Archive of Our Own

“I’m just saying,” Buck huffs, sprawling on the couch beside Eddie. “It’s cute.”

Eddie lifts an eyebrow at him, pursing his lips around an amused smile. “Elephant mating rituals are cute?” 

“Yeah, Eddie,” Buck insists, hooking his index fingers together. “They— they link trunks, like this. And the males sometimes stop eating because they’re so invested, and they have this game of Cat and Mouse, and the males smell the females’ pee to see if they’re in estrus, and— okay, the pee thing isn’t that cute, but still. They link trunks.” 

“They link trunks,” Eddie echoes, nodding dutifully. He thinks, privately, that if they were elephants, he’d link trunks with Buck all the time.

“It’s crazy, ‘cause the courting period can take days, but the mating itself only lasts for, like, half a minute.” 

Eddie bites back a joke about premature ejaculation, lips twitching. Instead, because he’s an adult, he tilts his head indulgently. “Really?” 

“Yep. Which is good, probably. Elephant dicks are big. Like— a meter long, man. Just massive.” Buck slumps against his couch, hands dropping against the cushions. “A-and they use it to shoo away insects.” 

Eddie blinks. Blinks again. “Sorry, what?” 

“I know, right? But they can sheathe it. It retracts. I wish we could do that.” He frowns. “I guess some dudes sort of can.” 

And, okay. Eddie may not be an expert on anything penile, especially given that his recently discovered homosexuality is still entirely in the realm of theory, but he’s pretty sure the Texas Sex Ed system didn’t fail him this badly. Even if it had failed to inform him of the importance of condoms.

“What are you talking about?” 

“You know,” Buck says, gesturing vaguely. “Like, how some guys are growers.” 

“Growers?”

“You know,” Buck says, gesturing at his own lap. “Some guys are show-ers, and some guys are growers, right?”

“What?”

Buck doesn’t falter, just scrunches his nose up in thought, a little bunnylike, as he explains, “It’s like… Some dudes are big, and they don’t get much bigger when they get hard. What you see is what you get. Other guys, they might not look like a lot, maybe even less than average, but you jerk them off a bit, work them up, and they're hung.”

“...Right,” Eddie says, trying so, so hard not to think about Buck’s experience with working up men. “Okay.”

“Like— I’m a show-er,” Buck says, offering information Eddie certainly didn’t ask for, but now knows. Buck’s dick is big even when he’s soft, which is— great. He loves this, loves that he’s going to think about that for the rest of his life. 

It’s fine. He can put that revelation in a box and ignore it until it bursts open at a more opportune moment, like when he’s showering or in bed. Until then, he will simply not think about it. 

But then, slamming the final nail into Eddie’s horny, miserable, yearning coffin, Buck adds: “Like you.”

If Eddie had been walking, he would have frozen in his tracks. Because— what? How does— Buck has never seen Eddie’s hard cock. Eddie is not sure of a lot of things in this world, but that is one thing he is certain of. The list of people who have seen his boner consists of four names, his own included. 

Beyond that: Eddie is not a show-er. Every single time he’s been with a partner, they’ve been surprised at how much his dick grows when he’s aroused.

So there’s not much else to do but shake his head. “Buck, I do not think I fit that definition.” 

Frowning, Buck tilts his head like a dog. “No, you are. I’ve showered with you, dude. Trust me, you are showing.”

Is it warm in here? Eddie feels— warm. Too warm. He averts his gaze, staring up at a painting he remembers Buck texting him a photo of from a flea market and asking if it fits his ‘aura’. It did. Eddie had told him it was nice, which was not the answer Buck had wanted. Eddie had then handed off his phone to Chris, who had convinced Buck to buy it for the four dollars it was being sold for.

The painting, aura-matching or not, does not distract from Buck’s burning gaze, which is locked on Eddie’s already warm cheeks. Roughly, Eddie confesses, “Trust me, bud, I’m not.”

“What the hell do you mean? Eddie, you’re—” His voice drops below a whisper, like they haven’t been talking about genitals this entire time, with no witnesses present. 

