Archive of Our Own

"Maddie? Chim?" Buck calls into the Hans’ quiet house, Jee-Yun dozing on his back. It's been a long morning of enjoying the beach after a long night of staying up late with Chris, and they might have missed her afternoon nap time in favor of ice cream at the park. Now that the sugar crash is in full swing, Buck bets she'll sleep through the night. Chris probably will too; he's already passed out in the back of the Jeep.

Maddie and Chim will thank him, surely. Or at least Eddie will. Maybe.

Eddie, who trails in behind them with Jee's overnight bag, fingers tapping over the strap of her Disney princess backpack like the sugar's gotten to him, too. He's been like that a lot lately, Buck's noticed, ever since him and Marisol decided to call it quits months ago. Eddie still hasn't told him what caused it — what caused her to be moving in one day and out the next — but Buck has been doing his best not to push. Eddie will tell him when he's ready, and judging by the increasingly fidgety behavior whenever Buck's around (and he's been around a lot since then), he'll break sooner than later.

"In the kitchen!" Chimney calls, turning the corner to prove it. "You're just in time for dinner, if you want. Maddie's washing up now."

"Thanks, but Chris is already asleep in the car. I should probably get him back to his own bed." Eddie says absently, looking over the pile of shoes and the hatch of bobbles by the front door.

Chim hums. "Buck, what about you?"

Buck smiles apologetically. "Can't, we brought my car. Eddie's right, we should definitely get Chris home. He's irritated enough we made him come in the first place." He can stay home on his own, as he and Eddie have fought about recently. That doesn't mean Eddie ever wants him to be home alone. They're still working on that.

"At least let us send you on your way with something. It's the least we can do for you keeping her all day," Maddie says, emerging from the hallway while stretching her arms.

"It was no problem." Buck carries Jee over and lets Maddie take her, even when she winces under the weight. "Whoa, you good?"

Maddie averts her gaze. "Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine. Just pulled a muscle the other—"

"Wait, no, I take it back. Do not tell me anything about what you two were doing." Buck shivers at the thought, hopes they've got that vial of lust glitter locked up tight in a place Buck will never see. If he can ever get his hands on herba desiderii, he's getting it through Hen. He doesn't think he'd ever be able to look the Hans in the eyes if it went through them.

Horror dawns on Maddie as she realizes he knows, and Buck holds back laughter as his sister tears into her husband for saying anything (he didn't — Buck just knew Josh had a date instead of whatever thing Chim tried to convince him they were doing. The rest was easy to put together — but Buck's certainly not going to correct her. It's kind of incredible how she manages to snap at him without disturbing their daughter in her arms). She goads him back in the kitchen and Buck follows, sniffing the air at the warm, spicy scent of soup.

Meanwhile, Eddie's barely moved past the door, just tired enough that the charming little sculptures and little toys of Jee’s on the tall, wooden hutch distract him. A little known fact about Eddie Diaz is that he cannot keep his hands to himself. At least, this is true when he lets his guard down. And he doesn’t let it down often. But so far, everything that's happened in the past day has set him at ease in a way he hasn't felt for some time.

Since the breakup, he's been inviting Buck over all the time, and he almost always comes. It's been great, both of them single for the first time in a while, nowhere else to be but drinking beer on Eddie's couch or trying out a new recipe in Eddie's kitchen. This time was even better than most because Buck was the one who invited himself, for once, suggested they catch the game after shift and take Chris to the beach like they haven't done since before Marisol. Eddie's never really had a friend like that — someone to reach out when he doesn't, that he can rely on to be right there without being asked.

And to be clear, since Marisol and her damn revelation of revelations, when Eddie says he can't keep his hands to himself, he means Buck, mostly. He's always been like this a bit — sometimes it's teacups or a deck of cards that keeps his hands busy, and other times he runs his hands against walls while walking or taps his hands against his thighs incessantly, kind of like he's doing to Jee's bag right now. Sometimes, when he’s really jonseing and believes he’s completely alone, he’ll pull out a box from under his bed and pick up the same knitting project he’s been doing and undoing for almost a decade. He's pretty sure Buck found it once on a cleaning kick, but he's never mentioned it to Eddie himself; sometimes, Eddie just catches him staring at his fingers, whether they’re in motion or not. That’s usually how they end up on the dip of Buck’s shoulder, or the small of Buck’s back, or in the soft curls on the top of his head.

The point is, if he sees something interesting, he wants to touch it. Experience it. And lately, he's been thinking there's never been anything he wants to experience more than Buck, with his broad, built shoulders, his soft belly, his thick, capable thighs, all begging to be touched and so freely given when Eddie wants...

Although the glass vial of silver glitter on the very top shelf of the Hans' hatch does drive a hard bargain. He gently tosses Jee's backpack on the couch and stands on his toes to get a closer look.

As he reaches for it, his brain is already wondering why it's here and not with the presumable mountain of crafting tools Jee always brags about. Moreover, a glass vial is an interesting choice for anything designed for a child's hand. Maybe it's that polycarbonate stuff that feels like glass? The particles inside are fine as hell, so it makes sense the container's more durable.

Practically as soon as it’s in his hand, though, a shouted “don’t!” stills the room save for Buck, who breaks past Chim to evaluate the situation. The shock of it makes Eddie jump, and the vial slips through his hands and shatters on the hardwood floor of the entryway. A plume of glittery powder puffs up between his feet and clings to his shoes and pants.

So, definitely glass. 

“Oh, no.” Chimney groans, like this is the worst possible catastrophe he can think of.

“Shi— shoot, Chim. I’m really sorry. I can clean it up.” Eddie’s face flushes brilliant red. Behind him, Maddie looks equally concerned, maybe a little disappointed? And Jee-Yun, now awake and watching from her mother's arms, is the perfect mix of her parents, judging and pitying him simultaneously. He starts to bend down to at least gather up the glass, but is stopped when the sparkly cloud gets in his face, making him sneeze and sniffle.

“No, don’t— hang on,” he holds out a hand when Eddie tries to move toward them, telling him to stay where he is from the other side of the room. “Maddie, take Jee and get out of here.” Then, he turns to Buck. “I assume your keys are in the car with Chris?”

"Um, yeah?"

"And they have the key to Eddie's house, right?" Buck nods. "Good. Then we'll make sure he's taken care of and stay there tonight."

“What?” Buck laughs a little and looks at Eddie to commiserate, then trails off as he looks closer at the mess Eddie made. "Chimney..." Buck's voice wavers as his eyes blow wide, fixated on the glitter still swirling in the air and leaking into Eddie's shoes. His socks feel wet with it, somehow. "Tell me that's not what it looks like."

Chim glances over his shoulder as Maddie hustles Jee into the backyard, and as soon as they’re gone, he deflates a bit and looks straight at Eddie. "Take off your pants, shoes, and socks."

"What? Why?" Eddie protests, even though wearing less clothes suddenly sounds like a great idea. His body feels...odd. Hot. Sensitive. Enough that the minimal breeze of A/C running through the house feels like a glacial windstorm. It's kind of nice, what with the heat on his face on his face that won't stop building.

Chim glares, and for a second, he looks just like Cap. "I'm not kidding, Eddie. Take them off right now and leave them there."

Eddie's blush sneaks down his neck and chest as he strips. At least Chim has given him a modicum of privacy by turning to the stove and cutting off the heat. Somehow, it still feels like it's getting hotter in here — probably because he can’t look at Buck, but he just knows Buck didn’t look away. When Eddie stands straight, hands covering his black boxer briefs conspicuously, Chim turns with a grim expression.

“You, my friend, have just consumed a metric fuckton of sex pollen, and you probably have about 30 seconds for you two to work out your feelings on that before Eddie’s body takes over.” Buck bows his head in resignation, looking slightly miserable as Chim continues. “Um, just do the laundry and call us when you’re done? It lasted about six hours with one dose, but there was probably, like, ten doses in there, so…just call us, okay? And please don’t break our bed.” He starts backing up, holding his hands up at Eddie’s wide eyes and Buck’s wide mouth. “I’m really sorry about this, and we can talk about it more when, you know, but like you’re probably not gonna want me here in a few seconds so just—“

“Yeah, go.” Eddie says, voice strangled as his body stiffens...everywhere. The heat crawling up his spine blooms outward toward the most distal parts of his body. It takes maybe three seconds for flames of need to encroach on his brain, and he's suddenly very thankful he had the forethought to protect his modesty, at least from Chim. But Buck...Buck's not moving. "You too," he says, voice taking on a raspy quality.

"I will if you want me to," Buck starts. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but under the nerves, there's something else in his expression. Hunger? "But I think you're gonna want some help with this one."

"He's right, Eddie. This stuff is intense. You should have a partner help you through it." Chim stresses. For maybe the first time, Eddie can't find an ounce of humor on his face.

"Good thing I'm a great partner." Buck says, and Eddie doesn't care. He's finding it hard to think about anything except the pulsing feeling in his dick as it thickens and presses against his palms.

"Whatever, just," Eddie grits out. "If you're not staying, get out."

Chimney nods small and fast, stumbling over his feet in his haste to find the back door. “Yeah, so sorry. Soup's there if you want it. Buck, stay away from the mess, I’ll have to get Hen to help me—“

“Got it, Chim,” Buck snaps, because now he’s looking at Eddie, who’s pink, sweaty and pantsless, looking him over with wide open eyes that echo what he feels. Buck doesn’t think he has it in him to stop whatever Eddie’s about to do to him.

