Work Text:
Long shifts without calls sink into Buck's skin like nothing else. He loves his job, more than anything else, but when he has to sit there for hours, engines cleaned and laundry neatly folded, he practically loses his mind.
Eddie likes to say it's the ADHD. Buck isn't quite sure that's it; there's something else to it. A need to have his heart race in his chest, to feel the tug on the harness digging into his legs, to feel that burning heat against his flesh.
Maybe that's why they always end up here after slow shifts, standing in Eddie's kitchen with adrenaline coursing through their veins. Or, at least through Buck's veins. He's sure he's shaking with the want, eyes digging into Eddie with an unspoken plea.
Eddie, on the other hand, is contained. He simply sips at his beer, tongue flicking out to catch a trailing drop around the neck. Pink and wet in a way that makes Buck want.
But this is the game they play. Buck tends to break first, too desperate to writhe against Eddie. He feels that desperation now, burning a path up his throat until he's dizzy with it.
Eddie just smirks at him. "How are you doing, Buck?"
"Oh, you know exactly how I'm doing," he snaps, cheeks flushing a pretty rose.
Eddie hums casually, dropping his empty bottle into the recycling. He makes his way over to Buck, casual, stepping into his space with the confidence of knowing he belongs there. Subconsciously, Buck leans back into the cabinets, spreading his legs a little wider to make space.
Eddie presses his lips lightly against Buck's cheek, a trailing feather touch that leaves him shivering. "I don't think I do," he says softly, lips teasing at his skin with each word. "How about you tell me?"
Buck groans, head falling back. Eddie takes advantage of his exposed skin, trailing more kisses down the length.
"Quit teasing." Buck tries to sound demanding, but his voice comes out embarrassingly whiney with it. He could never really hide his need; he should have known better.
"It's not teasing if I deliver," Eddie replies evenly, punctuating the words with a nip to his jawline. "Just tell me what you want, and you can have it."
Buck wants to hold out a little longer, get Eddie to lose his patience and snap and press into him. But he just feels so good: Eddie's hands ghosting around his waist, his hips just a centimeter from his own, his lips continuing their sultry dance on his neck.
"Fuck, I need you," Buck finally whimpers, bringing his own hands to Eddie's back, digging his nails in to ground himself. "Please."
Buck can feel his smile against his skin. "Of course, baby. Anything you want."
Buck breaks first. He was always going to break first, but it was fun to pretend. He brings a hand to the back of Eddie's head and pulls him in, slamming their lips together.
It's a little painful at first, Buck yanking him too close for the kiss to be much more than teeth and scrapes and bites. Then Eddie aligns their bodies, pressing hips and chests in a way that makes Buck gasp with pleasure, leaving Eddie an opening to grab him by the hair and pull, taking control of the kiss and bringing lips back into the equation.
"Easy, baby," Eddie smiles into his mouth, biting his lower lip hard enough to make his breath stutter. "I'm not going anywhere."
Buck knows, objectively, that this is true; he can feel Eddie's soft skin, the callouses of his fingers pressing into his scalp, his cock thick against his thigh. But he can't help but feel like he needs to kiss harder, to push his way into Eddie's mouth or, God, tug him closer and closer, to climb into him, to pull him inside, in, in, in--
A bite at the muscle of his neck takes him back into the moment, a strangled groan escaping his lips.
"That's it," Eddie practically purrs, soothing the bite with softer kisses and licks. "Stay with me, Buck. I want to make sure you're feeling everything."
He pushes his hips into Buck's, grinding them together slowly. The pleasure spikes in him, trailing through his every nerve with such raw intensity. He's overwhelmed with sensation, practically shivering in Eddie's arms.
"Oh, baby," Eddie simpers, licking the shell of his ear. "So sensitive. You're so desperate for me already, and we haven't even gotten undressed yet."
Buck opens his mouth, intent on saying anything at all to defend himself, when Eddie grinds into him harder, stealing any words he might have had. He drops his head into the crook of Eddie's neck, biting the skin there to muffle his gasps.
