that’s only fanned and growing as Buck nods dumb and sweet, kissing Eddie’s thigh quickly before racing to get back to work.
It doesn’t take much more to get Eddie there a second time. The pleasure is so blinding that it kind of hurts, his sensitive tip worked over with such thorough attention that he fights the urge to press Buck down hard, suffocating him in there as he creeps closer and closer to—
“Fuck, Buck, Buck, Buck—” He calls out, chanting like a prayer, his heel pressing into Buck’s back as his hips grind upward. “Right there. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop. So good. Fuck. It’s so good. You’re so good. Gonna—gonnagonna—”
Buck doesn’t change his movements, not in the slightest, and Eddie is so grateful for it. The repetitive strokes of his fingers and tongue in sync, dragging him shaking and twitching, over the edge again. His spine arches, thighs tightening around Buck as he rides Buck’s fingers, coming messily over them. He can feel himself gushing over them, coming even harder than he had the first time, wetness spilling from his hole and over Buck’s digits.
Buck is moaning against him, and judging by the shifting of his body that Eddie can feel, he’s still grinding his wet, hard cock against the sheets. He’s so hot. He’s the hottest thing Eddie’s seen in his entire life.
Once his orgasm has eased, he tugs at Buck’s hair to get him to stop. Apparently, a little lost in it, Buck doesn’t pull back at first, still working Eddie’s clit over with his lips and tongue, flicking his tongue right over the head of Eddie’s dick over, and over, and over.
Eddie whines, oversensitive and overstimulated, tugging harsher.
“Enough,” he huffs, “Buck, enough.”
Buck pulls back, blinking like he’s dizzy, mouth soaked. “Fuck, sorry, I—” He blinks a couple more times. “You taste so good. S-So good. Holy shit.” He drags his fingers out slowly, and Eddie can see under the lamp light just how wet his hand is. His three fingers are soaked, wrinkled a little at the tips, and slick is dripping down Buck’s wrist. Buck spreads his fingers a little, and clear, slick connects them in thin lines, snapping as he spreads them even further.
Eddie feels himself flush with embarrassment, warmth spreading across the back of his neck. “Fuck, I’m—Jesus. You’re a mess. I’m sorry.”
Buck sits up more, his cock glistening just as shiny under the light as his fingers. “Do not apologise. Holy fuck, Eddie. You’re so—fuck. You taste so good. You’re perfect.”
A long line of wetness drips down Buck’s wrist, and his tongue darts out, licking it up before it swipes over his fingers too, easily cleaning up all of Eddie’s mess.
Okay.
It should be illegal to be that hot. Eddie is struck by the thought that it’s his come all over Buck’s fingers, that Buck is cleaning up his mess as it drips all over him. He flushes darker, squirming a little in his spot.
Buck catches his eye, grinning wickedly as he sucks a couple of his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them off completely before dragging them out, wiping his chin off and smearing the mess onto the sheets instead.
“You wanna go again?” Buck asks, and Eddie—holy shit. How long would Buck stay down there? How many orgasms would he drag out of Eddie before he was satisfied? Before it was enough? Would it be past the point where his jaw ached? Would he push through the pain just to pull another orgasm out of Eddie?
Another day, Eddie will figure out just how long Buck will go for.
For now, though, today, he lifts his shaking body up, grabbing Buck by the back of his neck and dragging him in for a kiss.
He’s never really tasted himself before, but mixed with the unique taste of Buck and his warm mouth, it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. He sighs sweetly against Buck’s lips, and Buck smiles softly into it, hand gliding over Eddie’s strong thigh.
“You’re gonna fuck me,” Eddie murmurs as he breaks the kiss, “And you’re gonna come in me. Maybe after you can—” Eddie swallows thickly, hesitation and shame rearing its head now that he’s a little less lost in it. “Go again. If you want.”
Buck looks like he’s just won the lottery. He grabs at Eddie’s thighs, tugging and dragging him till he’s back down on his back, thighs splayed.
“I’ll want, trust me,” Buck says, wrapping Eddie’s thighs around his waist before leaning down, burying his face into Eddie’s neck, mouthing at the skin there. “I wanna eat my come out of you after. If that’s cool.”
If that’s cool.
Eddie has a response on the tip of his tongue, but then Buck’s hand is guiding the tip of his dick to Eddie’s entrance, gliding through the wetness, and his words get lost completely. He taps the head against Eddie’s hole a couple of times teasingly, and then he pushes in. Eddie’s hands clasp Buck’s shoulders, nails biting into the flesh there. His head tilts a little backward, mouth parted on a gasp as Buck pushes in, in, in till he’s buried to the hilt.
Buck continues mouthing at Eddie’s neck, letting Eddie adjust to the fullness, before pressing a closed-mouth kiss against the spot where his shoulder meets his throat. “‘M not gonna—last long. But I can get it up again in like—e-eight-ish minutes. If you want to go again.”
Eddie’s never come more than twice during sex. Never in his entire life. And the second time has only ever come knocking once before, and here Buck is, ready to keep going, and going, and going till both of them come over and over.
Eddie feels addicted to it—exhaustion is a thought that can’t even cross his mind. He kinda wants to stay here forever.
Eddie shifts his arms so his nails can dig into Buck’s shoulder blades, nails dragging across the skin. “Don’t care. Just make yourself feel good. Fuck me.”