The back door slams shut in the same instant Eddie pounces. Buck catches him, but not until he nearly stumbles into the wall and loses his feet at the feeling of Eddie fucking Diaz licking into his mouth. It feels diminutive to call it a kiss, the way Eddie’s biting his tongue and licking the roof of his mouth like he owns it, the way their spit goes from tongue to tongue to chin to nose against stubble and sensitive skin.

"What the hell...what the hell..." Eddie can't stop muttering as he devours Buck's mouth. "What the hell is happening to me?"

"Hen and Chim..." Buck starts, and Eddie trails his lips down Buck's neck to let him speak. "They're kind of. Magic." he gasps as Eddie sucks over his larynx. "Like, real fucking magic. I know you don't really believe in that kind of thing but—"

"I'm rapidly reconsidering that," Eddie admits, stepping in closer like there's anywhere left for him to go. "I'm so...I need...I can't stop..." He tries and tries, and every sentence falls away as he licks over Buck's skin once again. His knees knock into Buck, and then he's melting into Buck's skin, molten and soft everywhere except where he's hard against Buck's thigh. "Please," he sobs when Buck gets the memo and slots their legs together.

Right away, Eddie's hips start moving, humping Buck in broad daylight and practically gagging at the feeling. Buck's whole body flashes hot and cold as his own cock gets pressed into Eddie's muscular thigh; even through layers of jeans and underwear, Buck can feel the way he flexes. It's the same rhythm Buck's using against Eddie.

"So this is..." Eddie tries again, forces himself to finish a thought, to recall anything of what Chim said in the last two minutes. "They made some kind of potion? And that's what I dropped?"

"Yeah. Hen said it's called herba desiderii...or as Chim said, sex pollen."

Well. Fuck. "I definitely believe that." As good as Buck's leg feels, it's not enough. Eddie shoves a hand between them to cup himself. His head lolls forward into Buck's shoulder as he moans. It feels like he's touching himself bare instead of through two layers — it feels like he should be bare. "I gotta—" he starts, then cuts himself off with the fabric of his shirt catching on his mouth. His hands are on his underwear before his shirt hits the floor. "I'm sorry, it's too hot. I need to get..." This time, the cutoff is intentional, Eddie's cheeks cherry red as he drops them and steps out of them, baring himself completely.

Jaw dropped, Buck watches intently, his gaze an entirely new heat source. It scorches down Eddie's torso until he gives in with a choked-out whimper, grabbing his cock tightly. He'd be embarrassed if he could feel anything but a fucking lust potion frying every neuron in his brain not centered on impulse and pleasure. "And you're...you sure you wanna stay for all of this?" Please be sure. He's understanding now why Chim said he'd need a partner, and Buck's right — if he needs a partner for anything, Buck will always be his first choice.

Buck takes his time answering, takes in every inch of pain and concern on Eddie's face; by the time he does, Eddie's hand is inching up his length. He can't help it anymore, sweat dripping down his neck as his whole torso clenches. Touching himself is the only thing that promises a modicum of relief, until: "I'll stay for as long as you want me here. I gotta admit, I've been dying to see it in action ever since Hen told me about it."

Eddie's exhale stutters and shakes. His grip on himself tightens, and Buck's eyes drift down until they lock in on the show. His wrist starts moving faster, and only then does Eddie let his own gaze follow a similar path.

Oh thank god — Buck is so fucking hard, and his gray sweats do nothing to conceal it.

"So you'll help me?" Eddie's pitch rises, vision blurring as his toes curl. Whether Buck's in this or not, their friendship is going to change forever in approximately 30 seconds.

It's like Buck knows, because he takes a step closer so Eddie can see him better. Eddie's hips thrust forward like they're trying to reach their destination.

Buck swallows, eyes flickering from Eddie's face to his naked dick. Slowly, he reaches forward until his hand covers the curve of Eddie's waist. The bare skin burns like a brand.

"Yeah. I've got you, Eddie." Buck promises, and Eddie comes.

"Oh god, thank you, thank you," Eddie stutters as his eyes squeeze shut. Buck's fingers press hard into the top of Eddie's ass, practically begging him to shoot his entire load on Buck's shirt. Eddie needs little convincing, too out of it to do anything more than aim and moan.

That same hold on Eddie's waist is what keeps him upright as he relishes the slight relief and the shine of budding sweat on Buck's neck. Judging by the churning in his gut, there are seconds, a minute maybe, until the simmering itch consumes him again. "I need you to fuck me now." he says, sounding much more confident than he feels as he drags Buck down the lightly familiar hallway. At least the name of the potion itself is pretty self-explanatory: have sex, feel better. Right?

Buck seems taken aback, and he digs his feet in just a bit. "Wait, really? Have you done that before?"

But Eddie might cry if Buck denies him right now. He can't even feel bad for playing dirty, turning around and making sure his big, brown eyes are bigger, browner, glimmering with the fever of arousal. Or maybe just fever. "You'll make sure it's good for me, right? You always make me feel good." And then, because he can see the nerves tinging Buck's stance, he leans in and puts his hands over Buck's cheeks. "I trust you, okay? There's no one I'd trust more with this." It was true when he said it years ago, and it's even truer now. Eddie would trust Buck to take over his entire world.

Eddie can watch the way Buck wraps himself around Eddie's finger, and it settles something in him that lets him lose the rest of his mind. All that's left is his stupid, hopeful heart. "Yeah, okay," Buck assures, cupping a hand around Eddie's neck. "Whatever you need."

Eddie kisses him. Really kisses him this time, a little gentler but no less passionate. This isn't how he wanted to do things — never would have imagined it even possible — but if this is how he gets Buck, begging and crying and burning, he'll take it over nothing. Backwards, he guides them down the hall like he lives here, towards the door at the very end where Maddie and Chim's room lies.

Buck catches his hand on the bathroom doorway as they stumble past. Eddie whimpers when their lips disconnect. "Just need a couple of seconds, I promise," Buck soothes, already halfway in the room and throwing open the closet behind the door. It takes him four seconds to find the Han's stock of fresh sheets, another three to grab the lot save one, and another two to return to Eddie's trembling arms. He throws the sheets over his shoulder to grab Eddie. "'S okay, it's okay. Just need to make the bed, and I'll do whatever you want."

"It hurts," Eddie says. "It's so much." Like fire ants biting into his veins. Maybe it would be a pleasant tingle if he'd had a mere fraction of the powdery cloud he inhaled, but as it is only serves to overwhelm him. The only thing that helps is the steady pressure of Buck's hands grabbing his waist, of their legs bumping and lips molded together. "Need...need you, please."

Somewhere behind him, a blanket flutters out, and then he's being pressed onto a soft, thick mattress. When did they get here? Eddie has little time to contemplate this because as soon as the sheets hit his bare skin, Buck is throwing his body over Eddie's and crowding him into the bed with dirty, sucking kisses that demand his attention. If this is what he's in for, all of Buck's focus and passion centered on him, Eddie's not sure he's going to survive it without spilling all his unsavory feelings as easily as a climax.

Buck's almost positive he's not going to survive this. Eddie's already shaking apart in his hands, needing him to do anything and everything he can think of. Frankly, Buck's not sure how much of the shaking is Eddie and how much of it is symptom, but he'll be damned if he lets the latter lie. Eddie's skin is hot to the touch, palms of fire rucking up his shirt so Eddie can grab and pull at his body uninhibited. But no, that's not what Buck wants. This isn't about Buck (can't be about Buck, if he has any hope of salvaging their friendship later). And he thinks there's something even better for both of them.

Eddie makes a high little noise in the back of his throat when Buck pulls back and fists Buck's shirt between them. "Where...where are you going?"

Buck can't help it if that fond smile he only ever gives Eddie gets past his defenses. "I'm not going anywhere, Eddie. We're in this together," he swallows. "Just like work."

Eddie barely releases his grip, and Buck takes the chance to drop to his knees and hoist Eddie's ass to the edge of the bed. Oh, god, Eddie's ass. It looks heavenly on a bad day, and today was not a bad day (it's one of the best days either of them has had in a long time, he happens to know). Not even now, face to face with Eddie's massive fucking cock, can he find it in himself to regret anything that's led him right here.

Has Buck been waiting for years to get Eddie’s dick in his mouth? Yes, at least subconsciously — he can admit that now that there's no turning back.

Is he going to come the second Eddie gets anywhere near his own? Yes, probably.

Is he maybe a little bit entirely in love with Eddie, and kneeling between his legs feels a bit like a religious experience? Yes, absolutely.

Is he going to make Eddie aware of any of this? Not until he has to. Which, if he has his way, will be the Saturday after “never.”

The sex pollen doesn’t seem to take this into consideration.

When Buck was chomping at the bit to get even the chance to try it out, the thought of doing so with Eddie was not even a blip in his brain. It was a thought so obscenely ridiculous that he didn’t let himself consider it unless it was late at night and he was in the hazy, desperate state between the edge and orgasm.

And yet here they are, Eddie’s bobbing, heavy cock leaking between them, Buck on his knees ready to consume it whole. From this angle, he can see a smear of come still wet on the underside, much thicker and whiter than the precome drenching the head. Buck can’t help but lick it up first, praying Eddie doesn’t notice.

“Oh my fucking god,” a reverent voice groans above him, and Buck thinks he’s probably good.

Buck hums in agreement, and Eddie jolts. He curls into Buck, fisting his hair and gasping as he sucks on the head. Eddie tastes slick and salty on his tongue, and Buck rubs it all over to get every bit. Then, he takes a breath and sinks down.