"Yeah, that's it, baby," Eddie says sweetly, a hand skimming the skin just under his shirt. "I'll give you what you need. Let's go to the bedroom and get comfortable."
It's a special type of torture, separating himself from Eddie, letting Eddie pull back. When Buck gets like this, when the need becomes so great that it's practically alive, he can barely handle an inch of space between himself and Eddie. It's like his soul is reaching through his pores, tiny tendrils that find their grip against him, locking into his arms and legs and face and cock and holding him taught.
Eddie is mindful of this, soothing the tear with a gentle caress of his hand when Buck sobs his disapproval. "It's okay, Buck. You're okay, baby. Just into the bedroom and we can do whatever you want, okay?"
Buck stumbles after him, practically tripping over his feet with his eagerness. It's another way he fits his name; a newborn deer, stumbling, stumbling, stumbling over weak legs with the urge to follow. Eddie doesn't look back to make sure he's coming. He doesn't have to, with the way Buck would always chase after him, no matter the reason.
He does turn eventually, his hands reaching for the hem of Buck's shirt. He acquiesces, lifting his arms up so Eddie can pull it off for him.
Eddie smiles sweetly as he does. "That's my good boy," he says, coos, hands trailing up and down his now-exposed torso. "Look at you. I don't even have to say anything, and you know exactly what to do."
Buck whines with the praise. He is, he's a good boy, he's Eddie's good boy who knows exactly what to do, and the way Eddie looks at him when he does, almost proud, tampers down any instincts Buck might have had to rebel.
If it wasn't going to be the praise that did it, the way that Eddie now pushes him down onto the bed would have, his hand splaying against his sternum even as he bounces on the mattress, his own body follow so he kneels between Buck's legs.
"Oh," Eddie pauses, eyes glued to Buck's chest. "Your tits bounced so nicely with that, baby. All nice and fat for me."
He trails up his hand to Buck's right tit, the other coming from his side to cup the left. He pinches at each nipples, making Buck throw his head back into the pillow, his chest arching up into the sharp ache.
Buck knows his pecs are big; if not from looking in the mirror, he would have learned from the way Eddie always lavishes them during sex, his hands and lips and teeth unable to stay away for long.
Just as he's doing now, his thumbs pressing into each nipple as he leans up to bite into the meat of the right tit. Buck, sensitive as always, gasps with it, mouth feeling dry with how heavily he's breathing.
He turns his face into the pillow, intent on muffling his sounds or biting down on the cushion or something, when Eddie's hand shoots up, gripping his jaw in his hand and turning him to look him in the eyes.
"Nuh uh, sweetheart," he scolds gently, squeezing once with his fingers. "Keep those pretty blue eyes on me. I know you can take everything I give you."
He takes one of Buck's nipples into his mouth, pulsating suction making him feel delirious. He sobs with it, louder, and Eddie hums his approval.
While Eddie's mouth stays focused on Buck's chest, mouthing sweet bruises into the skin, his hand trails from Buck's jaw, nails scratching as it ventures lower and lower, until his fingers are fidgeting with his zipper.
"You want me to unzip your pants, baby?" He asks, eyes trained on Buck's, chin resting in the center of his chest. The pressure is nice, distracting enough that Buck needs to think over the question about five times to realize what the words are.
When it does click, he's overwhelmed with a wave of something, rippling outwards from the pressure of Eddie's chin. He doesn't even realize he's shaking his head until Eddie frowns, lifting himself off of Buck with one hand and cupping his cheek with the other. "Baby, what's wrong?"
He doesn't realize what he was thinking until the words are spilling out of him, sliding and slurring with an intensity he doesn't fully understand. "I need -- I need -- your shirt, Eddie, I -- your shirt, please!"
"Sh, sh," Eddie shushes him, thumbing at Buck's lip. Buck opens his mouth, takes the thumb in and sucks. There's something soothing about it, something that takes the urgency out of his pulse. He slides his tongue against the thumb, tasting Eddie, eyes fluttering shut with the sensation.