Buck whines into Eddie’s neck, rolling his hips. His thrusts are quick—sloppier and more desperate than they’d been the first time he’d slid in, like he can’t help himself. The pleasure seems to be overwhelming him, noises spilling endlessly from Buck as he pumps his hips.
Eddie feels loose and lost in it, blissed out and sensitive as Buck fucks into him.
There’s slight friction against his dick as Buck fucks into him, and it’s almost too much with how overstimulated he feels after already coming twice, but while the line between pleasure and pain is thin, it feels good to ride it, to ride this out while Buck thrusts into him like it’s the tightest, best thing he’s ever been inside.
“Fuck, E-Eddie, so fucking—feels so fucking good. ‘M gonna—” He mumbles, a little incoherently, syllables and consonants slurring together.
“Yeah, Buck?” Eddie breathes out, making little uh uh uh noises intermittently as he speaks. “Gonna come in me? Gonna fill me up?"
Buck nods into his neck, whimpering. “Gonna fuck it into you, E-Eddie. Wanna fill you up with me. Wanna make you take it. Fuck. Y-You feel so fucking good. Best I’ve ever—fuck. I’m ... Eddie. Eddie, Eddie—” His voice gets higher as Eddie’s name repeats on his tongue, mouthing coming to a halt as his hips speed up, the only noise filling the room their combined moans and the slick slap of sweaty skin against skin. It’s obscene, it’s loud. It’s so damn hot.
“Can I—?” Buck chokes out, and Eddie digs his nails into Buck’s shoulder blades, dragging them down and leaving red, hot welts in their wake as Buck fucks into him just right. He thinks, if Buck did this for much longer, he’d have a third orgasm ripped out of him just like this, without a hand on him—but he’s not focused on that, he wants Buck to come undone, to fall apart and spill inside Eddie.
“Come in me. Buck, c’mon, baby—come in me.”
Buck comes with a sob, thrusting in sharply a few more times before he comes to a pause, buried all the way inside of Eddie, pumping rope after rope deep inside him. Quietly, he thinks he hears Buck murmuring thanks and endless, sweet praise as he spills into him.
Eddie guides his fingers through Buck’s curls, scratching gently at his scalp as Buck whimpers into his neck. Minutely, his hips start shifting again, like he’s trying to fuck his come even deeper into Eddie. Eddie can feel it, the hot, slick warmth of it easing the way of Buck’s cock fucking into him shallowly. There’s no real goal in it, just desperate little rolls of his hips, sloshing the hot come around inside Eddie’s pussy, fucking it in while Eddie writhes in pleasure beneath him.
It comes to a halt after a moment, Buck’s weight collapsing almost entirely against Eddie. Eddie welcomes the pressure and bulk of Buck pushing down on him. He keeps his legs wrapped around him, effectively pinning him in place. Buck is panting hard against his neck, face pressed against the sweat-glistening skin there. His cock begins slipping out as it softens. Buck’s hips shift, allowing it to ease out completely without him having to move too much. Eddie can feel his spend dripping out of him, but he doesn’t mind the feeling—likes it if anything. They can deal with the mess the sheets will be later.
Eddie smiles, staring up at the ceiling, stroking his fingers lovingly through Buck’s hair. “Love you,” Eddie murmurs after a beat.
It’s not the first time he’s said it—but it’s only the second, hesitation curls around the edges of it, but he pushes it out anyway. Because he means it. Because it’s true. Buck stills against him for a second, muscles tightening before going lax once more.
Buck drags himself up, looking at Eddie through teary eyes. “...Say it again?”
Eddie cradles his cheek gently. “I love you.” He presses a kiss to his swollen mouth. It’s chaste, compared to every other kiss they’ve shared, but just as sweet. Just as perfect.
The tenderness of his overwhelming emotion aches in his chest, sharp and deep, like a thumb pressed into a bruise.
Teasingly, Buck grins, his voice pitched a little like a moan as he says, “Again?”
Eddie rolls his eyes, and the hand cradling Buck’s cheek shoves his head a little to the side. “Never fucking you again. Asshole.”
“Nooooo, c’mon,” Buck whines, ducking his head so that he can kiss Eddie again, sweet and lingering, before pulling back. “I love you. I love you so much. Fuck, Eddie, I—” He rests their foreheads together. “You’re it for me, man. I mean it.”
The words are heavy, but they settle light as a feather in Eddie’s chest, tucking in like they were always supposed to be there. Nothing has ever made more sense than this. Eddie is it for Buck. Buck is it for him. They’re two halves of the same whole.
Eddie’s eyes flutter closed. “Yeah. Me too.”
Buck is all but sitting in Eddie’s lap now, body half lounged against him. They rest like that for a beat, then Buck’s fingers start trailing up and down Eddie’s forearm. “Mind if I uh—” He ducks his head, kissing Eddie’s jaw. “Clean you up? With my mouth?”
Eddie feels himself blushing. He tilts his head, letting Buck’s mouth wander further down his neck. Buck continues down, kissing at the glistening, sensitive skin there. “Yeah, Buck. Clean up your mess.”
Buck groans into Eddie’s neck at the permission, kissing down his throat, then his sternum, descending till his face is buried back between Eddie’s thighs. Eddie relaxes against the sheets, eyes fluttering closed as he tugs at Buck’s hair, melting as his tongue laps at Eddie’s hole, coaxing his own come out of him.
Yeah. This is—it’s better than good. It’s the best.