Eddie's hand tightens in his curls, but he doesn't push. He's still as a statue as Buck takes another inch, and then another, until he's got over half of it and the head brushes his throat. Eddie doesn't even breathe until he hums again and swallows around him, when it all leaks out on a heavy exhale full of moans. "Buck. Baby," he sighs as one of Buck's hands wrap around the base, and it's impossible not to feel the man shiver under him. "Your mouth is so good," he continues, and is rewarded when Buck starts bobbing his head. Eddie still doesn't push, but he does tug just enough to get Buck's attention.

Oh, Buck is so fucked. Above him, Eddie bites the side of his bottom lip, plump and red from their kissing. His eyes are glossy, but present, and they twinkle until the twilight coming in through the window. His flushed, golden skin glistens, and mussed strands of hair fall into his long lashes. And all of his focus is on Buck.

Eddie knows he's going to hell for thinking Buck has never looked more beautiful than with Eddie's cock in his mouth. His blue eyes are brighter than ever as they tear up every time Eddie hits the back of his throat. His lips and birthmark are the same shade of scarlet, and as his curls start sticking to his damp forehead, all he seems to care about is making Eddie enjoy it. It feels like he's taking Eddie deeper every time, and maybe he is as he relaxes under Eddie's hold. His whole body gets a little looser as he loses himself in the motions, eyes drifting half closed and tongue flicking unpredictably. If he hadn't already come once, Eddie would never have made it this far. Even now, it's hardly been a few minutes and he can feel a new peak approaching. "Buck," he says with a little tug, and the man's eyes fly wide open again. "I'm close," he rasps, hoping he doesn't blush.

Thankfully, this encourages Buck, and he doesn't look long enough to notice. Instead, he doubles down on the sucking and increases his speed, practically gagging on nearly every thrust. Eddie would tell him not to hurt himself if it didn't feel so damn good. He only has the wherewithal to give Buck one more warning before releasing into his mouth with a few ragged thrusts.

Buck barely has time to swallow before he's being hauled up by the shirt and Eddie drags him into bed, reattaching their lips and swiping his tongue inside like it's a search party. He licks out what little release remains and swallows the combination of them, spit and semen sharp on his taste buds. Buck towers over Eddie now, and that nagging need returns — not just for an orgasm, but a specific kind. The blowjob might have been the best one Eddie's ever had, but that doesn't change the pulsing desire in him begging to be filled.

It's not a thought Eddie's ever had in relation to himself, and it's almost as terrifying as it is thrilling. Would be, probably, if it were anyone but Buck here with him. He trusts Buck with a lot more than his body every single day. And if Buck breaks him like this, it's still the least pain he could cause Eddie.

There are much worse ways to shatter.

"Please be here," Buck mutters into their kiss, and Eddie faintly hears a nightstand drawer open. "Thank goodness," he says seconds later, breaking this kiss to show Eddie his prize: lube. "I was not looking forward to opening the drawer on Maddie's side."

Eddie makes a note to snoop when he's done with Buck. Personally, he thinks Maddie would definitely have something interesting hidden away. "Buck..." he whines for now, letting his legs fall open shamelessly. There's no place for shame here, for nerves or questions or fear. All there is is the heat burning through Eddie's body and the bugling in Buck's pants that promises to ease it.

"Have you, um," Buck swallows repeatedly, his gaze drawn between Eddie's legs. They linger on his hands, holding his thighs apart. "Used your fingers before?" Neither of them mention the way his voice cracks.

"Not really." He'd been curious once or twice, but he'd always chickened out before he did anything productive.

Buck swallows again. It takes him two tries to open the bottle of lube. "Okay. Okay." He mutters to himself as he coats a few fingers. "Tell me if it hurts, okay? Or if you...have any suggestions. Desires." His eyes dilate.

Eddie jerks when Buck's warm, wet fingers graze the skin of his ass. "Sorry," Eddie says, squeezing his eyes shut as the burning in his face intensifies.

"Easy, tiger," Buck bites back a smile. "I told you I'll make it good for you."

It doesn't take much.

Eddie jerks again when Buck swipes between his cheeks and the tip of a finger catches on his rim. This time, an startlingly high-pitched moan accompanies it. The boiling under his skin makes everything so sensitive. "Okay," Buck says again, and it sounds a lot like awe.

Eddie's never moaned like this in his life. As Buck defiles him with a single pointer finger, he finds he can't stop.

"Eddie," Buck gasps like he's the one getting sex-pollen fingered by his best friend, and if that image doesn't make Eddie's dick twitch plain as day between them; he didn't even notice himself getting hard again before now. "Fuck, Eddie," Buck says and adds another finger, curling them up and massaging Eddie from the inside.

And then Buck nudges against something that makes everything — the itch and the heat and the shame — fizzle out of existence. "Oh my god, that," he whines, and can't even feel embarrassed about it. He can't feel remorse for how he thrusts himself down on Buck's fingers, either. Buck actually looks pretty thrilled by the development, based on the glimpse Eddie gets before his eyes roll back in his head.

"Right here?" Buck rubs it again, the curve of a smirk starting in the corner of his lips.

"Yeah— fuck— Buck, please— you have to—" Eddie hiccups, hands flailing out to white-knuckle the sheets. Buck doesn't think he's even trying to clench so tightly around his fingers, and it only makes Buck want more.

"I don't know that they have any condoms." Buck states for clarity's sake more than anything.

"Doesn't matter," Eddie pants, tries to keep his breathing even like the thought of Buck in him raw doesn't put him right on the edge of orgasm. "Not to me."

Buck's free hand flies to his crotch. "Fuck, Eddie." he repeats like the words are carved into his brain.

"Good plan. I like that plan a lot," Eddie shoots back with fast, flighty nods, spreading his legs even further and inadvertently taking those blunt fingers deeper. "Take off your pants, Buck."

Buck's sweats and boxer briefs are down to his knees before Eddie's done speaking. He eases his fingers out of Eddie to take them off the rest of the way and rids himself of his come-stained shirt while he's at it. Eddie might be feverish and hallucinating, but he swears Buck's body shines under his gaze. Eddie's hole clenches involuntarily when he takes in Buck's cock, ruddy and thick and wet-headed; it might fill him too well.

"Eddie? You with me?" Buck asks, sounding far away even kneeled between his legs. It's only then Eddie feels how heavy his eyelids are, how they droop with his sapping energy. Nausea rolls in with waves of scorching heat, and the clenching in his insides turns to cramps.

"Yeah...need it, Buck. Need you." He lifts his thousand-pound hand and claws onto Buck's shoulder, pulling their bodies together so Buck's skin cools his.

"Christ, you're burning up," Buck mutters and scrambles for the lube in the sheets. "Any other symptoms?"

"You can roleplay as my doctor later. Just fuck me!" Eddie barks, blinking tears back with his heavy, irritated eyelids.

Buck freezes, turns cold as ice for a split second before thawing through. "Yeah. Yeah, sorry." He breathes shakily as wet stroking sounds slick between them. "I'm sorry this is happening." The thick, wet head of his cock drags through Eddie's crack. "I'm gonna make it better, though, alright?"

Buck shifts forward just a little, the tip pressing in just enough to stretch. "You always do," Eddie sighs and thrusts back to meet him.

Far, far away, somewhere on the floor at the foot of the bed, Buck's phone blares a cartoony fire engine noise — his special ringtone for all members of the 118 (Eddie has his own special one, a gentle chime similar to Chris's special ringtone). "Please, no." Eddie groans, grabbing onto Buck's forearms with a clawlike grasp.

"I'm not going anywhere, Eddie. I promise," Buck says, then slides in a little deeper. The head of Buck's cock is wide and thick, and even the stupid whine of the ringtone fades away as a fullness reconfigures everything Eddie's ever known about sex.

Eddie's always loved sex, from the very first time he went down on Shannon. It's pretty obvious he loves sex, he thinks, given the Christopher of it all, and that won't ever change. He loves watching someone fall apart because of him, loves knowing he's doing something right when they hold him close and beg for more, loves the feeling of hot, wet pleasure coaxing out the perfect orgasm.

This is all of that, and then some. Is it possible that he's lived more than 30 years without ever once feeling whole? Because that's what this is, Eddie realizes as Buck's balls press warm against his ass, one arm holding him up over Eddie's body. His eyes are dark and dilated, bright and feverish as he looks down on Eddie like he can't believe he's there. "This what you need?" he whispers, their faces inches apart. His voice still breaks on the last word.

Eddie's so full, so whole that he can't find the words to explain it. All he has is a whine and a nod and his hands, sinking further into Buck's skin until he's sure there will be bruises, five-point touches on both forearms where Eddie claims him, has him, needs him.

Buck's phone, which must have stopped at some point, screams to life again, somehow louder than before. Buck groans and rests his head on Eddie's shoulder. "It might be Chim." The words muffle and vibrate against Eddie's skin.

"He knows how to text," Eddie manages to wheeze out before Buck shifts just enough to light up his prostate. "Please," he begs, hips hitching in minuscule thrusts, unconsciously trying to pull Buck closer.

"Jesus, Eddie," Buck replies, lifts his head, and moves.