Eddie watches all the while with hooded eyes, until he pulls his thumb out, tugging Buck's lip down with it as he does so. "Do you want me to take off my shirt, or do you want to do it for me?"
It goes either way, most days. Sometimes Buck likes the drag of his hands against Eddie's torso, the lithe way he stretches with it, abs rippling almost obscenely with the movement.
Today, Buck feels like he's trembling out of his skin. To be perfectly honest, he's not sure he has the wherewithal to even grasp a shirt right enough to move. He shakes his head. "You, Eds."
Eddie leans down and gives him a gentle peck on the lips, antithetical to everything else he's done with that mouth up until now. He sits back and pulls his shirt off, hand gripping the back of the neck and yanking.
For all that Buck watches him, day in and day out, he's gotten good enough at reading Eddie that he can see the slight desperation in the movement. Buck preens under it, under the knowledge that he can crack that put-togetherness Eddie always has on his exterior.
Once Eddie's shirt is off, Buck's hands shoot out almost unbidden, fingers digging into the grooves of Eddie's abs.
Eddie groans, falling forward into Buck and stopping himself just before they could crash together. He presses their torsos together, slick with sweat and saliva.
Buck whines, chokes a little bit on his tongue. The skin to skin contact is delicious, satisfying some deep need that had been roaring until now. He presses his nose into Eddie's hair, breathing in the scent of his shampoo.
Eddie takes the opportunity presented to him and bites into Buck's shoulder, teeth gripping hard enough that Buck knows it will leave a mark. Eddie grinds their hips together with slow, sensuous thrusts, the sweet pleasure of their cocks pushing together punctuated with the sharp bite of their zippers. Buck moans with it, flinches with it, leans with it, feels insane with it.
He doesn't know how much time passes before Eddie is pulling back, sat upright and hands back at Buck's fly. "Baby, please tell me you're ready, please tell me I can take these off --"
"Yes," Buck cries out, pushing his hips up into Eddie's hands, desperate for any type of pressure. "Please, Eds -- please I need it, baby -- Eddie please!"
With that, Eddie unzips his pants, slides them off as quick as he can. He pulls down Buck's briefs with it, the material tacky and soaked with pre-come. It sticks a little bit, pulls at his tender skin with a gentle bite.
Buck can see a slightly debauched look in Eddie's eyes, one that's confirmed when, once the briefs are off, he brings them up to his face and inhales deeply, the sticky fabric pressed against his nose. Buck whines as if it were his own skins, as if he could feel the puffs of breath escaping through his mouth.
"You smell so good, baby," Eddie groans, finally putting the briefs down. He leans closer, presses his mouth to Buck's. Buck can feel his own tacky fluids against his face, from his own underwear to Eddie's face and back to the man it came from. He can smell it, he's convinced he can taste it, he can feel it. He groans into Eddie's mouth, the sound swallowed by his frantic kisses.
Eddie pulls back, trailing his lips down Buck's body, talking directly into his skin. "You taste so good, baby, gotta taste directly from the source. Did you smell me on you? Did you like that? Feel like you've marked me up? Like knowing that I'm all yours, sweetheart?"
All the while, Buck is writhing under the attention, trying to push up into Eddie's mouth, babbling nonsense.
Eddie, now poised directly above Buck's cock, chin resting in that thatch of curly hair, peers up at him. "Come on, baby. Use your words. I can't give you what you want if you don't ask for it."
Buck isn't so sure he knows how to speak anymore, but somehow words come out. "Please! Please, Eds, please I need your mouth, I need you so bad."
Eddie obliges. Buck knows he would, trusts that Eddie will always give him what he wants.
Right now, that means he licks up Buck's dick, tongue pink against his pale skin. Buck is, frankly, slightly embarrassed about the noise that squeezes through his teeth, something high pitched and needy, wrought with the same pleasure he could feel in his body.