Sex is not a topic they tend to broach in explicit detail; the odd mention of being pent up or hooking up prevailing, but never followed up with details, or measurements, or… anything like this. Buck’s never admitted he knows what Eddie’s dick looks like in casual conversation, stoking a strange heat within Eddie. 

How long did he look? Did he like it? 

Eddie almost chokes on his own spit when Buck finishes with, “You’re big.”

The emphasis alone is enough to knock the breath out of Eddie. The warmth in his gut grows into a gentle fire, and he tries to stifle it, desperate now to maintain some sort of control. Eddie’s body doesn’t care. Eddie’s body, it seems, does whatever it wants. 

“Jesus, Buck.” He clears his throat, embarrassment and panic creeping up the vertebrae of his spine. “I’m a normal size.”

“No,” Buck says, insistent. “It’s— it’s thick, Eddie. Like— a real handful thick.”

Unprompted, images of Buck’s hand — work rough, fingers stubby in length but thick, and so, so masculine — wrapped around his cock spring to mind. He can’t help but picture it, imagining Buck doing what he mentioned earlier: jerking him off, just enough to get him worked up, watching himself fill up and grow in Buck’s grip.

Jesus. He’s actually getting worked up over this, and for some reason, the humiliation twisting his guts into knots isn’t doing anything to discourage it. 

It’s because he hasn’t had sex in a long time, he decides. A hell of a long time. Something that’s probably good for everyone, considering his dating life has been train wreck after train wreck, his own guilty hands on the wheel. 

Eddie ducks his head. “I’m a— grower. By your definition. It gets bigger.”

Buck is still staring at him. Eddie does not look back. “Like an inch bigger?”

Grabbing his beer from the table, Eddie takes the last sip, hoping the chill of it will act as a cool balm over the flames within. 

It doesn’t help much. 

Quietly, he answers, “More.”

Buck gasps, loud and theatrical. “More?”

“Yes. Alright?” Eddie says tightly, his body flushes hotly. “More.”

A long second ticks by. 

Abruptly and a little loudly, Buck asks, “Eddie, how big is your cock?”

Eddie chokes. On spit, on the last drop of beer, on his own sanity, who knows. He coughs, slamming a fist against his chest to clear his airway. 

Jesus fucking Christ. 

Eddie huffs a steadying breath, finally looking over at Buck, who is looking at him with— curiosity, awe, and— and something else. Something he’s never seen on Buck’s face before. “Do you think I measure myself regularly?”

“It’s normal!” Buck insists, a little too defensively. Does Buck measure his own dick? Does he drag his fist over it, helping it get harder and harder, just to figure out how big he is? How hung he is? Fuck. “Every dude measures it at least once. It’s— it’s a rite of passage.”

Eddie has been around plenty of men in his time—on sports teams, in the army, in the academy—he’s sure that if it were a rite of passage, he would’ve heard about it by now. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“So, what? You’ve never measured your dick?”

Eddie sinks into Buck’s couch, half-hoping it swallows him up. His cock, tucked behind briefs and a layer of denim, is stirring, eager to be part of the conversation it’s so heavily featured in. Eddie curls his hands into fists so he doesn’t do something insane like adjust himself in front of Buck. “No, Buck. I’ve never done that.”

“Not even when you were a teenager?”

“What? No. Never, man.” Should he have? Was he really supposed to? “It’s not a big deal.”

Buck fishmouths at him. “No, it’s a big deal. You’re— Eddie, I’ve seen it like, twice, ever. Properly, at least. And I went wow, my best friend’s— you know.” Buck gestures with his hand towards Eddie’s crotch with an open hand. Without meaning to, Eddie flexes his cock in return, almost like he’s fucking— waving back. Eddie briefly considers punching himself in the dick, but he’s not sure that would be a subtle solution. “Packing heat.”

Swallowing thickly, Eddie repeats, “Packing heat.”