Eddie always assumed that the full feeling of being entirely connected was the best part, but it has nothing on the delicious drag out, the rolling grind Buck pulls when he dives back in. It scratches the exact itch that's been radiating through his body for the past thirty minutes (oh god, he realizes when he catches his watch out of the corner of his eye. It hasn't even been an hour since they stepped inside Chim and Maddie's house, and things only seem to keep ramping up. How long will this last?), pulling out little mewls and hiccups he has no hope of hiding. Certainly not when Buck's watching him like a hawk, towered over him and moving his body like a dancer's: fluid, smooth, unceasing. Eddie's hands move up his muscular arms, cup his elbows on the way up until they feel the flexing movements of Buck's biceps, until their armband tattoos align, sparking his lust into an inferno. "Just like that, Buck, oh my god, fuck, fuck—"

The phone rings again. Buck pauses for a split second, and the buildup ceases. Eddie cries out in misery and slams his head back on the pillows. "Just get the damn phone," he snaps. He has to blink away tears when Buck pulls out and that emptiness he never noticed before returns.

In the time it takes for their skin to reconnect, Eddie's covered his face in an attempt to muffle the sniffles. He's not even sure why he's crying, if it's the potion or the emptiness or just him, desperate for the connection he's never considered before. Maybe it's Buck, here and ready and willing and sliding back in oh-so-gently, phone abandoned on the mattress beside them so Buck can pry at Eddie's hands. "Hey, hey, it's okay." Buck soothes. "I'm sorry, I'm back, I'm right here with you."

Eddie takes a deep, shuddering inhale, whines weakly as Buck fills him yet again and stays there. "Better?" he asks, and Eddie nods and nods. "Good. You think you'll be okay if I stay like this for a few minutes? Hen's called me five times. Six," he amends as the screen lights up again.

"I don't know," Eddie says, wrapping his legs around Buck's thighs and moaning as it tilts Buck even deeper inside.

"Fuck. Fuck," Buck stutters, rocking in once, twice, bracing himself on Eddie's collarbone. "Two minutes. Just need...to see what she wants."

"She's gonna..." Eddie cries. "She's gonna hear me. She's gonna know." Know that he's getting his absolute shit rocked by one Buck Buckley. Currently. Actively. Consecutively.

"I think it's a little late for that." Buck grimaces, taking his phone in hand. The other one squeezes Eddie's shoulder, then trails up his neck and over his jaw until it rests over Eddie's mouth. Eddie's eyes widen, then he nods slowly, calves urging Buck closer until there's nowhere for him to go. "Just count for me, okay? Two minutes." Eddie's wide, glassy eyes blink up at him, and Buck shivers before he forces himself to answer the call.

"I really cannot talk right now, Hen," Buck says tightly as his hand flexes over Eddie's mouth.

"I know, I'm sorry, I just need you to know what you're dealing with." Hen speaks like they're stuck in a fire and she needs him to listen. "Do you remember how you explicitly asked if this was some fuck or die shit?"

Eddie's eyes widen further as the echo reaches his ears, and tears spill out the sides. Buck flexes his fingers to wipe some away. "And you explicitly told me it wasn't like that?" he bites back.

"Yeah. Well, that might not be true with an overdose." The words rush out like a virus. "I need to know that you can take care of him. For however long it lasts."

"And how long—" Buck gasps as his hips twitch involuntarily, and Eddie's throat tightens with a muffled whimper. "How long do you think it'll last?"

Hen is quiet for too long. Eddie's legs constrict more around Buck's hips as he trembles. "Hen!"

"I don't know, Buck! Hopefully not more than a day?"

"A DAY?" The yell is clear, even muffled under Buck's hand.

"Maybe less!" Hen tries unconvincingly. "He has a fever, right?" And when Buck confirms it: "Okay. So his body's working to burn it off. You're helping him. Chim's going to get you some...supplies. If you think you can make it through the night, I'll bring them by first thing in the morning and make sure everything gets cleaned up..."

She goes on, saying something about how Chris is cared for and Chim, Maddie, and Jee are fine to stay with him until Eddie is better. Buck doesn't catch much of the specifics after that, because Eddie? Eddie's fucking fluttering around him, trembling in his arms trying to hold back. More tears track into his hairline, and Buck has to rock forward. He just has to.

"Hen," he finally groans, having not been listening to her for some time now. "I can't...we gotta go." he says, then taps the red button on his phone until the call disappears. He tries to put a reminder in his brain to text her an apology, but he's pretty sure it fails to save when Eddie grinds down on him again, looking up into Buck's eyes like he's seeing some kind of god.

"Shit, Eddie," he pants, flushing under the prolonged eye contact. Neither of them can seem to look away as Buck removes his hand from Eddie's mouth and resumes rolling his hips in just the right way to make them gasp.

"Am I going to die?" Eddie squeaks out helplessly.

"No. Absolutely not." Buck snaps. He cradles Eddie's cheek, leftover drool and sweat making them slick even there. "You're going to stay right here on my cock for however long it takes you to be okay again."

Somehow, something in those words is enough to send Eddie over the edge again, crying and clenching and scrabbling for Buck's hands like they're the only things keeping him tethered. It's nearly enough for Buck to follow him; as Eddie's body spurts between them and begs to milk Buck empty, he squeezes his eyes shut and lists every call from their last shift in his head, tries not to listen to Eddie saying his name like a prayer until he stops doing that thing to Buck's cock.

Unfortunately, that's right about the time Eddie whines again — the in pain version — and starts moving his hips to pull Buck in further. "Please, please, please," he mutters to himself, eyes still closed, fingers tight around Buck's.

"God, Eddie," Buck repeats like it's his mantra, all thoughts of blood and sirens fading away as Eddie sucks his lower lip into his mouth. "You need more?" Buck's hips hitch once, twice in excitement, jumping at the chance to resume chasing pleasure.

Eddie has other plans. Before Buck can resume in earnest, he's flat on his back, Eddie's strong legs tangled with his own. "Did you just use muay Thai on me?" Buck pants.

"That move is only legal in street fighting," Eddie replies with a breathless smile, eyes shut and head thrown back as he tests a roll of his hips. "Oh, fuck. 'S so deep."

"Yeah?" He matches Eddie's movements and props himself up on his elbows.

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. “I didn’t know you could actually feel it in your throat. What the hell.”

“What the hell,” Buck repeats. “I’m gonna come if you keep talking like that.”

Eddie shivers around him, then bounces slowly a few times to get the hang of it. The come still on his chest drips down and gets caught in his happy trail. “What’s that Firehose refractory period like?”

Buck smacks the side of his ass, does it again when Eddie moans and grinds against him. “Not that long…shorter when I’m giving head.” He grabs two handfuls of Eddie’s ass and helps guide him in an exquisite roll. “You ever been eaten out before?”

Eddie squeezes him tight at that, and all the breath escapes his lungs. "I'll take that— as a no," Buck chokes out. "There's so much we can do with that perfect ass of yours."

Eddie's legs tremble around Buck, and as his face flames red, he manages out, "y-yeah?"

"You heard Hen. If we have a whole day of this, we might as well make the most of it, right?" Let me make the most of it, Buck sends a prayer out to whoever is listening.

Buck's never dated a man before, but he has slept with them. More than once. And sure, he enjoyed himself, but none of them have felt like this. It's part of the reason he's never really thought of himself as bisexual. Maybe, before this, he was heteroflexible at most (at least, according to the Reddit chart he'd found after he freaked out following the first time), but now...

It doesn't help that it's coming after nearly 48 hours straight with Eddie — after shift, they'd split only long enough to nap for a few hours. Then Buck had retrieved Jee-Yun from daycare and Eddie Chris, and the four had converged on Eddie's house. They'd spent all night watching the game, then movies, keeping an eye on Chris and Jee as they made up a game that only made sense to them. Far later into the night than they should have allowed, Chris was forced into his room and Jee swaddled up on the couch, leaving Buck nowhere to sleep except Eddie's queen-sized mattress, both large enough and not.

And then there was today. A morning at the beach, swapping sunscreen and towels, moving in sync as they got Chris and Jee out the door to the cool water lapping over their feet. Tacos from a truck that made a mess of their suits (and Eddie's gleaming, golden chest, a trail of birria and guacamole served on the most enticing plate) until they ran into the ocean to wash off. An afternoon visit to the park for ice cream, and a quick drive home to shower and change before dropping Jee off at home. It's something of a miracle they haven't gotten tired of one another yet — or, at least, Eddie hasn't gotten tired of Buck. Buck's not sure it's possible for him to get tired of Eddie. Certainly not now that he knows how good the man is in bed — as infuriatingly excellent as he is at everything else he does.

God, this is going to destroy him, being only what Eddie needs now and nothing more. Tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that, they'll fall out of bed and clean up in the Hans' shower. Separately, because this is only temporary. Maybe Eddie will crack a joke while they're getting dressed, or Buck will break first to diffuse the tension and swear that nothing will change. And Eddie will give him that beautiful smile and a bashful "Thanks, Buck," and they will never talk about it again. The indelible thought settles in the back of his throat and makes him gasp when the next wave of pleasure hits him. He loves Eddie, loves him so bad that he'll break his own heart just to keep him around.

Buck should be relieved in that security, that they've been through death and back and absolutely nothing could break them, but this...this feels bigger than death.

Instead of saying any of that, Buck blinks away tears and fixes his face with a wolfish smile. "You picked a very good person to be sex pollened with."

"I didn't pick—" Eddie tries, but cuts himself off when he slams down on Buck's cock again.

"You didn't? No one made you pick up that vial." Buck teases, voice tight, and when Eddie tries to protest: "Yeah, yeah, you didn't know what it was. But who goes into someone's house and just starts picking shit up?"

