Work Text:
For the first time in what feels like months but was really weeks, Buck can say things were actually looking up.
He was near no natural disasters, there were no ongoing lawsuits happening, he could wave at someone in the firehouse and get a response and not just a half-hearted grunt. He finally did it. He not only successfully got his job back (with the promise to actually be able to join on calls again) but he also smoothed things over with Bobby. His chest felt lighter now that they were good again. Bobby is far too important a figure in his life to lose and he’s glad he hadn’t.
He also, surprisingly, had managed to solve things with Eddie. Kind of. Eddie forgave him at the station, almost too easily but he wasn’t going to question it. They didn’t talk much after that, however, mid-bite into his breakfast with Bobby, his phone lit up with a text he had been missing like a limb. Eddie invited him over.
After the breakfast, he raced over enthusiastically so he was already parked in his driveway by the time Eddie made it home. He gets out of his car, trailing behind a low-energy Eddie, bags under his eyes and a bag slung over his shoulder.
“Hey,” Buck greets, a little awkwardly, like he forgot how to have normal human interaction over the span of their distance. He may just need to flex that muscle again, it’s a little stiff.
Eddie huffs, a small sound of amusement. “Hey.”
“Thanks for inviting me over,” he adds shyly. He’s standing beside Eddie's body at the doorway and it feels like old times but he can’t help but rock on his feet a little for comfort.
Eddie pauses briefly, key still in the door as he turns to him. He holds eye contact, gentle eyes but unwavering as he says–
“You’re always welcome here, Buck.”
He decidedly chooses to not mention the time he wasn’t welcome, mostly due to his own doing. He just nods solemnly. Eddie turns his key, pushing the door open for the both of them as they trail inside. Buck faintly hears it close behind him as he toes off his shoes, taking in the area once again.
Buck takes a beat, looking deeper just to see if anything had changed. There’s a small one, the most significant one, he thinks. The photobooth photos that he and Chris took on the pier, it was there leaning against one of the photoframes now. Other than that, it is all the same. He lifts one of the photos, one of all three of them last year, his thumb brushing reminiscently against the wooden frame. “Man, I almost don’t even recognize you with long hair.”
He catches the tail-end of Eddie’s eyeroll, no doubt a fond one with the smile pulling at his lips. “It hasn’t been that long.”
It hasn’t but time works so differently when he thinks of him and Eddie. Despite only knowing each other for a year, it feels like it has been for their whole life. Like he knew Eddie before and he was just always meant to be in his life, to be his best friend. Their lives just fit.
“What brought on the change anyway?” Buck deflects, setting the photo back in its rightful place.
Eddie’s smile falls a little but doesn’t disappear from his face. “My abuela, actually,” he says quietly, chewing at his bottom lip nervously. Buck wasn’t sure what was making him nervous but he offers an encouraging nod. “She always cut her hair when someone passed. Says your hair knows too much and carries it all: grief, sadness, memories. There will never be a way to move forward if you’re always looking back. I guess I just thought..”
The sentence dies out but Buck thinks he understands. This was one of Eddie’s ways of processing and moving forward, trying to, anyway. He can’t really say he knows what it feels like, losing someone so close to you, but he wants to be there all the same. A silence falls between them now, not as heavy as the one from the station which he is grateful for so he sits in it. He takes it and allows himself to look, really look.
The shorter hair really emphasizes Eddie’s countenance in a way he appreciates; it guides his eyes to the imperceptible features or expressions, ones he always knew were there but never got to properly enjoy but now, he relishes in it.
His eyes being one of those features, the strongest one in fact. There’s never been a shortage of eye contact between them so he knows these eyes like no other but there's something about them when there’s nothing obstructing the view, it really brings out the beauty of them. He can see the green hues in them more clearly. It’s not enough to overtake the brown where light isn’t present but they feel almost strategically placed, just little sparkles that dance in his eye.
Buck could really go on and on: his nose, his ears, his lips.
Huh. His lips. A kind shade of pink. They look soft to the touch, even softer when Eddie's tongue rolls over to wet them. There’s also a small scar, he can’t help but want to know the story but also how it would feel under his tongue.
“Why, you don’t like it?” Eddie eventually asks, making his eyes snap back up and breaking him from his trance.
“No, I think it looks great, man!” Buck rushes to say.
