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They don’t make it very far.
The desert is a blur out the window as miles pass, Eddie stealing glances at the passenger seat whenever he can. Buck is quiet. It’s not that he’s never quiet, it’s just that they’ve been living out of each other’s pockets long enough for Eddie to know what a good quiet feels like versus a bad one. He can’t quite seem to stop checking, watching for any sign that Buck—
“Eyes on the road, cowboy.”
“Shaddup.”
“I kinda don’t feel like having two car accidents in one week is all.”
“I kinda feel like you should be resting right now instead of backseat driving.”
“Maybe I would if it wasn’t for this country twang you’ve got going.”
“What’s the line you and Maddie are always quoting from that show you like?” Eddie turns up the radio, eyes trained on Buck because he knows there’s nothing but empty two lane blacktop ahead of them.
Buck rolls his eyes. “Driver picks the music—“
“That’s it.” Eddie snaps his fingers. “Shotgun shuts his cake hole.”
It’s only an hour before Eddie starts to ache so fiercely that no amount of adjusting eases it. Potholes that seem to proliferate as they make their way down the highway make the pain on Buck’s face undisguisable by hour two. Still, he protests when Eddie pulls into the least-objectionable motel he’s seen in miles.
“You need to rest, bud.” Eddie says when Buck’s insistence that he’s totally and completely fine dies down. He says it softly, like everything he’s said to Buck since kneeling in the dirt beside him yesterday. The air around them feels fragile, like if Eddie speaks too loudly it’ll shatter and Buck’s eyes will shut again, leaving Eddie there to beg and plead and scream his name.
Buck’s scraped and bruised and scarred deeper than Eddie remembers him ever being. Not even after going ten rounds with a tsunami. It amplifies every hit to Eddie’s own injured body, the ache to pull Buck in and keep him safe nearly unbearable alongside all the other aches. “Stay here, I’ll grab us a room.”
“Eddie, you’re just as banged up as I–”
Eddie closes the door before Buck has a chance to argue any more. Neither of them should be here, but it’s not the same. It just isn’t.
Inside, the clerk gives him an unimpressed once-over as he hobbles his way to the front desk. She can’t be very far north of sixteen, and Eddie recognizes that bland annoyance of a teenager getting interrupted in her curt, “help you?”
Eddie flashes her a smile, force of habit that does nothing for him here. “Got a room for tonight?”
She glances around him, peering out the window at Buck leaning against the hood of the beater, looking pissy and exhausted. “King?”
Eddie almost responds, poised to ask for two queens, before his stomach rolls at the idea of Buck being that far away. At least in the same bed, Eddie will be able to hear it if he stops breathing. There’s still internal bleeding to watch for, not to mention that Buck only just got the clearance from his cardiologist who certainly wasn’t anticipating his patient getting shocked with a cattle proud so many times that–
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
The clerk pulls her lips in. “I’m sure.”
Buck glares when Eddie doesn’t let him shoulder either of the duffles, but Eddie wasn’t the one who’s been electrocuted recently, so Buck can stow it. Eddie doesn’t mind carrying them, even if it does take him way too long to get in the door, his beaten body protesting every step. He won’t be watching Buck take on more pain if he can help it.
The room itself is nothing special, but it’s not nearly as gross as Eddie expected. The linens on the bed look clean and there’s no disturbing smells that assault them as they make their way inside. There’s a dinette and a dresser where Eddie sets their bags, and a light on in the bathroom alcove. Two sinks sit in the vanity along the back wall with the shower and toilet tucked off to one side. A quick peek at the shower reveals that even that is serviceable, and Eddie’s pulse settles with the fact that he did okay. Buck will be able to rest here.
“Shower?” He turns to see Buck still in the doorway, gaze fixed on the bed. He doesn’t respond. “Too tired?”
Buck starts like he forgot Eddie was there. “Um, what?”
Eddie’s heart rate kicks up again. He’s not– this isn’t– Buck is just standing there, obviously in pain, looking like he can’t quite believe where they are right now.
“I’ll wash your hair for you.” Eddie offers, and fuck but this one sounds even more pleading and pathetic, staining his cheeks pink.