"Lesson. Fucking. Learned," he growls out, punctuating each word with a rise and fall of his hips. "After this 'm never coming here again."

"Ditto," Buck says. "We're gonna have to fumigate the fuck out of this place before Jee comes back."

Eddie's hands slap onto Buck's pecs as he shifts his position, and Buck can't help but whine out when his fingers dig into them. He's never been with someone as strong as Eddie, and he can already tell his body's going to show it by the time they're done, red and blue and purple like his body is Eddie's canvas. And with Eddie perched above him, working himself artfully over Buck's full length repeatedly, he finds himself fighting his body as it pulls him to the edge. "Eddie, Eddie," he holds the sweet curve of Eddie's waist, unsure if it's to motivate or stop him. "You're so...I'm gonna..."

"Yeah?" Eddie's thighs tense as he moves faster. "You like it when someone rides you?"

"Mhmm," Buck replies before planting his feet and thrusting up. Eddie chokes in surprise and falls forward, panting in Buck's face as his cock rolls over Buck's belly. "Almost as much as you like riding me, apparently."

"It's the...I think...the potion...it wants...fuck." He cuts off every time Buck's pelvis meets his ass. "Never even...thought about it before." Liar.

Buck's lips twist. "But it's okay?"

"Baby," Eddie tries again to get Buck to relax under him. It works like a charm, and Buck hates himself for it. "It's so okay. So, so, so okay. Never...felt so full. You're so good, baby."

Buck's head thrashes against the pillows as Eddie surrounds him, placing his elbows on either side of Buck's head and rocking back to meet Buck's movements. His body is moving without him as his balls draw tight and he clings to Eddie's waist, dragging him up and down in the perfect rhythm to send him over the edge.

You're so good, baby, he repeats Eddie's words in his head, and with one more thrust, he sheathes himself deep inside and comes with a breathy sob.

Even with Buck's hands holding him in place, Eddie fights the stillness, fucking himself back as Buck fills him with wet warmth. He's so hot already that it hardly registers, and even as Buck hisses with overstimulation, Eddie finds there's nothing he can do but take more. "Sorry, sorry, it's..." Eddie trails off, feeling Buck soften in little increments. He still feels perfect inside.

"Yeah," Buck grits out as come leaks down his shaft, at least minimizing the friction. His hips buck uncontrollably as pleasure fades into pain, and when he falls out of Eddie entirely, he has to cover his spent cock to keep Eddie's hole from finding it again. "Mercy, please, shit." he pleads, forcing away the feeling of failure in his gut. He did make Eddie come three times before his body gave in, but it doesn't make him feel any better when Eddie rolls onto his back beside him, staring forlornly at Buck's dick. He keeps staring as he wraps a hand around his own and uses his other fingers to play at his entrance. "Can I ask how you're feeling now that I've fucked you?" Buck asks as he catches his breath.

It takes Eddie a moment to collect his thoughts, touching himself only enough to keep the lust at bay. "Um...tired? A little nauseous? And..." he inhales sharply as one of his fingers presses past his rim. "Horny. Really fucking horny." A twitch of Buck's dick on his stomach draws Eddie's attention again. "How long until you can fuck me again?"

Christ. Even a hand on his dick feels like too much right now, given all the other beautiful stimulation happening in front of him. But when Eddie's brows draw together petulantly as his finger seeks out that perfect angle, Buck finds the energy to persevere. He presses a kiss to Eddie's forehead. "Soon, I promise. In the meantime, though, roll over."

Eddie grabs himself tighter and removes his other hand, rolling face first into the pillows and getting on his knees. Buck moves just as fast, and Eddie spreads his legs apart automatically for Buck to kneel behind him. And yeah, that's it. Eddie's ass on a silver platter all for him, rim stretched and pulsing and decorated with his come. He can already feel his cock straining to come back to life, and he doesn't waste any time in grabbing Eddie's ass up close.

"I've never had the chance to tell you that you have a tremendous ass. Objectively," he says, spreading the cheeks and digging fingers into the glorious muscles. Eddie only cries out when he pulls back and slaps one side. "I could watch that all night," he speaks to the rippling skin.

"You'll have to wait until tomorrow for that. Please, Buck," Eddie's plea is muffled in the pillows, but when he pushes back so nicely, exposing himself further, what else is Buck supposed to do?

Buck ducks forward and licks a full circle around the rim, and Eddie goes boneless as the tip of his tongue inches inside. "Oh, that's...yes!" Eddie shouts, already pushing onto Buck's face. His nose and cheeks are wet with lube in seconds, but beneath that, it's more Eddie than he's ever had before, sinking into his skin, up his nose, down his throat. He feels a little high with it, the feeling buzzing through his body and taking the blood where it's needed most.

He takes his time with Eddie, mostly because he seems to be somewhat okay as long as he has a tongue or a finger inside 80% of the time. The other part of him is starting to conserve his energy where he can. Hopefully not more than a day, Hen had said. Six hours, ten doses, Chim had said.

He's never hoped Hen is right more. If Eddie's like this the whole time...Buck's loved sex for a majority of his life, and even he's a little daunted by 24 hours of it. But Eddie trusts him to see him through, and really, if anyone has the training for it, it's Buck. Even if he didn't know Eddie like the back of his hand and wasn't harboring the world's largest, most inconvenient crush, Buck does have some, well, experience in the world of edging and overstimulation.

Which is probably why it takes him less than ten minutes to recoat his shaft with a thick layer of lube and slide back into Eddie's wet, waiting hole. Like this, Buck can watch how well Eddie takes every inch of him, and his head ends up on the back of Eddie's neck as he presses onto him from legs to shoulders. Eddie falls quickly under the weight and fatigue, but that doesn't stop him from moaning out a stream of yesyesyesyesthankyouBuck as a few drops of come spill from his slit. If Buck had ever thought about it (read: he has), he never would have pegged Eddie for the polite type.

Eddie isn't entirely sure of the words coming out of his mouth, but they must be coherent enough not to worry Buck. His brain is on another plane of existence at the moment, and even if Buck were worried, he's not sure he'd be able to do anything about it. Buck's cock helps, though, an anchor point that soothes an itch in his groin he can't reach himself. He doesn't understand how everything can feel so good and so bad at the same time, and he's lost the capacity to question it. The good thing is, Buck murmurs back: short, sweet sentences his brain mostly comprehends, praises of feels so good and you take me so well and use me, you have me.

That one makes him come once, and again ten minutes later.

But honestly, if there's anyone who should be told they're good here, it's Buck, on his knees behind him and practically holding the bottom half of Eddie's weight up to fuck him right. Eddie's not sure how he's managed not to come again yet, but it might have something to do with the way he pulls back every few minutes just enough to squeeze around the base of his cock. Eddie doesn't mind much; as long as Buck is in him, the desire coursing through him isn't painful as much as it is uncomfortable. Eddie's lost track of how many times he's shuddered with orgasm by now, most of them dry and untouched as Buck slams in from behind (which. Wow. He didn't realize either of those were actual things that could happen).

Buck, though? He's counting every one like a badge of honor. He's half delirious himself with how many times he's almost tipped over the edge by now. Four was the most times Taylor had gotten out of him before he'd ruined himself, and he's going on six. But he wants every climax Eddie's ever had seared into his brain, and if he can't have that, this will have to do.

Damn, though. Every time Eddie keens and begs, it gets harder to stop, and he thinks it might be making him go harder on Eddie, too. Eddie, who is practically incoherent now, wailing and gasping in time with Buck, far beyond being able to tell Buck if he's gone too far.

I trust you, okay? There's no one I'd trust more with this.

Eddie trusts him to know. And right now, the only thing he knows is that he has to come. For Eddie, of course.

Buck knows the second he catapults over the edge that it's going to be a bit harder to come back from this one. The near-shout of Eddie's name scratches his throat on the way out, and he jackhammers into Eddie so hard that he collapses underneath him again. He rolls off as soon as stars stop dancing in his vision, and Eddie's back on him just as fast, honing in on the sweet spot below his ear and rubbing a hand over his nipple. "Up," Eddie grunts. "Need more." He gets back on his knees and hauls Buck up with him.

"Eddie, I'm not—" Buck loses his train of thought when Eddie presents himself and waves his ass invitingly. He finds the lube in the pillows and holds it out to Buck. "It's going to be a minute before I can get hard again." he admits, ducking his head.

"S'fine, s'fine," Eddie insists, drizzling more lube over Buck himself. He adjusts his position so he's open right in front Buck before reaching back and forcing his dick in himself. "Don't need you to be hard, just need you inside."

After that, time stops existing for a while. All there is is Eddie, splitting himself open as he fucks back on Buck's half-hard cock. It misses the mark almost as much as it hits dead on, but it's like he can't quit. And Buck's hardly going to complain at watching that plump, impeccable ass jiggle against his belly, at watching his cock slide up Eddie's slick crack, the head of it peeking out between those thick globes...well, if he can't get totally hard, he can at least enjoy the view.

After some time, though, that stops being enough. Eddie's fever spikes higher — high enough that his entire body goes red and splotchy, that his breaths start being nothing more than puffed pants. Buck tries to put his tongue to use again, drags Eddie down onto his face and feasts, but Eddie's legs give out as dizziness overcomes him. Buck switches to his hand, then his other hand when that one wears out. Blowjobs help ease some of it, but the longer things go on, the less helpful they seem to be; even when they have Eddie crying in pleasure, the ensuing orgasm does little to soothe the aches and fever.