“Hung. Big. Walking around with a secret third leg. A tripod–”

“Okay,” Eddie rushes out, holding up a hand. “I get it.”

“But it… It’s so big.” Buck’s body is tilting his way, closer than he’s been all night. Buck loves finding out new things, asking questions and seeking information, but this is— it’s a lot, alright? Eddie is gay, and the guy he’s probably in love with is asking intimate details about his… size, and he feels a little bit like he’s going to die. “It gets bigger?”

“It’s a normal-sized dick. But…” Eddie presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek, steeling himself before admitting, “Yeah. Bigger.”

“Huh,” Buck says, finally looking away from Eddie. He kicks a foot up, resting it atop the coffee table. Eddie follows his lead, staring ahead at the TV. “Is that … Do you have problems with that?”

“What?” Eddie’s gaze snaps to him. “I don’t have erectile dysfunction, Buck. My dick is— it’s fine.”

“No! I mean, like, the average vagina is like… three to seven inches deep. Does it … all fit?”

He decides he’s not answering that question, even as his mind provides him with a detailed film reel of every single time he’s had a woman beneath him, his fingers working them open first, only for him to be able to get most of his cock inside before it was too much. He remembers having to focus so, so hard to make sure he wasn’t hurting his partner, wasn’t accidentally forcing himself in more than their bodies could accommodate comfortably. It’d been fine. It was good. Sex is— it’s good. 

But he cannot tell Buck any of this. Buck is already a dog with a bone; Eddie’s not about to waggle further information in front of his little sniffing nose.

“Jesus,” he says, for what feels like the millionth time. “Why are we talking about this?”

Unfortunately, Buck knows Eddie’s deflection techniques like he knows the back of his hand. He suddenly beams, staring at Eddie once more. “Oh my God. It doesn’t. You can’t even fit in a woman.”

“Okay, thank you,” Eddie says, shoulders pulling tight. “Enough.”

Enough is never enough with Buck. “What about anal?”

A loud ringing fills Eddie’s ears. Faintly, he hears himself say, “I need a beer.”

“Come on, man, this is— this is a big thing to learn! You’re re-shaping my worldview! My best friend is a show-er and a grower. You’re a rare breed. You’re—”

Breath quickening, and — betraying him deeply — cock hardening, Eddie tries, “Do you want a beer?”

“Eddie, come on,” Buck says, voice dipping into a whiny quality. “Ballpark—how big are we talking here?”

Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever blushed this hard before. “Buck.”

“Like seven?”

About that when he’s soft, sure, but: “No.”

“Eight?”

No.

“Buck,” Eddie says, voice firm, jaw tight. “It’s not important.” 

“It’s important to m—” Buck snaps his mouth shut with an audible click, cheeks suddenly pink. 

For a long moment, Eddie dithers. He doesn’t want to deprive his best friend of anything, even if it’s… a glimpse of his dick. He knows what Buck’s like, knows that once he’s latched onto something, he doesn’t move on until his curiosity’s been satiated. He’s got his teeth sunk into this topic, and his jaw is locked. Eddie doesn’t mind. Not really. It’s just—he’s turned on. Far more turned on than he is embarrassed. And that is a problem. 

Obviously, Buck isn’t going to force Eddie to drop his pants for him. But if Eddie shuts him down right now, Buck will probably end up googling shit like: penis big when soft and hard, why, and— that, that right there is something Eddie can put a stop to. He just has to— 

“If I show you,” he starts, stomach swooping with anticipation, “Will you promise never to bring it up again?” 

Buck freezes, eyes snapping to Eddie’s crotch and then back to his face. He blinks. “I— yeah. I promise.” 

Eddie nods once, tight and curt. Then, with uncharacteristically shaky hands, he reaches for his belt. He unlatches it and slides it out of the hoops, the noise too loud in Buck’s living room. 

God, he’s about to get his dick out in Buck’s living room. 

Dropping the belt on the table, he pops the button on his jeans, slides the zipper down, and stands to kick them off. 

He sits down again. 