It’s obvious and bleeding, but it’s what Buck always does for him when he’s down for the count. They absolutely got made fun of over it, even though it’s no easy feat to raise your arms above your head when you have a bullet hole through one shoulder. It was mortifying, sure, but it was also the only time he felt peace during those weeks of recovery.
Eddie just wants some peace for Buck.
Buck looks at him, steady and calculating, not at all how he looked out there in the dirt and sand, delirious and grinning up at Eddie despite the fact that he could barely keep his eyes open. Yeah, sure, Eddie’s ‘just as banged up’ as he is. Eddie wasn’t in a cage, drugged and forced to perform.
The sun has almost completely dipped below the ridge in the distance, but it’s not so dark that Eddie can’t see the way Buck’s expression softens. “Eddie.”
“We don’t have to.” Eddie tries, turning back to his duffle. Maybe if he looks away his blood will stop pumping like he’s still wandering the desert screaming for Buck. “We can just order a pizza, see if this dump has cable.” His voice is tight and hoarse no matter how hard he tries to soften it this time.
“Eddie, I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not!”
The explosion startles them both, shattering that fragile air, and Buck quickly steps further into the room so he can shut the door behind them. Eddie couldn’t give a fuck who hears him. “You’re not fine, Buck! You’re fuckin– bruised and battered to all hell!” He’s getting closer, getting up in Buck’s face and pointing at him, his body moving without consulting him at all. “You could have died! Don’t you get that? When are you gonna get it through your thick fucking skull that you’re not goddamn disposable?”
It’s not fair. Eddie knows it’s not fair even as he yells it. Buck didn’t get them into any of this. Buck should yell back, clock Eddie for being such an insensitive dick. Buck fought to get back. He saved Eddie’s life every bit as much as Eddie tried to save his.
“Eddie. Look at me.”
Look at me, Buck! Look at me, Buck! You’re gonna be okay.
Buck hasn’t backed down, only getting closer still. He’s ducking his head and looking up through his lashes. It’s the face that begs Eddie to tell the truth. Breaks down every defense. “You were going to die.”
“I’m alive.” He says slowly. “I’m here with you. I promise, I’m gonna be okay.”
He’s so close now. Close enough for Eddie’s hands to have a mind of their own, unable to hold back despite that desperate, clawing fear that always steps in during moments like these. They shake as his fingers slide around to the nape of Buck’s neck, his thumbs landing just shy of Buck’s ears, cradling his jaw. Now that he’s looked, he can’t look away.
“You’re hurt.” The tears threatening to spill don’t shy away from creating a harsh rasp in his voice when he tries to swallow them back. “I was angry. I- I could’ve done something. Seen something.”
“Eddie.” Buck chides. He doesn’t pull out of Eddie’s grip. “There’s no fucking way you could have seen any of that psychosexual bullshit coming.”
“I should have eaten when you told me to.”
“Probably.”
“I was angry.”
“You were anxious. And grumpy.”
“I shouldn’t have been.”
“You’re allowed to be.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
Like this, Eddie can feel Buck’s pulse against his palm. He’s resisting the urge to count its steady beats as they stand there, quietly drinking each other in. He can feel it speed up when he whispers, “Buck.” He can feel it jump when he surges up and kisses him.
Buck freezes, and for a second Eddie’s doused in cold dread. Haven’t they both been–? isn’t this–? All at once, Buck comes alive, kissing Eddie back like he needs it to breathe.
Eddie’s knees threaten to buckle, but he keeps going. It’s all he knows how to do. It’s what got them both here now.
“I’m here.” Buck swears in between brushes of chapped lips. “You’ve got me.” A slide of his tongue that Eddie will think about for the rest of his life. “I’ve got you.”
There’s salt on Eddie’s tongue when he promises right back, “I’ve got you.”
There have been too many detours. Neither of them ready for the clarity of following the road where it was always going to lead. Eddie can’t do anything about all those times he swerved, but he can choose not to take the exit this time.