And Eddie comes. He comes for a tenth time, and an eleventh, and again, dry and twitching with heavy sobs that sound like heaves. His language has shortened to a litany of "please" and "Buck" and "more" and "thank you" and "fuck, fuck, fuck." His weak hands scrabble for anything they can find, sliding clumsy and wet over Buck's skin. And still, he needs more.

"Do you think," he manages out in the seconds after he comes (orgasm number 15, maybe) before the next round reclaims his brain. "They have a cucumber? Or like...anything?"

It's going on two in the morning, and the only 24/7 sex shop Buck knows of is too far away to deliver. By the time anything else opens, Hen will surely be here with whatever Chim got them. They just have to make it a few more hours.

Half an hour later (more or less), it becomes clear Eddie might not have a few hours. He takes over for himself when Buck has to use the bathroom, and Buck returns to him stuffing three fingers up his ass, exhaustion clear in his every move. He's pale, and Buck can see his jugular pulsing irregularly from across the room. "Please, Buck," Eddie begs, voice weaker than Buck's ever heard him. "You have to fuck me again. I'll do anything."

And that...that does a lot, actually, to perk his flaccid cock up almost to full mast. He's definitely about to take Eddie up on that. But what about after that? Isn't it just delaying the inevitable of him literally fucking himself to death?

And then Buck has an idea.

A perfect idea, really.

A genius, stupid, idiotic idea.

He should get an award for managing not to fall back into bed right away, especially when Eddie croaks his name again. Buck takes a step back so he's not tempted — if he doesn't do this now, he's not sure he'll be able to get out of bed again. “I’ll be right back, okay? I’ll be right back, and I’ll fuck you again as soon as I am, alright?”

Beyond words, Eddie just looks at him, something pleading in his eyes. But past that, there's trust, and he inclines his head slowly, eyes both here and not.

Buck doesn't waste any time sprinting to the living room and dropping to his knees by the front door. The vial seems to have broken cleanly into three pieces; between them and Eddie's clothes is a translucent puddle of glittery potion. It had clearly been a powder as it clouded around Eddie's legs, but it looks more liquid now, spread across a small patch of the floor like mud.

Beside it all, attached to two threads, is a tiny brass spoon with a skull carved around the handle.

And, well, Buck’s seen Bridgerton. He knows what that’s for.

The snuff spoon is cold to the touch, but it grows warm when he uses it to scoop up a bit of herba desiderii. Whatever state of matter it is, it's dry and fine on the spoon, so it should work. Hopefully.

He can't picture Hen or Chim (or god forbid, Maddie) snorting something for a sex romp, but he supposes there's a lot he doesn't know about how they do magic. He shrugs, braces himself, and sticks the miniature spoon under his nostril.

After a fast, heavy sniff, he's not sure he's done anything at all until he pulls the spoon away and it's empty. Given how fast it worked for Eddie, he drops the spoon where it was and bolts for the kitchen. He manages to get two bottles of water and a bag of chips in hand before it strikes in the form of a hot flash down his spine and his cock filling out so fast he feels lightheaded.

Perfect.

Eddie's barely conscious in bed, but he's still holding his dick, loosely stroking it like that's all he has left. His breathing is fast and shallow, and he barely reacts when Buck jumps in bed, hard and throbbing. He drops the refreshments by Eddie's head and fumbles through the sheets simultaneously until his hand closes around the lube. "Alright, I've got you," Buck promises his supine, just-conscious form, and the second Buck gets his hands on him, Eddie's movements cease entirely. "Eddie?"

"Mmmm...hmmm..." he hums unconvincingly. Lucky for both of them, Buck feels like he might die himself if he doesn't get his cock in Eddie's ass right this very second. His temperature has skyrocketed, closer to Eddie's skin than a normal fever, and before the pollen can claim any more of his faculties, he's coating his dick and sliding back into Eddie's reddened hole.

What. The. Fuck.

It's like his groin has developed an entirely new erogenous zone, making him even more sensitive than before. He thought Eddie's ass felt amazing before, but he's pretty sure there's a chorus singing around them as Buck bottoms out and Eddie's eyes reopen. "Buck," he rasps in relief.

"I'm here, Eddie. Fuck." It's like his depleted energy reserves have been replenished in full; however many more rounds Eddie needs, Buck's got this. He'll fuck Eddie into the bed and let him ride his cock until he's too full to take another load. He'll finger Eddie until he's crying again, and then add another finger while swallowing down his load. There are so many plans filling his brain that suddenly, 24 hours doesn't seem very long at all.

This shit is awesome.

Even more awesome? He's fucking Eddie back to life. The more Buck grinds into him, the more noises Eddie makes, the more his color returns, the more he squirms underneath him. Buck tries not to let it go to his head, but come on. After all this is over, Buck's never going to let Eddie live this down.

Of course, that would require being able to talk about it, which is unlikely. Right.

As much as Eddie's looking better, now sighing out little ah, ahs with every thrust, this is probably as good a time as he'll have to recover. Without pausing his movements, Buck fumbles for one of the bottles of water and presses it to Eddie's chest. "Drink." he grunts, fighting the pull of the pollen to do nothing but fuck.

"How— how am I— shit, Buck— gonna do that when— you keep fucking me— so well?" Eddie stutters as the bottle crinkles in his hand.

Buck doesn't know. He hadn't exactly gotten that far before his brain told him to watch the spot between them where they connect. How does Eddie's ass keep looking better?

"I'm just...give me...fuck!" Buck pounds Eddie through his own orgasm, no longer concerned with holding back. There's plenty more where that came from. So much that he doesn't even soften before he's ready to continue. "Okay, now drink." Buck pants, forcing himself to hold still, grab his own bottle, and count to thirty.

They make good time, and both bottles are drained by the time Buck reaches twenty. "Good," he praises, and if it weren't for the extra sensitivity, he might have missed the way Eddie's hole flutters around him. "Think you can eat?"

Eddie grimaces. "You know how sometimes you can't tell if eating will make it better or worse?"

Buck bites his lip. Pulls out and shoves back in to quiet the lustful buzz. They've missed dinner, and it will be breakfast time in just a couple of hours. He doesn't remember Hen saying anything about nausea or eating under the influence, but then again, she didn't have time to tell him much at all. "Can you risk a few chips?" he asks. Anything is better than nothing, even when Eddie turns up his nose at the thought of getting crumbs in the bed.

Buck asks Eddie to do it for him. Eddie makes it through five chips before the compliance gets Buck so hot he can't not fuck Eddie about it.

Things get a lot better after that. Not just because it feels even more incredible to Buck, but because it seems like Eddie might be getting through the worst of it. He still begs Buck to keep fucking him, and Buck obliges easily, but after an hour straight of connection, his fever starts to wane and the nausea all but disappears. "Maybe you can pull out soon," Eddie says after one of his best orgasms yet, voice more even and normal than it's been since he was dosed.

But Buck doesn't. Not until the sun starts to rise and fatigue finally surpasses desire for the both of them. The next time Eddie comes, clutching the headboard for better riding leverage, he slumps forward, boneless. He blinks slowly, and his eyes only half reopen. "How are you?" Buck asks, running his hands up Eddie's back.

Eddie's response is a wordless grumble, and for the first time in a while, it doesn't make Buck immediately reharden. Maybe he took a small dose, or maybe the open air exposure has lessened the herba desiderii's potency, because they're nowhere near Chim's six-hour prediction. Whatever the reason, he's not about to question it when Eddie's already snoring and the quiet lull of the morning pulls him under, too.

***

Buck only wakes up because his phone is about to vibrate off the nightstand. He barely opens his eyes to check on Eddie, mercifully still unconscious beside him, before answering. "You know, I'm pretty sure I remember you adamantly telling Chim not to call you when you did this." he croaks.

"Because I took a respectable dose. Also, I didn't have a literal biohazard waiting outside my bedroom door." Hen pauses for a second, listening to the silence between them. "Eddie pass out?"

"Yeah, for a couple of hours now. Temp and pulse are starting to come down, but his breathing's a little heavy." He wonders if the pollen causes sex dreams. He wonders if Eddie's dreaming in porn. If his subconscious brings Buck along for the ride.

"Good, because I'm outside. I have something for you, and I need to clean up the spill."

Buck's stomach drops. What if he needs more to keep up with Eddie? "Do you have to?"

"Do I have to clean up a dangerous potion your man spilled in my best friend's house?" Hen deadpans.

Buck's face flushes hot. "He's not my man."

Hen scoffs. "Yeah, okay. Listen, I just need a few minutes, and I'll be out of your way. Besides, even if you have endless stamina, you're gonna want what Chim got you."

It takes Buck a second to really connect the dots for the first time, but when he does, a horrified laugh catches in his throat. "Please tell me Chim didn't buy us a sex toy.”

"Of course not." Hen insists. "He just picked it up. You owe him $50, by the way."

"Fifty?" Buck hisses, scarcely managing to keep quiet. "You couldn't have gone with one of the cheap ones?"

"Chim bought it, not me. I already know too much about your sex life, Buck. I don't need...images." She shivers against the receiver. "Seriously, though, I'm coming in. So either stay in the bedroom or be decent when I see you."

She hangs up without waiting for a response. Seconds later, Buck hears the front door opening. His long lost sweatpants are miraculously just by his feet; he takes it as a sign to throw them on and find his way to the living room.

"Stay back," Hen says as soon as he rounds the corner. He has to do a double take to process the bright yellow hazmat suit she's wearing as she sweeps the glittery particles into a small pile. Then, she uses Eddie's clothes to scoop up the bulk of it and throws the lot into a biohazard bag.