Then, steeling himself like he’s about to scale a building, he slips his hands past the waistband and pulls himself out. Swallowing hard, he then tucks his underwear beneath his balls. Only then does he look up. 

Buck looks wrecked. 

“Holy shit,” Buck exhales, wide eyes glued to Eddie’s now visible dick. 

Eddie does, as he told Buck, have a very normal-sized cock. As far as he knows, anyway. 

He hasn’t exactly come in contact with many in his time, only ever witnessing them in passing through medical emergencies, and the few times he bothered to indulge in watching porn while getting off. His cock had not been that different from the guys in the video, maybe a little girthier, if he were to really think about it, but not by much.

Very quietly, Buck asks, “Can you get hard? So— so I can see?” 

Eddie, for his own sake, does not mention the fact that he’s already hardening. The blood that should be in his brain telling him that this is a stupid idea is instead flooding south and fast, filling up his dick right in front of his best friend’s eyes.

Buzzing with nerves, Eddie wraps a hand around himself and squeezes. He drags his hand up the length of himself, dry and loose, before thumbing at the head. It feels so good. Too good. Eddie presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek, teeth poised to sink into the muscle if a noise threatens to creep out. 

On the couch beside him, Buck squirms. He looks up, eyes bright, blue and starving as they find Eddie’s face, before slipping down again to where Eddie’s fingers are working over the shaft. Bright, flaring arousal licks up Eddie’s spine, teasing its way up the back of his neck. 

Eddie’s already past half-hard, his dick more compliant now than it’s ever been in his entire life. It’s difficult, usually, for him to get hard. But that might be on account of his homosexuality. He keeps his attention focused on the length, dragging his fist back and forth, urging it to full hardness. 

Pupils blown, Buck is watching him like a hawk, his lips parted just enough that Eddie can see a flash of his bottom teeth every time he exhales. 

It’s so quiet. 

“Okay?” Eddie asks, filling the echoing silence. He’s not sure why he’s asking, but he— he needs to do this right. He needs Buck to keep looking at him. 

“Eddie,” Buck exhales roughly. “Can I touch you?” 

Eddie’s organs twist themselves into a neat little bow and pull tight. He feels very, very dizzy all of a sudden. 

That wasn’t part of the deal, wasn’t part of the expectation when this was just— satiating Buck’s curiosity. But Buck is asking. Earnest, and blushy, and— fuck. Eddie’s done for.

Swallowing through the tightness in his throat, he nods, unable to trust his voice.

Buck’s hand twitches in his lap, hesitant as it lifts. He finds Eddie’s eyes, a silent question asked. Are you sure?

Eddie squeezes around the sensitive tip, offering a low, rough grunt in response. 

Buck gets the message. He crosses the distance between them, the inches of safety suddenly gone as Buck’s fingertips graze Eddie’s wrist, nudging it aside.

Dropping his hand onto the couch, Eddie watches as his cock, fully hard now, leaks a bead of precome at the tip, dripping down the side of the flushed head. It catches right at the beginning of his foreskin. 

Slowly, Buck wraps his fingers around the base, fingers loose. 

It’s the first time another man has touched his dick. It worries him, suddenly, that this is just curiosity on Buck’s behalf. That it won’t mean anything. That he’ll have to forget about it tomorrow—just file it away, and never look at it again. Eddie will have to live with the memory of Buck’s hand on his skin and never feel it again—not like this.

But then Buck looks up, and at once, all Eddie’s doubts burn away.

The expression on his face isn’t curiosity, not entirely. It’s raw, hungry want—blue swallowed by pupil in his eyes, lips parted and cheeks blazing with colour. Buck wants him— not just his cock, not just the novelty of something big and thick in his hand. Him. His best friend. He wants Eddie.

Eddie exhales, breathing heavy already, and lets himself look down at Buck’s hand around him. Buck readjusts, dragging his hand up and circling the middle with a firmer grip. Then, slowly, he drags the skin down, revealing more of the pink head, showing off the line of his frenulum, and exposing the now pulsing vein that runs down the side of his dick.