“Relax, I’m just fucking with you,” Eddie jokes, walking them into the kitchen.
He lets out a breath as they cross the threshold. The kitchen looks the same, nothing changing besides the month on the calendar and fresher fruits in the bowl on the island. It hasn't been long enough that he should be missing it like this but there’s always been a sense of belonging when he entered the Diaz household. The closest place he’s known to a home.
Buck runs his hand along the countertop, granite cool underneath his palm as he sighs, something reminiscent. “Wow. Feels like I haven't seen this kitchen in years." Eddie turns, eyes shooting daggers in his direction as he pulls open the fridge. His focus falls forward, reaching and slotting two beers between his fingers before closing the door. “Too soon?”
Eddie’s eyes flicker back up, orbs dancing under the warm light of the kitchen, glinting with amusement. “Maybe a little.”
Buck chuckles under his breath, shyly ducking his head. Eddie slides a beer over to him and he grabs it, keeping a hand on the top, the other wrapping around the neck of the bottle. He taps the lid a few times, thinking over his next words carefully. “If it’s any consolation, I really am sorry.”
Eddie's eyes soften at the admission, the kind smile that he hardly feels deserving of tugging at his lips. “I know you are.” He lifts his bottle, offering up the neck. “We’re good, okay?”
Buck is sure he looks like a kid on Christmas day with how big his smile is; he can feel it take up residence on most of his face. “Yeah, okay,” he agrees, tapping his against Eddie's before finally cracking it open.
Eddie raises the bottle to his mouth, taking a long drag of his beer. He wipes the condensation off his lip, the ones now glistening– he wasn’t staring, that would be rude– with the back of his hand before holding said hand out. “You know what. To prove it, I'll even make us dinner.”
He starts moving around his kitchen, first opening his cupboard to see what's in there before seemingly landing on something good enough. “I feel like I should be making you something,” Buck jokes, leaning on the counter. “Like an apology dinner or something.”
“Apology for what? I said we’re good.” Eddie reaches for a kitchen utensil, crying out in pain as he lowers his arm back by his side.
Naturally, Buck migrates closer to him, hand held out but not touching. Like Eddie was an endangered animal that he wasn’t sure was going to bite or not. “What is up with you, man?”
“Nothing,” Eddie snaps, answering quicker than necessary. He sighs, holding onto his side as he tries again. “Got hurt on a call earlier. It was nothing.”
“It doesn't look like nothing,” Buck argues.
A frown etches itself between Eddie’s brows. “Buck.”
“I know I haven't been there but I'm here now. Let me be. Please.” He shifts awkwardly on his feet awaiting Eddie’s next move, eyes not daring to look away from him.
Eddie’s face pulls into something unreadable before he sets the utensil down, eyes fallen as he lifts the hem of his shirt. The reveal makes Buck reel back slightly. He’s not sure what he expected, maybe just a small cut or a pulled muscle that he could help iron out. Instead, he's met with bright red marks splayed across his ribs. It also wasn’t lost on him that as big as Eddie was on eye contact, he was actively avoiding Buck’s.
“This happened on a call and Bobby didn’t send you home?”
Eddie shrugs it off. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
“And the Chris excuse?"
“Wasn’t an excuse,” he says defiantly. “We were roughhousing before my shift.”
“Did Chris have a brick?”
It works to draw a small laugh from Eddie, or at least an attempt at one that is immediately met with regret as his hands shoot to his sides. He doesn’t even realize when he gets closer until the tips of his fingers are hovering over the angry skin. “Can I?” Eddie still doesn’t meet his eye but he nods, lifting the shirt just a fraction more to give him room.
Eddie's gaze is distant, somehow making them feel further away than they already were. He looks back at his torso, testing the touch and allowing his fingers to graze lightly over the skin. It’s warm to the touch and when he presses into it lightly, Eddie's abdomen clenches, a hiss flying out of him that makes Buck pull away like he’s been burned. His finger leaves a pale mark before it reddens again, deeper this time.
“Eddie, what happened?”