"I didn't think Bobby let us take our gear home." he teases.

"Oh, this is Karen's. She said 'good luck,' by the way," she says and nods to six-pack of vanilla protein shakes and a nondescript paper bag on the dining room table.

Buck inches into the room, hugging the wall the whole way. "So..." he starts, and Hen immediately fixes him with a Look.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing!" He exclaims much too quickly. "I was just wondering if, like..." He trails off, then rushes forward when she starts to pull out a bottle of bleach from her paramedic bag. "M-Maybe you could not clean everything up so well."

The Look never gets easier for Buck to bear. "What part of 'literal biohazard' did you not understand?"

"Come on, not if it's just a little. You can even put it a baggie or something." Buck tries to convey the urgency of it through his eyes, but when Hen doesn't relent, he confesses. "It helps me...keep up. You said he's got, like 15 more hours of this, right?"

Hen drops her plastic-covered head into her gloved hand. "You already took it."

"Yeah, and it worked great. 10/10 product, absolutely no complaints."

"Buck! That's not the point and you know it."

"The point," Buck emphasizes. "Is that Eddie needs help. You're the one who said it's fuck or die, right?"

Hen bites her lip. "At this point, it's probably more like...fuck or spend a few days in the hospital." she amends weakly. "It's still insurmountably stupid for both of you to be under the influence at once without a babysitter."

"So we'll be stupid! Nothing bad happened!" Buck explodes, hands extending at his sides. "It helped Eddie. I need him to be okay, Hen. I'm not— I can't—" he chokes on his words once, twice. A deep breath later: "Look, I'm sure whatever Chim got will help. But he wants me to." His throat works heavily, and he has to look away. "If this is all I get, I want to make it count."

Hen's quiet and unmoving for a long minute. The sigh she lets out after feels even longer. "'If this is all I get,' he says." she mutters under her breath before: "You can never, ever talk to me about your sex life again, alright? And you're going to be our guinea pig the next time Chim and I have to test something new."

She reaches into the front of her bag and pulls out a small vial.

Buck huffs in surprise. "Win-win. Deal."

Buck doesn't even try to look in the bag until Hen's in her car and out of the driveway and he's on his way to the bedroom with it, the shakes, a few water bottles, a large tin of salve, and half a dose of herba desiderii. When he does, he nearly runs into the door.

Chim got them three "gifts": more lube (thank god, they were starting to run low), a fleshlight, and a dildo.

After this is all over, he's sending Chim the largest edible arrangement he can find. Eugh. He should probably do the same for Hen and Maddie.

Pushing that line of thought out of the way, he turns the doorknob quietly, hoping Eddie's still asleep.

Actually, never mind. The way he's spread out in the center of their damp, stained sheets, two fingers disappeared under his balls while he bites his lip to hold back a moan, is the best present Buck's ever received. "Oh," is all he can think to say.

"Hen's gone?" he confirms, voice all deep and broken. Buck nods slowly. "Thank fucking god," he moans, and doesn't stop.

"She cleaned everything up and brought us some goodies," Buck says, trying not to be seduced so easily. It's hard when there's a naked man in front of him playing with his beautiful ass. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," he pants, pulling out his fingers and wiping them on the ruined sheets. "Think my fever's down a bit, and it doesn't hurt as much to not be physically attached to you."

"Well, that's something," Buck replies, trying to tamp down on the minor panic rising in his throat. It'll be over soon. Ish. Eddie won't be in pain, but Eddie won't need him like this. He gives Eddie a protein shake and a water bottle. "Get these down, and I'll fuck you. Or we can try out what's in here." He empties the bag of toys onto the bed, puts the water bottles within reach on the nightstand, and the salve and shakes on the floor.

"Christ," Eddie blinks at the dildo, then the fleshlight. His face pinches together. "You said Hen brought these?"

"Worse: Chimney."

"Shit, he's gonna be insufferable after all this." he laments.

Buck shrugs. "Then we'll just remind him it's his fault."

"Buck," Eddie's voice shifts suddenly as he lifts a tiny vial up between them — you know, with the hand he's not using to touch himself. "The fuck are you doing with this?"

Buck gives him a sheepish grin. So, maybe he hadn't actually told Eddie he'd taken the first dose. He thought it would have been giveaway enough when he suddenly became the Brad Torrence of orgasms, but on second thought, Eddie may have been too out of his mind to notice. "Taking care of you?" he tries.

Eddie's face softens, but his lips stay tight. "You think I wanted you taking this just to keep up with me?"

He shakes his head. "I knew you wouldn't. That's why I didn't tell you when I took some last night." Buck bites his lip. "You weren't doing well, Eds. I needed to make sure you were alright. And like...what if the toys aren't the same, you know? Maybe the magic wants it to be a person." He hopes the words sound less like bullshit when they reach Eddie's ears.

Eddie stares at the container warily for a long time, then very, very gently hands it back to Buck. "And how was it?" he asks when it's safely out of his hands.

"Honestly? It was kind of awesome." Buck admits with a little smile. "A little goes a long way, I guess." he teases.

"Fuck off and fuck me." Eddie slumps back onto the mattress and resumes his enthusiastic masturbation.

Eddie's learned quite a few things about himself and his best friend since getting dosed with magic sex pollen.

1. Buck's cock is fucking huge. He didn't get a chance to appreciate it at first, lusty out of his mind as he was. But now that he's calmed down a bit, he can't believe he's been taking all of that and begging for more.
2. Eddie has a thing for fucking huge cocks. Ever since Marisol, he's been...open to the idea of having a thing for penis, but he didn't think it would be like this. He didn't think he'd be gagging for it, literally, that it might be even better than pussy, in some ways.
3. Getting fucked is as awesome as fucking someone else. Especially when he has a prostate back there. Why wasn't every man having anal? Maybe they just need someone with as big a cock as Buck's to see the appeal.
4. Buck is a sex savant. No, really. It's like he's reading Eddie's mind with the amount of buttons he's pushing, but that can't be. Mostly because he didn't even know he had a lot of said buttons.
5. Eddie is never, ever, ever going to have an experience with someone else that will live up to this. Even when he was seriously scared he would die (and what a way to go — Eddie Diaz, dead by lack of dick), Buck was right there with him, bringing a comfort he couldn't have found from anyone else. He might as well give up now, because he can't see himself dating anyone that could live up to Buck. He wouldn't want anyone else all in like that, dosing themselves with sex pollen just to help him. Buck's the only one he wants doing that, because as much as he trusts Buck, Buck trusts him from real, lived proof.
6. Buck loves to talk about how nice Eddie's ass is.
7. Buck's ass might be even better.

Buck lives up to his word; he fucked Eddie once to take the edge off, then snatched the vial when he went to the bathroom and returned hard and desperate. Now that Eddie doesn't feel like he'll die if he's not being actively penetrated, he's insisted Buck has to experience it while he's dosed.

"I've been fucked before, Eddie," Buck repeats, but continues circling two lubed fingers around his rim.

Eddie glares at him, just like he has every time Buck's mentioned sex with other people. He knows he shouldn't, that Buck doesn't have to want to give him anything more than this day of sex, but he just can't help himself. He knows, now, how he feels. He's spent years not knowing and now he does and even though Buck's probably bisexual, given everything, it doesn't mean he's into Eddie.

Buck doesn't mean to keep setting Eddie off, but if he doesn't remember there are others, that he's had people before Eddie and he can after, the comedown will be so much worse. He's already playing with fire, stretching himself wide while Eddie watches, jerking himself in a matching tempo. He adds a third finger with a breathy exhale, and Eddie tackles him onto the mattress to take his fingers' place.

Wow, Buck's ass really is the perfect handful, Eddie thinks: perky and and round in a way that gets hidden in every pair of pants he owns. Where has he been hiding this? Maybe it looks proportional with his long, long legs?

Whatever. The important thing is, Eddie knows now. And he knows that his cock looks damn good sliding inside it, Buck's mile legs wrapped around his waist.

Buck gasps in a deep breath, clutching Eddie's biceps as the feeling overwhelms him. "Right?" Eddie smirks as Buck blinks up at him dazedly.

"Shut up." Buck flushes. "You haven't even been fucked sober yet."

"There's no way it's better than this." Because this is definitely the best being inside someone has ever felt. It was the same with the blowjob. It's like he has a new sense, developed exclusively for intimate pleasure. Part of the reason Eddie hasn't stopped touching himself is the pain that comes when he does. But the other part? It's just too good, and Buck seems to agree, eyes closed, mouth open wide as groan after groan spills out of him.

Eddie might be as addicted to topping Buck as he is taking him. Shit, shit, shit. His heart palpitates against his ribs, feeling too big for his chest. He presses down against Buck's so it doesn't pound out of his skin, and it puts their lips too close for Eddie to resist.

Buck thinks kissing Eddie gets better the more present he becomes, and that's not just the herba desiderii talking. Or the fantastic cock in his ass. He should have known Eddie would be the best he's had this way, too, all smooth hips and smooth lips as he holds Buck like a lover — fucks him like one, too. He keeps trying to comb back the sweaty hair in his face as he thrusts, but it keeps flopping back artfully, and Buck can't take it. He reaches up himself, pushes the hair out of his face, and holds it steady at the back of Eddie's head.

Eddie beams at him, breaking their kiss. "Thanks."

Buck scoffs. "No— ah— problem."