“OhmyGod,” Buck whispers in one breath.

Eddie lets out a huff of a laugh, eyes flitting up to Buck’s awestruck face. “What?”

“It’s so big.”

Something primal in Eddie kicks into gear, his hips twitching up involuntarily, cock flexing as it slides through the loose channel of Buck’s fist. Fresh precome spills over Buck’s thumb, glistening under the warm light. “Fuck.” 

“Yeah?” Buck whispers, eyes thrilled. “You like that?”

Buck’s fingers tighten around him, giving one slow, experimental stroke from base to tip, dragging the slickness down his shaft. 

Apparently, Eddie thinks, frazzled. 

“Keep going,” Eddie manages. It sounds more like begging to his own ears. 

“I will, but can I— I want to—” Buck’s gaze is fixed hungrily on the way Eddie throbs in his hand. “Can I taste you?” 

“Shit,” Eddie pants, head spinning. “Yeah, you can— go for it.” 

There’s enough pre on Buck’s thumb already that he wouldn’t even have to swipe over the head to gather more, but he does, drags it right through the slit before dragging his hand down, squeezing around the base, and— oh, God.

Buck lowers his head, sealing his lips right over the fat tip, tongue tracing that same line through the leaking slit. 

A strangled moan escapes Eddie, mouth falling open. 

He hadn’t expected Buck to put his mouth on him. He’d thought he was going to lick his fingers, or— or something. This is— 

Buck gives a gentle suck, flattening his tongue around the bottom of the head. 

“H– holy fuck, Buck,” Eddie exhales, head tilting back, throat bared. “Shit.”

Sighing through his nose, Buck stretches his lips wide around Eddie’s girth and sinks down, down, down. 

Eddie forgets how to breathe. 

Only a second later, Buck’s throat clicks wetly, but he keeps pushing, keeps—

“Buck, it’s—” Eddie pants, voice wrecked. He’s used to telling partners before they go down on him that it doesn’t bother him in the slightest if they can’t take it all—that he doesn’t expect them to. Though he’s always thought that was normal, that every guy had to do it to soothe their partner’s nerves. “It’s okay, if—”

Buck takes him deeper, throat convulsing and fluttering around the head, till suddenly, it’s too much. He chokes on it, pulling back and spluttering violently, a cough tearing from his chest. Eddie fights the urge to grab him by the chin and kiss the taste of himself off Buck’s mouth, breathing air back into Buck’s lungs himself.

Buck’s eyes are shiny when they drag open, glistening with unshed tears. His mouth is wet, slick with spit and pre. 

The visual is too much. Eddie has to slam his eyes shut, clenching his jaw. “Sorry.” 

Buck nuzzles his thigh, exhaling raggedly. “Could die down here.” 

The muscles of his leg flutter beneath Buck’s face, sensitive against the drag of his day or two's worth of stubble.

Barely burying a whine, Eddie says, “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You’re not gonna hurt me,” Buck assures him, mouthing at the base of it, tongue darting down just once to lick across the front seam of Eddie’s balls. Predictably, Eddie’s dick twitches. 

Eddie opens his eyes again, shuddering. “Buck.” 

“I mean it.” Buck looks up at him then, eyes earnest and life-destroyingly sweet. “I’m, um— I like it rough. I’ve had my throat, y-you know. Fucked. More than once. Never by anything this big, but…” He shrugs, licking a long, wet, frankly obscene line up the underside of Eddie’s cock, like he’s tracing the thinner vein there.

Then, he shifts, dropping himself down onto the floor and crawling between Eddie’s parted thighs and settling in as if he belongs there and always has. Maybe he has. Maybe he does. 

Buck smoothes a hand possessively along the side of Eddie’s bare calf, squeezing over the tightly coiled muscle. 

“Okay,” Eddie wheezes. 

“If I die, I die,” Buck finishes, grinning up at him with boyish, reckless charm.