He sighs, knowing there's no escaping the conversation and pulling his shirt down. He braces his hands on the edge of the counter behind him. “I just needed to blow off some steam. You know, after Shannon and with the whole..” he waves his hands around like it speaks for itself, unfortunately it does. “I started by going and watching sometimes but then I tried my hand at it and it became less of watching.” Buck doesn’t say anything, can’t. He just stares at the shirt like the bruises are burning a hole through it. How can he wear it knowing what’s underneath? “It’s no big deal, really. I’m usually fine,” he adds, like he’s trying to comfort him out of all things.
It just catches him off guard. Everything, all of it. The gentlest man he knows is spending his nights fighting.
“Can you say something?” Eddie says, wringing his hands restlessly in front of him, making him realize he actually hadn’t spoken.
“You fight?” is what he offers ineloquently when he finally finds his words.
Eddie gives a dry laugh at that, still wringing those hands. That makes him notice the bruising on his knuckles. He had missed it all. “Sometimes,” he repeats, like this is all no big deal. Like this is the normal way to blow off steam.
“Yeah, I caught that,” he says, devoid of the humor Eddie has around it. “But why?”
“Lena thought I could use a healthy outlet.”
“This was Bosko’s idea?” Buck doesn’t mean for it to come out with so much venom or in such an accusatory way, it just– spills out before he really has a chance to clean it up. This isn’t about him and he refuses to turn it into that but his mind can’t help but supply an unhelpful truth; if he was there instead, this wouldn't be happening.
“No, it wasn’t her idea, it was mine.” Eddie sighs, knuckle digging into the crease of his eye. “It was just meant to be temporary; a fight or two after the fight I got into.”
“You got into a fight? Like outside of the whole..?” Buck gestures, hoping it's obvious.
“Landed in jail.”
“You got arrested?” Buck asks incredulously.
Another thing Eddie shrugs off. “The guy deserved it. And the charges got dropped.”
Who was Buck even talking to right now? “So that wasn’t a slip-up at the grocery store. You just didn’t tell me?”
“You don’t think I wanted to, Buck? The decision wasn’t up to me.”
He walked right into that. He shrunk in on himself slightly. “Does it help?”
Eddie lets out a breath when he realizes he wasn’t going to fight. “It helps everything quiet for a while.”
Buck sighs, swiping down the bridge of his nose before pointing towards him. “Can I at least help clean them up?”
Eddie’s lips twist at the corners as he contemplates. “Sure.”
He tips his head, signaling for Eddie to lead the way and he does. The walk to the bathroom is quiet and when they reach it, Eddie sits on the toilet lid like he was already expecting the instruction. Good.
“Up,” Buck says carefully, waiting patiently as Eddie slowly raises his arms over his head, face pulling up in pain with it. He gently pulls it over his head, setting it over the arm of the tub before refocusing. It looks a lot worse uncovered fully, an alarming amount of red covering his ribcage.
“It's usually not this bad,” Eddie says, reading his thoughts. That does absolutely nothing to settle Buck in the slightest. Confirmation that there had been more nights, ones where he wasn’t there to help or care for Eddie. A grieving Eddie, who felt his only way was fighting and who hid all of the hurt to take care of his grieving son. He tries for a smile but is sure he doesn’t quite hit the mark when the light dwindles in Eddie's eyes.
Buck turns before he does something stupid like start crying in front of Eddie like he is the one hurt and reaches to open his mirror, grabbing the first thing he sees and setting it down. He wipes the bruises with the solution, apologizing for every wince he’s met with.
It's not often Eddie lets the control slip but he is, letting Buck take care of him. He can’t help but left the guilt eat away at him but it settles a part of him being the one here. Taking care of him. Nursing him back to.. more normal. His eyes wander, curious if any other evidence exists. What else is he missing?
The answer comes when he notices the slightest knick at the arch of Eddie's eyebrow, hardly noticeable but undeniably present and his finger lifts and runs over it carefully. Eddie’s eyes close with the contact, whimpering quietly.
He places his lips to the skin and Eddie's hand flies to his waist, squeezing in encouragement as he lets out a breathy sigh. He finds another small cut that’s on his cheek, kissing that as well. He crowds him in, nipping at his jawline before kissing his adam's apple, feeling it move under the pressure. “Buck,” and that in itself feels like an answer but he needs to know.
“Eddie, are you sure?”
“Yeah, I just—“ Eddie’s eyes dart wildly across his face, worry swimming in them like he’s trying to find the words before they just fall to his lips. “Please.”