He reels Buck in, nipping at his lower lip. Buck groans into his mouth, but it doesn’t sound like pain. His hands land around Eddie’s waist, and god it hurts to be touched so close to that bruised rib, but he couldn’t care less. The pain is clarifying, drawing every sensation in stark relief. The rasp of stubble on Buck’s jaw, the slick glide of his tongue in Eddie’s mouth, the scream of his calves where he’s up on his toes to reach Buck’s lips. It’s all comingled into a wash of bright pleasure-pain.
They’re so broken, but Eddie doesn’t want to take this slow. He wants to make up for lost time. He wants to bite and fuck and claim because Buck is his, goddamn it. They’ve belonged to each other since the beginning. God fucking help anyone who tries to break that bond.
“Tell me.” Buck gasps, kissing Eddie’s neck wet and sloppy. “Eddie–”
“Yes.” Eddie grunts before Buck has to waste any more time talking.
Buck whines like he’s been waiting to hear that all day, backing towards the bed and tugging Eddie along with him. He winces as he crawls back onto the mattress, dragging Eddie on top of him as he leans against the headboard.
Buck is hot and hard underneath him, his light grey sweats leaving little to the imagination on a good day. Eddie’s hips buck in response, making him hiss as his stitches pull against his skin.
“Lemme see.” Buck prods, slipping both hands under Eddie’s hoodie and pushing up until Eddie meets him halfway.
Once he’s bare, Buck’s hands are everywhere, skating over warm skin and hovering over wounds. His mouth follows, careful to avoid the breaks in skin and laving his tongue everywhere else. When he reaches the stitches, he pauses. “Hurts?”
“Like hell.” Eddie gives him a wry grin. “You gonna show me yours now?”
Buck rolls his eyes, but he can’t keep the smile off his face. “That was bad.”
Eddie frowns, exaggerated. “Kick me out of bed bad?”
Buck reaches up for a kiss that’s more teeth than anything. “Not on your life.”
His hands find Eddie’s hips, encouraging him to roll them down. As much as he hurts right now, Eddie wouldn’t trade the feeling of Buck under him right now for anything.
He can’t remember being this hard from a bit of kissing and touching like this since he and Shannon were fooling around in the dugout after baseball practice. His mind races, tripping over every filthy thing he’s ever thought or heard of, barrelling towards disaster. He wants Buck’s mouth on him. He wants Buck to rut against him until they both come. He wants Buck inside of him so badly he can almost taste it.
Buck looks up at him with fever-bright eyes, that expression that says he’ll do anything to please. So much power coiled up underneath and around Eddie, placed in his hands like it’s not fragile and precious. He’s dizzy with it, unsure how much of it is due to what he’s put his body through and how much is just Buck.
“Fuck me.” It’s out of his mouth before he can think better of it. “Buck, will you–”
“Eddie,” Buck grits out like it’s all he can do to hold back.
Eddie doesn’t want him to hold back.
He grinds down into Buck’s lap, shivering when Buck responds in kind, mouth latching on below the bolt of his jaw to suck hard. His teeth worry the skin, working on what is bound to be a spectacular bruise to go with all of Eddie’s others. This one, though, he plans on cherishing.
He works at Buck’s sweater, needing to see every inch of skin. Jesus, the bruises littering Buck’s body are so much worse. Eddie can see the remnants of electrical burns, the lacerations from the crash, contusions in mottled, angry purple. A surge of pride rushes through Eddie’s veins at how hard he fought, how hard he tried to get back.
“Stuff.” Buck breathes when he pulls himself away from the canvas he’s making of Eddie’s throat. “In my bag.”
“Don’t need it.” Eddie insists. He can’t fathom getting up right now, giving up the skin and warmth. Buck can– “Just–” He’s cut off on a moan when Buck’s teeth make their way to a nipple next, tongue flicking over it until the sound he makes is more of a keen. He’s leaking, making a mess of his sweats and far closer to the edge than he has any right to be. “Buck,”
Buck yanks at the waistband of Eddie's pants, releasing his hold only long enough for Eddie to get rid of them and then Buck’s own. When he settles back in Buck’s lap, everything is hazy with pleasure, his muscles screaming as he rolls his hips into Buck’s. The air undulates in shimmering ripples, reflecting in Buck’s bright blue eyes.