Eddie has never been able to resist Buck’s charm. He doesn’t think that today, with Buck on his knees, looking up at him all pretty, will be the day he learns how. He’s not sure he ever will. Realises, quietly, that he doesn’t mind. Not at all.

“Don’t die,” Eddie instructs, unable to think of a single other coherent thing to say. 

Laughing, Buck dips his head, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s stomach. “Fine. No dying. But don’t hold back. Just— just feel good.” A pause, Buck’s eyes flitting up, finding his. “Let me make you feel good.”

Without thinking, Eddie sinks his fingers into Buck’s curls. Buck leans into the touch, and Eddie takes a second to card his fingers through the soft strands—briefly imagines them splayed out in a bed with Buck’s head on his chest, sighing contentedly as Eddie pets him over and over, Buck’s breathing evening out slowly as he slips into sleep, the weight of his body half-spread out over Eddie’s own.

Eddie’s fantasy is cut short quickly when Buck wraps his lips back around Eddie’s cock, the first few inches disappearing into his mouth. Unable to drag his eyes away, Eddie watches as Buck hollows his cheeks, the wet velvet of them dragging along his shaft as he pulls up again, lips suctioned tight as they pop over the head of his cock.

His fingers, where they rest near Buck’s scalp, tighten immediately, tangled in them now. 

“Buck.” Eddie’s voice is trembling, barely above a whisper, pleasure coiling and teasing through every part of him as Buck expertly works his mouth over his dick, not pushing himself again just yet, just— fuck. Just making Eddie feel good. Tasting him. Taking him.

Pulling back, Buck inhales shakily, blinking slowly at him before he spits down onto Eddie’s shaft. It knocks a groan out of Eddie, one that vibrates through his entire body, and before he can say anything, before he can ask Buck to do it again, his mouth is back on him, letting the saliva slick the way, the excess wetness making it sloppier and smoother. 

The noise filling the room is beyond obscene. It should be gross. Disgusting, even. Instead, it’s the hottest thing Eddie’s ever heard. Something shaped like shame flickers alight in his chest, telling him he should be embarrassed to be so turned on by something filthy, but instead, all it does is make him harder, length kicking in Buck’s mouth.

He realises, skin suddenly burning all over, that he wants to be filthy with Buck. That he wants to fulfil every animalistic desire either of them could ever have. That he wants to split Buck open on his thick cock, that he wants to bend him in half and taste him, that he wants to spit in his mouth, or lick up his tears, or—

Fuck. 

Eddie moans, panting hard as Buck doubles his efforts, Eddie’s tip drooling desperately onto his tongue.

Even with his mouth wide open, Buck only manages to take around half of the length of it. Buck seems unbothered by it, though. His eyes flutter closed as he bobs his head back and forth, focused entirely on Eddie’s pleasure.

Eddie’s probably going to die here. 

He loosens his hand in Buck’s hair, sliding it down over the back of his head and laying it flat over the back of his neck— just to hold, to feel his fever-hot skin as his eyes skitter over the length of Buck’s body. Buck moves then, legs spreading, hips shifting, and Eddie realises with a jolt that Buck is rubbing himself against the couch. 

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes. “Buck, are you—?” 

Buck doesn’t pull off to respond—he just hums, muffled and low, and the feeling vibrates down Eddie’s cock and right up the length of his spine. Eddie watches, mesmerised, as Buck rolls his hips again at the same time that the leaking head of Eddie’s dick knocks against the soft palate at the back of Buck’s throat. 

The movements of Buck’s hips are messy and uncoordinated, but his mouth— there’s a finesse to it. He works his tongue against Eddie’s foreskin, teasing it right at his frenulum on every other upstroke. Pleasure pulls tight behind Eddie’s navel, telltale warning signs flying up as his balls draw tighter.

“Buck,” Eddie grinds out, voice cracking as he sucks in a sharp breath. “I’m close, you’ve gotta—” 

Buck’s hands fly up, gripping Eddie’s thighs as he bobs his head, hollowing his cheeks. His eyes flick up briefly, heavy-lidded and glassy, and Eddie’s hips snap up, burying him an inch or two deeper into the tight heat of Buck’s throat. Buck’s eyes drop closed in bliss, a wanton moan vibrating through the hard length.