Buck allows himself to fully succumb to Eddie, pressing their lips together and melting into him. Eddie’s hand squeezes his waist, drawing him in closer. He kisses his way down his body, lips pressing softly over each inch of skin that bloomed on his skin. “I'm sorry,” he whispers quietly, punctuating it with another kiss.
Eddie whimpers, hand tightening around the back of his neck as Buck hovers over him like a security blanket. He pulls Buck back up into his space, kissing him harshly before resting their foreheads together. “Bedroom,” Eddie whispers against his lips and Buck nods.
Carefully, he guides them through the hallway, pushing the door open behind Eddie. They walk back until Eddie's knees hit the bed and he drops down. They don’t say much, just moving as one unit as if they were on the job. They have always been seamless as partners and it’s glad to see that carryover. Buck takes a step back from the bed, pulling his own shirt over his head. Eddie unfastens his jeans, pulling his underwear and jeans off in one go.
Buck’s breath catches. “Eddie..”
“Lube is in the drawer,” Eddie adds. Okay, yup. They were doing this.
Buck nods briefly before shimming out of his jeans and underwear, grabbing the lube before joining Eddie on the bed. He kisses him again, slowly and syrupy. He pulls away, kissing a path from his neck down his chest, down to the red splayed along his abdomen.
“Turn.” Eddie turns over, settling on his knees and allowing his back to arch. “It’ll be easier like this.”
Eddie nods, hips rising up and his face resting along his pillow. He finds himself surprised at how much and how easily Eddie still trusts him. He pops open the lube, placing some on his fingers and warming it between them. “It’s gonna be cold,” Buck warns quietly.
His hand nestles in the space between Eddie’s shoulder blades, fingers drumming carefully along his skin as his other hand trails lower, lower until his forefinger grazes his opening. The response is immediate, his hole fluttering at the light touch. Buck tries then, pushing just the tip of his finger inside and feels the resistance.
Eddie tenses, unconscious to it. “Sorry.”
“It’s alright,” Buck says, hand running up and down the expanse of skin to soothe him. “Just try to relax for me. You’re doing good.” He trails up his spine, landing kisses until he feels the tension seep beneath his lips and his finger is finally able to breach. When it does, Eddie's shoulders sag as he lets out a groan, face smushing against the pillow.
“You doing okay?” Eddie nods quickly, moaning softly. “You feel amazing,” Buck adds, whispering in awe, pressing his lips right to the base of Eddie's spine and placing a kiss right at the middle.
He pushes his finger in, testing and crooking, carefully avoiding his prostate to get Eddie comfortable with it. After the second finger, Eddie gets impatient. “Buck, I'm ready. Just–”
“Eddie, I say this in the least egotistical way possible, two fingers isn't gonna be enough." He wasn’t one to brag about his size (anymore) but he didn’t shy away from it either. He isn’t small by any means and he wasn’t gonna negotiate how many fingers he was using. “Especially not for your first time.”
“Then can we at least get there faster?”
“I don’t wanna hurt you, Eddie,” Buck says softly.
“I can take it.”
Buck can’t help the frown that forms on his face. He wishes Eddie was kinder to himself more: he deserves the delicacy and kindness and grace and everything. Just more. Buck decides to ignore him, patting around the space until he finds the bottle of lube, squeezing a dollop onto his ring finger and coating more into his others, warming it between his digits.
“More lube?” Eddie tries, his joke disintegrating into strained speech.
Buck runs a finger down his crack, teasing. His freehand grabs Eddie's cheek, spreading him open again and Eddie gasps, hole clenching around nothing. “I like it wet.” He teases, fingers running down his crack, fingers entering his hole slowly before he starts steadily fucking them in.
Eddie nods into the pillow. “Yeah, wet is good.”
Buck’s lips graze the top of his back, stopping over a beauty mark and placing a delicate kiss as he thrusts his fingers in a steady rhythm. He's going to commit each sound to memory and make a melody to keep forever.
After four fingers, he slides them out of Eddie. He presses a kiss at the top notch of his spine, feeling tension seep under his lips. “Do you want it like this?” He asks, peppering kisses across the top of his back.
“No,” Eddie moves his face away from the pillow, making sure his voice is louder. “Wanna see you. Please.”