Eddie does his best with the blowjob, but quite honestly, there's only so much of Buck's cock that can fit in a reasonable mouth. He's large, hangs heavy between his legs with a size that would be daunting for anyone.
Buck is always impressed by the way Eddie's mouth stretches around him, lips pulled tight against him as he bobs his head. Buck's hand goes to his hair, touching but not pulling, the other fisting the sheet beside him.
It's amazing, the way Eddie swallows around him, the pulse of his throat around his tip driving him insane. He's drooling around Buck, saliva dripping down the exposed half of his length and pooling at the base. It's wet enough that Eddie can wrap his hand around him, tug gently in opposition with his mouth, twisting slightly on the downstroke.
Buck is half convinced he's dead, because there's no way any of these sensations can exist outside of heaven.
Just when he thinks he can't handle any more, Eddie pulls up, chin slick and a devilish grin on his face. "How about you roll over for me, baby? I want to taste more of you."
Buck doesn't hesitate, a little overeager and desperate. He's feeling loose, a little lightheaded, like he's been breathing too much and not enough all at once. Still, the words ring into his head and he rolls obediently, instinctively pressing his chest to the sheets and arching his back, ass up and thighs spread.
Eddie groans, his hands going right to his cheeks. Buck feels exposed in the best way possible, on display solely for his lover. It's heady, and he swims in the feeling.
"Look at you, baby," Eddie croons. Buck can feel one of his fingers trail between his cheeks, dancing lightly over his hole before dropping away entirely, Buck whining at the loss. "You're so good at showing off, so pretty for me."
Buck can feel the bed shift behind him, feel the wet heat of his breath drawing closer and closer. He whimpers, leaning his ass back slightly as though trying to speed up the process.
All at once, Eddie backs away. Buck cries out at this, trying to look behind himself frantically. "Where -- Eds?"
"We're going at my pace," he says sternly, pinching at his ass. "You can be a good boy and wait until I decide to eat that pretty ass of yours, right?"
Buck's chest clenches, riding that line of too desperate. "I can wait! I can be patient, Eds, please, please, please --"
With that, Eddie dives in. Buck squeaks before settling into a moan, limbs falling loose with how much he's feeling. He can feel the way Eddie kisses at his hole, like it's a mouth, like if he kisses it we'll enough it'll kiss him back.
When he introduces tongue to the equation, sturdy licks and rubs that wet his rim with his spit, Buck truly melts. He's not so sure he has a spine anymore. He's not entirely sure he wants a spine, if it would interfere at all with how good this all feels.
Eddie bites at his hole once, twice, three times, each nip sending a bolt of lightning down his spine. Buck is intimately familiar with lightning, generally, and he's certain not even that bolt came close to how electric it feels when Eddie's face is buried in his ass.
His tongue becomes more insistent, poking and prodding at his hole until it finally relents, allowing him to slip his tongue between the muscles, licking and rubbing his inner walls.
Buck thinks he may have actually ascended.
Once Eddie is satisfied with his work on Buck's ass, he relents. Buck is practically shaking at this point, trembling under the results of Eddie's ministrations, his cock drooling insistently between his legs. "Eddie, please," he begs again, reaching down to spread his legs even further, sliding his pelvis towards the bed.
Eddie simply presses a chaste kiss to the small of Buck's back, hands running up his ass. "You need my fingers, baby? You can't stand being empty, can you? You need me to fill you up."
Buck hears the soft click of the lube bottle opening and practically sobs his relief. He shifts on his knees, left and right, hoping Eddie doesn't make him wait.
He sinks even lower, relieved, when Eddie's sticky fingers come into contact with his hole, rubbing gentle circles. He can feel himself flutter with it, with this intense need and craving. He wants to draw him in, wants to surround Eddie, wants to engulf him.
Eddie simply pets him, probably too well aware of the delirious want coursing through Buck. "One finger first, okay baby? Nice and slow."
Buck whines at this, the words not coming out. He knows it doesn't matter, that Eddie knows exactly what he wants to say.