It’s too much. It’s so fucking much. Sparks race up Eddie’s back, jaw clenching tight as he fights the urge to press down on the back of Buck’s neck and force him to take every single inch. Instead, he traces vague shapes against the back of his neck.

“Just like that,” he manages, “You’re so good. Holy shit. Take it so good, Buck. Like you were made for it.”

Eddie’s eyes laser in on Buck’s mouth, wet and obscene as he sucks and swallows, tongue swirling lazily around the shaft as much as he can with Eddie’s girth stuffing his mouth full. Spit is dripping freely now, running down Buck’s chin, Eddie’s cock, and over his balls, making everything messier, wetter, louder.

Legs splayed wide for balance, Buck continues grinding his trapped dick desperately against the couch, pleasure-seeking with every needy roll.

“Oh, fuck.” Eddie fights to keep his eyes open, breathing increasing. “Buck, baby, I’m gonna come.” 

Buck freezes, body jolting against the couch. He whimpers, exhaling messily around Eddie’s dick. A moment later, with renewed vigour, he sucks Eddie deeper into his mouth. 

“Did you just—” 

Buck pulls off, inhaling sharply and mumbling out a wrecked little, “Sorry.”

He looks—dazed. Fucked out. Undeniably pretty.

Eddie’s cock flexes. He’s harder now than he’s ever been in his entire life.

“It’s— Buck, please,” Eddie grinds out, desperation clawing at his ribs. “Fuck, please.”

He’s never been the type to beg, but it spills out of him easily, now. He tilts his hips up, brushing the tip of his cock against Buck’s lips, smearing them with more mess.

He needs to come. Needs to feel Buck’s mouth, and his tongue, and all of him.

Buck takes Eddie back into his mouth without question, bobbing his head eagerly and getting right back to work. Barely ten seconds later, Eddie’s teetering right at the edge again, watching Buck drool messily over him, clearly suppressing a gag every time he dives down to take more and more of Eddie’s dick in his mouth.

His hips ache to snap up, to choke Buck on it, to bury himself fully inside Buck’s throat, but he keeps still, letting Buck drag him over the edge with his wicked, relentless mouth instead.

Then Buck’s hand skims down his calf, brushing tenderly along the length of it—a soft contrast to the pornographic view Eddie has of Buck’s face, glistening with saliva, choking on Eddie’s dick, birthmark flushed and dark with exertion. 

Somehow, it’s Buck’s hand in the end that sends Eddie stumbling over the line. Eddie’s vision whites out at the edges, thighs trembling as his orgasm slams through him.

“Jesus. Fuck, Buck, I’m—” He tries, his warning cut off with a groan right as the first pulse of cum lands against Buck’s tongue. Buck moans around him, hollowing his cheeks and taking Eddie in deeper. He swallows the flood of Eddie’s come, tongue coaxes out every spurt, teasing along the underside.

Eddie’s whole body shakes with it, hand gripping tight at the back of Buck’s neck, tight like he’s scruffing him. Buck is pressing back into the touch, still trying to wring every drop out of Eddie.

Finally, as the pleasure ebbs, Eddie slumps back, boneless and panting. Buck’s lips stay sealed loosely around him, humming contentedly like he could stay down there for the rest of his life happily. Remembers suddenly Buck saying I could die down here and his dick twitches again, offering one final weak drop. Buck’s throat works, swallowing the last of it.

He pulls away with a rough inhale, cock slipping entirely out of his mouth and onto Eddie’s thigh. Trembling, Eddie scratches at Buck’s scalp, heart skipping a beat when Buck presses his forehead to Eddie’s leg, chest heaving. 

It takes a minute for Buck to lift his head again, peering up at Eddie almost hesitantly. Hoarsely, he asks, “Was I… Was it okay?” 

