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“Oh, fuck.”
They’re past the point where that would be a gasp of passion, but Buck doesn’t need any clarification. He can tell what Eddie means from the gush that follows when he pulls out.
“Condom broke,” Eddie clarifies anyway, tone sheepish and tight. He frowns down at his flagging dick, the head a vivid pink as it pokes out from the curl of latex, bunched around like a second foreskin. He grimaces as he pulls it off, the mess spreading to his fingers as he flicks it in the vague direction of the trash in the corner.
Buck braces himself for the swell of anxiety, for his mind to go off a mile a minute with thoughts of clinics and blood and exposure protocol checklists. It never comes. There’s only the flush of embarrassment as he tries to clench his hole closed.
It’s Eddie. He trusts Eddie completely, intrinsically, as easy as breathing. There’s nothing to worry about. And even if there was, it’s nothing they couldn’t get through together.
He tries to lower his legs, needs to stretch out his knee before it ruins tomorrow, but Eddie’s grip stays strong and firm on the backs of his thighs. Buck cracks an eye open, and yeah, his idiot boyfriend’s gaze is caught between his legs, his lips parted slightly around each ragged breath.
This all is still fairly new, but Buck’s familiar enough to know this isn’t him cooling down.
He nudges him gently with his foot, gives him a knowing eyebrow when their eyes meet. Eddie snaps his mouth closed, the color in his cheeks deepening. “Shut up.”
Buck bites back against a laugh as Eddie finally helps him guide his legs down, rough hands soothing along his thighs as they settle around his waist. Instead, Buck smiles indulgently, squeezing his knees into his sides. “I didn’t say anything.”
They may have finally cleared the hurdle of Eddie letting himself want what he wants, but he’s still got a tight fist around anything beyond the general concept of ‘men.’ Or the specific concept of ‘Buck,’ which fills him with a warm fuzzy feeling he never wants to let go of. But Buck’s trying to encourage this exploration a little, and he can’t let himself pull too much focus.
So he rolls onto his stomach, arranging himself so Eddie is still kneeling between his spread legs, and cants his hips just so. And just like in the field, just like always, Eddie understands, follows his lead without missing a beat, putting those wide, rough hands on his ass and spreading him back open, letting himself look.
Buck lets his muscles relax, feels another dribble of come flow out of him and down his taint. Eddie sucks in a breath, loud in the quiet of the empty house. One of those hands moves to cup his balls, a thumb stroking through the spill, gathering up as much as it can before it’s pushed back inside his fucked-out hole.
He still feels tender, sensitive, but he doesn’t flinch away. It still feels so, so good. He feels the warmth start to build up deep inside again as his cock perks and thickens. They’ve been stuck in a constant, horny feedback loop for the past week, since their first time dry humping to completion on the couch. Since their first kiss only minutes before that. Since Eddie had finally looked at him, face naked of anything but pure want, and said his name like he was dying.
Buck honestly could not imagine being any happier than he is right now.
“Fuck,” Eddie moans, low and liquid as he pulls his thumb free, replaces it with two thick fingers that slide in easy and deep. He spreads them wide, opening Buck’s ass and just looking at the mess he’s made. A shiver goes through Buck that’s both a hot pulse of shame and an electric thrill of desire. It makes him spread his knees wider, tilt his hips further up, wanting, needing Eddie to take his fill.
There’s a soft, wet feeling along his rim as Eddie leans forward, lets his tongue lap its way inside. Eddie moans, the taste of his own come and the essence of his boyfriend swirling together beautifully. Or, that’s how Buck imagines it must be, as another bolt of pleasure zips along his spine. And he whines, can barely stop himself from shoving back against that slick warmth, all wet muscle and hot breath, begging for more more more more more…
“Fuck,” Eddie says again as he rips his mouth away. The hand on Buck’s ass disappears too, and he hears Eddie spit, then the wet sound of his hand on his cock, his erection back and demanding attention. Then his fingers pull free, are replaced by the hot, blunt press of more more more more more…
Eddie pushes in hard, quickly working up to the same brutal pace as before, like they had merely changed positions instead of coming once already. And fuck, it’s so good, so deep, the angle just right, that it barely even registers in Buck’s fuck-hungry brain.
“Eddie, you didn’t –“ he tries, but is cut off by the choked sound that forces its way out of him when Eddie slams against his prostate just right.
Eddie falters but doesn't stop, barely slows. “I thought…” He gasps and leans down over him, arms wrapping around his chest as he mouths at his shoulder. He roughly palms Buck’s pecs, getting a nice handful and squeezing until Buck whines again. “I mean, we’re already here, right?”
No, not right, Buck thinks. And this conversation is inevitable, just one that they should save for when they’re clothed and not drunk on pleasure or already balls deep. But the simple fact, there is nothing between us right now, is enough to make Buck shiver, to make him feel like he’s going crazy, to make him grind his hips back, desperate. Hungry.
Fuck it. They’re already here.
Eddie smears his lips up his neck in a mockery of kissing until he’s panting behind Buck’s ear. “You feel so fucking good like this, baby.”
God, if baby doesn’t still hit like a punch to the gut. But in a good way. Like how Eddie’s cock is punching him now.
“I already filled you up so good. You’re fucking dripping.”
Buck can feel it, Eddie’s come, coating his inner thighs, running down his ballsack. And the sound, the obscene squelch of Eddie jackhammering his cock into his well-used hole again and again and again, fuck, it should be disgusting. But it’s not, not at all. What it is is a thrilling reminder that Eddie’s inside of him. That part of Eddie’s going to stay inside of him.
“You ready for more?” Eddie’s voice is strained, his hips stuttering, rhythm lost. “You want it?”
Buck keens. He doesn’t want. He needs.
“Ask me.”
Buck doesn’t have to. Air catches in Eddie’s throat as he goes silent and still, but for the tremor that comes with his orgasm. He comes deep and deliberate and Buck swears he can feel every pulse.
He finally gets a hand under himself, giving his dick a few quick, tight strokes before he’s coming all over his fist, babbling, “Yes. Yeah. Yeah. Give it to me. It’s mine.”
He collapses then, Eddie’s full weight against his back, Eddie’s cock still pinning him in place. Buck can feel the sheets stick along his front, knows he should at least roll them over to the clean side of the bed, but he finds he doesn’t care. He wants to revel in how filthy he is. It makes everything feel so much more real.
When his brain starts working again, he lets out a little laugh. “Didn’t even have to say Please.”
Eddie stays quiet, and Buck wonders for a moment if he’s already fallen asleep. Then the arms around his chest tighten, just a gentle squeeze, and there’s a whispered breath at the base of his neck. “God, I love you.”
It’s not the first time for that, either, but it feels like it is every single time. Buck hopes that never stops being the case.
But instead of getting soppy, he laughs again. “You’re only saying that because I might be pregnant.”
“Okay, shut up,” Eddie says, hard enough to be a warning. But his hips grind forward despite himself, and he hisses at the over sensitivity.
Buck goes ahead and files that away for later.