Eddie swats at his ass with his other hand, quick and sharp, the slight pain pulling him back into his body. "Don't be greedy, sweetheart. I know what you need, and that's exactly what I'm going to give you."
With that, he slides in his first finger slowly. Buck feels the slide, the pull on his walls not too pronounced from how relaxed he is. The finger probes inside of him, curling and bending until his body lights up.
Buck is pretty sure the sound he makes at this is inhuman. It only gets louder, shriller, as Eddie keeps his finger pressed against Buck's prostate, rubbing gentle circles into the gland. It all at once feels like too much and not enough, Buck trying to push himself into the finger, to pull away, to change the sensation at all.
Eddie simply tuts and moves his hand with Buck, keeping that constant pressure. "Can you be a good boy and keep still for me? Keep that pretty ass right where it is."
Buck complies immediately, his body freezing up and embracing the sharp spikes of pleasure, practically panting with it.
"Oh, that's good," Eddie murmurs, and Buck feels his lips graze over the area he had just spanked. "Look at you. You love this."
He does, he really does. He lives for the moments where the intense pleasure takes over his every cell, when he can simply exist and feel, each twitch of Eddie's finger practically rubbing at his soul. He feels grounded and exposed at the same time, seen in a way that people rarely do.
While Buck is floating, Eddie slips in another finger, this one lining up and bending with the first. Buck groans at the additional stretch, just another element building onto his pleasure. He wants to thrust his hips back into it, but Eddie told him to stay still, and he knows he can be good for him.
He feels the fingers finally end their ruthless attack on his prostate, instead spreading and thrusting, rubbing against his walls with enough pressure to light up every pleasure sensor he has. He's trying to keep still, he really is, but at some point it becomes too much, and he can't help but squirm a little.
Once he's fully panting, a level of desperate he can't even put words to, Eddie pulls his fingers out, biting his cheek before fully pulling away. "You did so good for me, baby. How about we get my cock in you, huh? Do you need my dick?"
Buck nods into the pillow. It feels wet against his cheek, and he realizes he's been drooling steadily this whole time, saliva wetting his chin and cheek. Its debauched, and somehow makes that heat of arousal spark even hotter in his gut.
Eddie leans over Buck, kissing up the knobs of his spine before biting once at the base of his neck. Buck whines, pressing into his soft lips. He expects Eddie to take him like this, to slide his cock right in and just take what he wants from him.
Instead, Eddie rolls himself over, pulling away for long enough to take off his own pants and underwear, and sits up against the headboard, legs sprawled across the bed. He grabs the bottle of lube and squeezes more into his hand, using it to wet his own dick.
Buck's eyes stay trained on his hand, the way it squeezes around Eddie's thick length, the fingers tightening just under the head, the tan of his hand contrasting with the deeply red flush of the blood in his cock.
He gestures to Buck. "Come here and take a seat, sweetheart."
Buck doesn't hesitate, crawling from where he was up Eddie's body, not stopping until both of his arms are wrapped around his shoulders, nails clenched into his skin. Eddie's right arm travels up his back, fingers dancing lightly until they tighten around the back of his neck, almost reminiscent of scruffing a cat. His left hand is holding his own cock upright, teasing at Buck's hole with the head.
"Come on, baby, take what you need," he whispers, mouthing at Buck's collarbone. His fingers squeeze at his neck, pulling him down until Buck is spearing himself on his cock, the tip pushing at that tight ring of muscle. "Yeah, good boy, look at you taking me so well."
Buck whines sharply, feeling himself stretch around Eddie. He lets his body fall down, taking in more and more of him, working through that delicious stretch. It feels like it goes on forever this way, like Eddie is going to pierce straight through his body. He thinks deliriously that he might like that, might enjoy having Eddie punch through every one of his organs until he's left his mark on his entire body, not a single inch untouched.
When he does bottom out, his ass pressed snugly against Eddie's thick thighs, they both groan in harmony, Eddie biting harshly into Buck's shoulder. Buck drops his head into Eddie's neck, nuzzling there and mouthing at the skin.