Eddie tugs gently at one of Buck’s curls, panting, “Buck. That was— the best. The best I’ve ever had.” 

It’s like watching the sun crest the horizon, seeing Buck’s lips twitch into a smile, and then a grin. 

“Wanted to see you, though,” he admits. 

Buck blinks. “You wanted to see me?” 

“Your— dick,” Eddie says, voice only wavering a little. “I wanted to see you… y’know.”

“Oh.” Buck wets his lips, blinking again. “You— you can. Just give me— give me five minutes. Eight, tops.” 

Eddie laughs, disbelieving and light in a way he hasn’t felt in a long, long time. 

Slowly, Buck’s face morphs into a grin, too. 

“Come here,” Eddie says, overwhelmed. He feels fit to burst with it, with the affection he has for this man. 

Buck catches Eddie’s eyes lingering on his mouth and wets his bottom lip, voice faint as he asks, “You want me to…” 

Eddie raises a brow. “Sucking my dick’s fair game, but you draw the line at kissing me?” 

“What? No, oh my—” Buck smacks the side of Eddie’s knee. “You’re such an asshole!” 

Buck all but vaults himself into Eddie’s lap. Eddie catches him with shaky arms, fitting his palms around Buck’s waist. 

He’s beautiful like this. He’s beautiful all the time, but here, in Eddie’s arms, he looks happy. His honey-coloured curls catch the light of the warm-toned lamp, eyes a gentler blue, mouth damp and curled into a smile. 

“You gonna kiss me?” Eddie murmurs. 

“Yeah,” Buck breathes. “I’m gonna kiss you.” 

He’s smiling when Buck slots their lips together, hand slipping up to cradle Buck’s jaw. Buck makes a soft noise, pressing forward, and Eddie does the same, because it feels— 

It feels right. It feels like everything, from the moment they met, has led to this moment. Kissing Buck doesn’t feel like as much of a revelation as he thought it would; it just feels like an inevitability. If he weren’t the superstitious type, maybe something like fate.

Breathless, between starving kisses of Buck licking into Eddie’s mouth, Eddie manages to say, “We didn’t even hook trunks.”

Buck pulls back, blinking rapidly. “W-What?”

Eddie’s hand finds the side of his neck, dragging him back in close, his breath mingling with Buck’s. “The mating ritual. You said– fuck,” Eddie breathes out, eyes fluttering as Buck adjusts in his lap, accidentally grinding down against Eddie’s cock that is valiantly trying to get hard again. “They link trunks. Mating rituals. We didn’t—”

“You were listening,” Buck whispers. 

“Obviously.”

Buck’s fingers fist into the hair at the back of Eddie’s hand, holding him firmly in place as he dives back in, kissing him so hard their teeth clash roughly. Eddie goes to let out a huffed laugh, but then Buck rolls his hips down, the weight of his body grinding down against his sensitive cock, and it breaks off into a groan—one Buck swallows down eagerly, whining in response as he ruts against Eddie’s front.

“We should— all the time,” Eddie mumbles into Buck’s mouth. 

“Hm?”  Buck hums, tightening his grip in Eddie’s hair.

“This,” Eddie nips at his bottom lip. “We should do this all the time.” 

Buck pulls back, expression softening. “We should kiss all the time?”

Eddie’s heart stutters. He lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug. “Sure.”

Biting his bottom lip, Buck tilts closer again, eyes flicking between Eddie’s. “More than kiss?”

“Preferably.” Eddie can’t help but smile up at him, unafraid. He knows what he wants, and he thinks, pretty confidently, he knows exactly what Buck wants, too.

Buck looks at him for a long second, his searching gaze drifting over Eddie’s features. Eddie doesn’t push him, doesn’t break the silence. He just waits, patient. He settles a hand at Buck’s hip, thumb dipping beneath Buck’s shirt to trace against his side.

Then, finally, Buck asks, “Everything?”

Eddie closes the distance, stealing a lingering, claiming kiss. Quietly, right against his lips, Eddie says, “Yeah. Everything.”