Buck nods before remembering Eddie can’t see him and remembering his words. “Okay, okay.” He helps him turn, laying him on his back and his eyes drop down to the bruises, tracing along his rose-splotched ribs. “Let me do the work, okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m not gonna break." Eddie was stubborn, annoyingly so sometimes but he was going to pay it no mind..
He rolls his eyes fondly, “Just… consider it my apology. I wanna take care of you.” Realization hits him, a touch too late as he looks around on the bed. “Shit. Do you have any condoms?”
“No. No condoms.”
He silently curses himself, keeping a hand on Eddie's thigh, a soothing point of contact to not disrupt as he looks around for his jeans. “I think I may have one in my wallet, let me just—“
“Buck,” Eddie admonishes, catching him by the wrist. He waits for their eyes to meet, shaking his head. “It’s okay.”
“It’s..?”
He ducks his head, catching Buck's eye. “I need to feel you.”
“Yeah.” Buck understands the sentiment tenfold. They have already had such a barrier between them with Buck’s slight self isolating when he was hurt and the lawsuit, they need to end the distance. “Yeah, okay,” Buck mutters quietly to himself like he needs the hype. Fingers wrap around Eddie’s wrist, directly against his hammering pulse and guide his arm to his shoulder. Buck’s lips find the length of it, smacking kisses down, down, and across the bruises formed, before guiding the other one. Eddie hooks both arms around his neck, one hand gripping his nape and the other at the base of his hairline as Buck looks up at him. “Ready?”
Eddie nods meekly, eyes already glassy. Buck keeps one hand settled over his hip, the other gripping himself at the base of his cock to guide himself forward. His eyes wander, following every reaction from beneath him, searching for any signs of discomfort as the tip of his dick kisses the tight ring of muscle, making itself known but not quite pushing in yet, making Eddie cry out as his chest rises and his grip on Buck tightens. “Okay?”
Eddie nods again, quicker this time, his throat clicking on an audible swallow. “It’s good. Keep going, keep going,” Eddie chants, hooking his legs around his waist and drawing him in further.
His thumb digs into Buck's birthmark as he pushes forth, cock throbbing. Buck buries himself to the hilt, pausing to catch a few needed breaths and adjust to the tight heat engulfing him. The small gusts of air blowing around his gut turn into a full-blown whirlwind; blustering wildly as the strings pull tighter and tighter, forcing him to teeter at the edge.
Eddie, just as breathless, releases a shuddering little sound before he clenches like a vice, controlling his strings like the puppet master and nearly snapping them. Buck hisses, trying to sustain even a sliver of dignity. “Eddie, just— gimme a second.”
“I have given you a second.”
“A minute then,” Buck amends, voice tight as he speaks through his teeth, attempting to starve off his impending orgasm.
“Buck,” Eddie calls for his attention, trying to duck his head to catch his eye. “Look at me.”
“Mm-mm,” Buck responds, snapping his eyes shut.
“Buck.”
“Can’t,” Buck squeaks out. “If I look at you, this will be over embarrassingly quick.”
Eddie laughs lightly, arms running along the planes of his back. “It’s okay.”
“It’s really not,” he sighs, burying his face into Eddie's neck. Drowning in his musk and sweat is absolutely doing him no favors but it’s more embarrassing not being able to look him in the eye. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Eddie.”
Eddie is quiet for a moment, his calloused thumb sweeping across the top of Buck's back. “Can you go again?”
“Can I go again?”
“If you come right now,” Eddie starts, placing a kiss on his temple then his ear before whispering into it. “Can you come again for me?”
For him and the kiss on his ear makes him shiver, his head bobbing quickly. “Yes.”
“Then look at me.” Buck listens, of course he does. He would follow Eddie to the ends of the earth if he asked. “Good. Now don’t hold back.”
Buck follows direction, thrusting inside of Eddie in short jerks. “Eddie,” he moans, not trusting any other words.
“Yeah. It's okay," Eddie says gently, moaning quietly as he strokes his hair. The act is so tender and Buck is overcome with a lot– love, fondness, arousal– and he doesn’t hold back as he comes inside of him.
Eddie is so gentle with him through it, brushing through his hair and nails trailing down his back. Soft sighs leave his mouth with each stripe hitting his walls but he seems to be more focused on guiding him through it. Which– he will not cry during sex and ruin the mood right now but fuck.