They both sit there for a moment, just appreciating the way their bodies fit together. No matter how many times they do it, no matter what position, it always feels like perfection. Like they were made to be inside each other, surrounding each other, as close to become on person as possible.
Eventually, the stretch isn't enough. Buck starts grinding his hips, slowly and deeply, feeling the head of Eddie's cock nuzzle home into his prostate, jerking white-hot pleasure out of him. He groans with it, moving his hips with a little more intention.
"Oh, you're desperate for it, aren't you?" Eddie says, his sympathetic tone betrayed by how tight is voice is, forced restraint that Buck can tell is taking all his strength to maintain. He pushes his hips up, pulling a cry of pleasure out of Buck. "You need this, don't you? You were made to be stuffed with my cock."
Buck feels the fingers around his neck tighten again, pulling him up by the pulse-point. He goes willingly, lifting his head off Eddie's shoulder to look at him, rising up on his thighs until about halfway up, before Eddie pushes him down, hard. He chokes on a wail, tears building up in his eyes.
"So sensitive," Eddie murmurs. He grinds his hips up into Buck, taking advantage of the angle to sink his teeth into his tit once more. "You're so pretty when you're cock-drunk."
With that, Eddie sets a brutal pace, using Buck's neck to pull him up and down and pistoning his hips up with each pull, resulting in bruising strokes. His eyes are trained on Buck's, his free hand coming up to squeeze at Buck's pec.
"Look at the way your tits bounce, baby," he says, punctuating it with a sharp squeeze, fingers digging into soft flesh. "Fuck, they're so big. I'm gonna have to fuck these one day."
The thought of it, of Buck pushing his tits together to make a channel for Eddie to fuck, makes him moan louder. Eddie's grin is predatory, sharp canines visible between his lips. "Oh, you like that? You want my dick between your tits?"
"I want your dick everywhere," Buck manages to huff out truthfully, the words shaky with each thrust.
"Of course you do," Eddie groans. "You want me to mark up every inch of you with this cock, claim every little piece of you as mine. Because that's what you are, right? All mine, baby?"
His hand drops to Buck's cock, pulling at it harshly, his thumb pressing meanly into Buck's slit. Buck can feel his pleasure mounting, building, the tears streaming harder down his cheeks.
Eddie kisses them away. "You're so pretty when you cry, baby. You need to come? You can. Whenever you want. But I'm not getting out of you until I'm done."
It's what Buck was counting on, honestly. The combination of Eddie's dick inside him and the hand holding him, all wrapped up in the sweet praise and gentle kisses all added up to be too much. Or maybe not enough. Or maybe the perfect amount. Buck isn't so sure he can think well enough at the moment to really figure it out.
All it takes is a few more thrusts into his prostate, another squeeze around his length, and he's cresting, spilling into Eddie’s hands with soft sobs, shaking in his lap.
"Oh, good boy, good job," Eddie says soothingly, his hips not slowing.
Buck likes this part almost as much as he likes when Eddie wrings an orgasm out of him; he likes the intensity of sensation, when he's hypersensitive and Eddie is still going, still taking, his cock pulling painful pleasure out of him. He drops his head back onto Eddie's shoulder, panting heavily against his skin, tongue licking at the salty sweat.
Eddie grunts, thrusting a few more times until he buries himself deep into Buck's hole. Buck can feel the hot rush, wet heat warming him inside out.
They stay that way for a while, just breathing heavily into each other, bodies melting like butter into one another. Eventually, Eddie goes to lift Buck off, until Buck makes a noise of protest.
"Buck, baby, we're going to get sticky, " Eddie complains halfheartedly, already wrapping both arms tight around Buck's torso.
"Good," Buck groans. "I want us to be stuck together."
And, well, that isn't something Eddie can really argue with. And as they sit there together, skin tacky and Eddie's cock softening inside Buck, Buck can't help but think that maybe he doesn't mind slow shifts so much.