"None of this has ever been a problem for you, has it?" Eddie practically coos, soft and soothing as his hips speed up. "You're just good like that to me."

Buck shivers against him and a whine leaks out from the back of his throat. "Eddie."

"So good," Eddie pats his cheek and kisses it. "To just take care of me like that. Don't know how I would have made it without you." And then: "You're such a good friend, Buck. No one deserves you."

Buck freezes in his arms. "Yeah, I know," he says, strangely hollow. Laughs at his faux arrogance. Bursts into tears.

Eddie stills as wet, heavy sobs sizzle over his libido until it goes from a rolling boil to a soft simmer. "Hey, what?" He pulls Buck closer until their heartbeats echo into one anothers' sweaty skin.

"Nothing, it's nothing," Buck tries, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Okay, new rule: you're not allowed to lie to me while I'm actively fucking you."

Buck squirms at the reminder, and it makes them both gasp. "I'm sorry, Eddie. I don't...I don't even know how to say it."

But Eddie's brain is already turning, thinking back to what he did. "It's because I called you my friend, isn't it?" If the roles had been reversed, he probably would have crashed out, too, especially with the pollen tingling in his veins.

"I am your friend." Buck insists, says it like he has enough to wear grooves into the words. "I am your friend." Not reassurance, but a reminder.

"And that won't change no matter what, okay?" His hand finds the groove he's worn into Buck's shoulder, his collarbone molded flawlessly to Eddie's touch. "Even if you want to be a little more than that."

And Buck feels his heart rip, ragged and lopsided. If Eddie weren't on top of him, in him (how are they still attached right now?), he'd be dressed and halfway out of the room by now. "Don't give me your pity. Once this is over, I'll be out of your hair, and I can deal with this stupid, impossible crush alone."

"Who said you were alone?"

Buck's world crashes into stillness, begins and ends and reignites right here in a king size bed that isn't theirs. "What...why wouldn't I be?"

Eddie's large, warm hand is so, so gentle when it cradles Buck's cheek. He barely uses any pressure to tilt Buck's gaze, and Buck goes along so, so easily. "I don't think it's stupid or impossible for you to get what you want. Not when I...I feel the same." Eddie lets himself tear up to relieve the aching pressure in his throat. "You are my best friend, Buck. I just didn't realize I would want more than that until I had no choice but to face it."

It feels like all of the air leaks out of the room. "You...what? When?"

Eddie blushes so fast. If this leads where Buck thinks (hopes, god does he hope), he promises himself to make it happen every day, to keep Eddie pink and happy and pleased for the rest of his life. "When Marisol moved in. Or, tried to move in." Eddie bows his head and sucks his teeth before driving his cock forward a few times, soothing the burning itch that starts every time he stills. When they finish panting in each other's mouths, satiated for the moment, "Every time she tried to put up a picture or fit something in a cupboard, she couldn't. Your stuff was already there." Like he can't help himself, he tilts into Buck's chest, places a kiss on his clavicle. "She got through maybe three boxes before she asked me if you would be over often enough to need all your stuff here. When I said yes...she may have suggested that I've already been in a relationship for years. That you can belong to someone without the sex and romance."

There's another few thrusts that keep Buck from breaking apart entirely as the words empty his brain of everything but Eddierelationshipsexromance. And then he pauses over Buck's prostate and just keeps going. "After she talked me down from the ensuing panic attack, I knew she was right. But I wasn't ready to confront it yet. These past few weeks..." he swallows, fixes his eyes on the pillow under Buck's head. "I've been trying to deal with it. Telling myself you don't feel the same every day, that losing you entirely because of my own feelings would hurt worse than keeping them quiet. But now," his eyes drift back to Buck's, and he tenses to hold back the moves his body begs him to make. "Is it too crazy for me to ask you to move in officially while I'm fucking you? Should I just stick to the love confession for now?"

"Holy fucking shit," Buck says, and his untouched cock spurts the smallest dribble of pearly white between them. Instantly, Eddie's hand is on him, easing Buck through it as he fucks him through the aftershocks.

"I'll take that as a no," Eddie grins, no different than he has any other time. It still looks lighter, freer to Buck than anything he's seen in months. And when Eddie lifts his hand to his mouth to clean it, tongue dragging languorously over the webbing of his thumb and pointer finger, the sex pollen in Buck's veins makes his cock kick back to hardness so fast that he's dizzy with it.

"Eddie, o'course I will. Practically already live there," he slurs out. "But only if you're sure. Don't wanna give you another panic attack."

Eddie frowns. "You won't." he says sternly. "Look, this is all new to me, and I'm probably going to need a minute to figure myself out, but I don't— I don't regret it's you, or a man, or whatever anymore. What does piss me off, though," Eddie's thighs tense between Buck's, and it's all the warning he gives before thrusting forward hard. "Is that you went into this thinking you were setting yourself up for heartbreak, and did it anyways."

Buck whines as Eddie grinds into his prostate. "Is' for you, Eddie, 'course I did."

"Something that's 'for me' cannot possibly be at your own expense. Not anymore. Understand?" he growls in Buck's ear, and yeah, this is more what Buck expected when he thought about Eddie in bed. The pliant, pleading Eddie unfolded beautifully in Buck's hands, but this Eddie? He's a little mean and a little cocky, and Buck would think it was cute if it wasn't scorchingly sexy.

"And what are you going to do— if I don't?" Buck goads.

His answer is an oval of sharp points piercing the side of his shoulder as Eddie bites him, then soothes over the indents with his tongue. "Then I'll have to keep explaining it until it sinks in." He braces himself with a hand on Buck's other shoulder. "Hold up your legs, baby."

Thank you, arm day, Buck thinks as he forces his body to cooperate, muscles aching with every stretch. It's so, so worth it when Eddie pounds his prostate dead-on. "That's it, let it out," Eddie praises the moans Buck didn't realize he was making. "Love it when you say my name like that."

"Like. What," Buck pants.

Eddie pauses and fixes those big, brown eyes straight on him with a soft smile. "Like you love me."

Buck stares him down right back. "I do love you," he murmurs, and it feels like every weight on his shoulders, save Eddie's hold, melts off into the bed.

"Good," Eddie fucks him a few times more, lets his face drift closer to Buck's. "I might've had to move back to Texas if you didn't."

"Don't even joke about that," Buck...doesn't pout. A few months ago, it had seemed like a real possibility. Chris didn't take the breakup well (now that he's a teenager, he rarely takes anything his father does well), and a day later, Eddie's parents had been at his door, insisting Chris wanted to "come home."

And well. Screw that. Eddie'd gotten into a screaming match with his parents while Buck took Chris out for ice cream. By the time they returned, Chris was willing to stay and work on things and his parents were ready to get the hell away from Eddie. "You would've moved with me if I'd asked," Eddie half-teases.

Buck knows him too well for that. "Yeah, I would've. I'd probably follow you off a bridge if you asked me to." he says honestly, and two seconds later, his face goes red. "That sounds insane."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees, then kisses Buck as he starts moving again. "Good thing I kind of like you that way."

Buck keens into his mouth. Everything out of Eddie's mouth feels like a gut punch right now. "I don't think I have it in me to hold back anymore," he says as yet another climax invades his senses. He can feel that this one's going to hurt as much as it helps.

Eddie pulls back only enough to look him in the eyes. "You don't ever have to hold back for me again, Evan. I want all of you."

Eddie shushes him and holds him close as his body convulses, relief and overstimulation battling for dominance. As the wave passes, the relief grows into satisfaction, which seeps into his bones, chasing away any pain. "Wan' all of you, too," Buck confirms as his eyelids grow heavy, and about ten thrusts later, Eddie's weight collapses into his own as he shivers and stills.

The room stiffens in anticipation, but the next round never comes. Exhaustion overwhelms the dying ember of lust, and Buck knows when it's extinguished, it's all over for him.

"Think it's...think it's over," Eddie slurs against Buck's chest, drooling slightly over his pec.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"We should drink water," Buck suggests, knowing their half-finished bottles are just feet away.

"Yeah. M'thirsty," Eddie agrees, but neither of them move. Ten seconds later, they're asleep for good.

***

"Oh my god," a loud groan is what snaps Buck back into wakefulness, cock twitching like he's already been Pavlov'd by the sound of Eddie's voice. That's going to be fun to deal with at work.

Buck rolls over quickly, blinking sleep out of his vision as he gropes for Eddie. "'Sup, you need another round?" he asks just before his hand grazes over Eddie's soft dick.

Eddie slaps his hand away, hard. "You keep that thing away from me. Think you rubbed it raw."

"You asked for it raw, as I remember," Buck snarks, vision finally coming into focus. Eddie is sprawled out beside him, loose and relaxed and encroaching on Buck's side of the bed. His skin isn't the burning heat it was, and his eyes have lost that feverish glow. "Is it over, then? For good?"

Eddie nods, winces, returns to practiced stillness. "Think so. Either way, I'm not moving for a month. I didn't think it was possible to strain every muscle at once."

"Yeah," Buck agrees. It does rather feel like his body has been turned inside out and stuffed back together a little wrong. "Hen gave us some salve for that. Think it's on the floor."

Eddie breaks his no moving rule to roll onto Buck and reach over the edge of the mattress. He recognizes the metal tin instantly — it's from the locked cabinet of the ambulance that Hen never lets him touch.

His eyes widen as it finally dawns on him. He grabs the salve and rolls back over just so he can sit up and glare at Buck head-on.

"Wait. Hen and Chim. They're fucking magic? And you didn't tell me?!"