He allows himself a moment to breathe before pushing back in, shaking somewhat terribly with effort. The glide, albeit already easy enough with all the lube, has been made substantially better with the mess of his cum. The squelch is absolutely filthy, so much so it makes his toes curl upon hitting his eardrum getting gradually louder by the thrust and it sets his body alight.
He knows the moment he knocks his prostate, Eddie arching into him and moaning loudly into his ear as both his hands drop to his back to pull him closer. He keeps a hand at the top of Eddie's head to avoid his head hitting the headboard, the other at his waist. He kisses along Eddie's shoulder, pounding into him carefully as the bed rocks beneath them. Eddie turns into him, nosing at the shell of his ear before kissing it.
Buck’s hips stutter and he pulls back a fraction, eyes roaming Eddie’s face. Eddie’s gaze is locked on him already, watching through heavy lids and glassy eyes. “God, you’re so beautiful.”
Eddie whimpers, so beautifully it would make him weak to his knees if he were standing. His movements get sloppy, all rhythm long forgotten while he’s lost in the pleasure and noises and he pulls too far away and accidentally slips out, catching on Eddie's rim. Eddie whines at the loss, pushing his hips in a silent request and Buck leans forward, pressing light kisses to his shoulder; once, twice in apology. “I'm sorry, baby. Hold on.”
Buck reaches a shaky hand between them, grabbing himself at the base. He strokes over his cock, collecting the wetness and spreading and Eddie makes a displeased sound, shifting his hips again. He doesn’t keep him waiting, moving forward and sliding home. A groan falls past his lips when warmth engulfs him, his hole welcoming him like a tight hug, like Eddie's body had already carved out a part just for him. Eddie clenches like a vice around him, ensuring no mishaps happen again.
“Buck,” Eddie moans breathily before his mouth drops further on a silent sound. He slumps back into the pillow, lashes fluttering. “Close,” he squeaks out, his cock weeping between them, trapped between both of their bodies.
“Do you want me to touch you?” Eddie whimpers in lieu of an answer, turning his face into the pillow. “Eddie, just ask. It’s yours,” he promises.
“Please.”
He reaches between them and takes a hold of Eddie’s cock, feeling how it throbs under his attention. Eddie is searing hot to the touch as he strokes him in time with his thrusts. The weight is so heavy in his palm, all his mind can supply him with is one thought– “I can’t wait to get my mouth on you” – which he must say out loud because a needy moan sounds in response, followed by a litany of agreements from under him.
Buck slows his hips and pulls his hand away, dropping it just under his chin and collecting all the saliva in his mouth, spitting a glob onto his palm before wrapping back around his length. Eddie chokes on his next noise, head falling back against the pillow as his jaw falls slack. Buck can’t help but follow, leaning forward and nosing along his cheek and Eddie isn’t far behind, gravity making his head instinctively move towards Buck and who was he to deny him. Buck surges forward, licking into the warm cavern of his mouth.
It starts as a kiss and stays that way for a good minute before he twists his wrists and all finesse is lost. Eddie’s breathing turns erratic, harsh puffs against his lips before his grip tightens, almost painfully. Buck hopes his fingers indent him; leave some type of permanence, something that he can always look back on that says Property of Eddie, no matter the circumstance. The thought alone spurs him on, his hips pushing in quicker and his hand working in tandem.
“Oh fuck,” Eddie whines, his nails digging crescents into the meat of his shoulders and legs securely housing him in by the waist.
“Yeah?” Buck goads lightly, lips clumsily landing at the corner of Eddie’s mouth before he pulls back to watch. “You close? You’re gonna come for me?”
Eddie bobs his head, eyebrows knitting together.
“Yeah, baby. Let me see it. Come for me,” he begs and twists his wrist near the head. Eddie moans as he crests, completely coming undone in his hand. Buck strokes him through it, come covering his knuckles and fingers as he slows his thrust and easing the attack on his prostate to suck at his collarbone. Eddie whines when it gets to be too much and he moves his hand, not even thinking before lifting it to his mouth and cleaning it off.
At the end of it, they are just one large heap of breaths. Eddie’s chest rises and falls beneath him, he also is catching his breath because that was one of the most glorious moments of his life. His now clean, although thoroughly wet hand along Eddie’s hip, thumb brushing over his hip bone. “Eddie.”