Everything is brand new. The pull of Buck’s skin under Eddie’s sharp canines, the sheer spread of Eddie’s knees that’s necessary to cage Buck’s hips between them. The thick length of Buck’s cock against his ass, making Eddie gasp and his mouth water. Save his own, he can’t say he’s ever thought about anyone’s cock in detail, but now? Now Eddie has a favorite.
Pain blooms under Buck’s hands as they find Eddie’s waist again, and his cock kicks against the bare skin of Buck’s soft stomach. Fuckfuckfuck. “Buck,” he says again, like it’s the only word he knows.
“Yeah?” Buck answers, lips trailing over Eddie’s collarbone. “Want me inside you?”
God, it’s all Eddie wants. Years of denying himself anything more than chaste hands and loaded looks have made him desperate for every part of Buck he can get. His right hip aches, pain shooting down his thigh, and Buck can barely rock his hips up to meet Eddie’s and still it’s all he wants. Close, close, closer. Buck beneath him, heart beating fast but steady, alive and warm and only better if Eddie could feel it inside of him, too.
“Want you everywhere.” He admits, lost to the feeling of skin on skin.
“Give you whatever you want.” Buck promises, thrusting up through the cleft of Eddie’s ass while he helps Eddie grind into his stomach. “Open you up nice and slow, get you wet and begging and desperate for me.”
Eddie whines, unable to do more than feel the hair on Buck’s torso against the sensitive head of his dick, unlike anything he’s ever done before. “Don’t wanna wait.”
Buck’s chuckle is cut off by a grunt of pain that follows a dirty roll of his hips. It makes Eddie impossibly harder. Greedy for more of that life, he wants every noise Buck will give him. He ducks his head to bite at Buck’s neck, drawing blood to the surface and getting another groan along with it.
Buck manhandles him, adjusting so that his next rut has him brushing over Eddie’s hole. Sweat and precome make it just this side of dry, Buck’s cock leaking like a faucet as they move together. Everything is hot and thrumming and real, haze fading away as the pain gets more and more distant.
“I-I’m so–”
“Yeah.”
“Eddie, I lo–”
“I know, me too.”
The cut on Eddie’s cheekbone opened up at some point, the one over Buck’s eyebrow, too. There’s just a hint of metallic tang in the panting, sloppy kiss they’re tangled in as Eddie tips over the edge, Buck following just seconds later. It’s real and raw and grounding, Eddie painting Buck’s stomach and chest, Buck making a mess of Eddie’s ass and the sheets below them.
Buck falls forward, forehead against Eddie’s sweat-slicked chest. He pants, warm breath over skin, and it’s like the final sign Eddie needs to relax into it. His arms wind around Buck, mindful of all the sore spots, his lips finding Buck’s hairline.
He might not know it yet, but Buck will be fucking lucky if Eddie ever lets him out of his sight again.
The pain comes back in waves, locking Eddie’s joints until he can’t stand the ache in his hip even for the sake of being wrapped entirely in Buck’s arms. Mercifully, Buck does allow the shower. He even lets Eddie wash his hair, both of them crowded into the little avocado green tub insert. It’s not built to be comfortable, but it’s paradise to Eddie.
A pizza does get ordered, but while it winds its way down desert roads, they both make their way back to the bed. Eddie makes sure he’s on the side of the bed closer to the door. Just in case. Which does, unfortunately, mean that there’s a broad patch of wet sheet sticking to the small of his back.
He turns up his nose. “I thought the whole ‘firehose’ thing was just about being big.”
For a second, Buck looks at him like he’s lost his mind before he realizes, blood rush coloring his cheeks. “Next time, two queens.” he promises, dragging Eddie in close so they’re both as far on his side of the bed as possible. “I’ll fuck you in one and we can sleep in the other.”
Eddie’s pretty sure it’s only the first of many things that are going to have him blushing over the next few days.
That night, he falls asleep with his hand pressed over Buck’s heart, his head on Buck’s chest. He feels every rise and fall of his breath, every beat of Buck’s heart. They may not be home yet, but this is pretty damn close.