“Keep using me,” Eddie says all in one breath.
His eyes lift, searching and waiting for the punchline, something. Nothing comes and as tempting as the offer was, he still frowns. “Eddie—“
Eddie glides his hands along his jaw before coming to a stop, caressing him so carefully as their eyes meet. “You took care of me. Let me take care of you.” Buck can only whimper in response, nodding his head before moving his hips again; fucking in sharp, staccato movements until he finds that sweet rhythm again. Eddie drags him closer, his hand snaking around to his nape as he settles, nuzzling into the curve of his ear. “Yeah, just like that. Oh baby,” Eddie moans, something exclusively out of his wettest dreams, voice carrying hot and heavy into his eardrum before his tongue flattens over the area.
“Jesus,” Buck shivers, a full-body one that he can feel all the way to his toes. Goosebumps rise on his skin as he picks up his pace, groaning softly when teeth pull at his earlobe. “I'm not gonna last. Eddie, I have to—“
“Come inside me,” Eddie says easily, pulling a pitiful whine from him. Buck’s convinced; Eddie is trying to kill him. This is hardly even an attempt anymore, it feels like a promise. He survived a fire truck bombing and a tsunami, just to die by a few words. It’s like he has a knife, one dug in his side, twisting deeper and deeper. “Make sure there’s never any distance between us again, huh? Make me yours.”
The knife drives in and the words land like a command and all at once, his hips immediately pressing in as he spills inside of Eddie. He watches with rapt wonder as weak spurts dribble from Eddie’s cock. He’s so beautiful in every way possible. When they both ride through their orgasm, he slows to a stop, eyes glassy as he pulls out. His dick is a mess of the mixture of come and lube, and Eddie doesn't fare much better, his hole gaping and leaking with them.
“This feels weird,” Eddie’s voice is so soft as he looks down at his body.
Buck laughs softly, eyes following to watch his release. It’s leaking out of him and he brings his forefinger and middle finger to swipe through the mess, plunging it back inside. He feels dizzy seeing the sight. Eddie sighs, back raising off from the bed. “Bad, weird?”
Eddie’s face twists into something of pleasure, a moan slipping past his lips. “Just weird,” Eddie concedes, barely audible. Buck pushes his finger in again and Eddie grabs at his wrist. “Buck.”
“Sorry,” Buck says through a smile. He presses a kiss to his lips as he pulls his fingers out, pulling away to see the mess for himself. Carefully, he moves off of Eddie. “I’ll be right back.”
Buck grabs a towel, placing it under warm water before returning to the bedroom. He sits beside Eddie’s body, noticing he has moved away from a particularly wet spot on the sheets. “We’ll change these,” he assures, running the damp towel over Eddie’s sensitive hole. He whispers apologies when a hiss leaves his lips. He also wipes across his abdomen, more carefully over his ribs. The red has calmed, now more of a rosier pink on his skin. “How are your ribs?”
Eddie looks down as if he forgot they were even there. “Fine.”
Buck tosses the towel before joining Eddie in bed. He curls up behind him, intertwining their ankles. He carefully wraps his arms loosely around his waist, not wanting to disturb any of his injuries as he lazily presses kisses behind his ear.
As he lies there, he realizes how different the atmosphere feels. The energy has just absolutely plummeted. Eddie is in his arms, securely so but for one reason or another, something still feels off. He’s allowing the hold but still kind of feels.. Detached. Cold. Did he not like what they did? Did Buck say something to upset him?
“Everything okay?” Buck asks, bracing himself internally.
Eddie turns, glancing at him over his shoulder. “Yeah, why?”
Buck places a placating kiss to his cheek, like he’s already trying to soften his approach. Eddie melts further into his chest. “I don't know. You just seem like you’re in your head.”
Eddie hums, turning back to face the door. “I’m okay.”
It dawns on him that Eddie isn’t really holding onto him. A hand lays on his forearm but his arms are wrapped around himself, almost like he’s closing in on himself. Protecting himself.
Buck tightens his arms around him even though he feels like he’s too late. It still feels as though Eddie is slipping away and he feels helpless. Like there's just nothing he can do about it. “I’m sorry,” he tries. Eddie twists his head, brow raised in confusion. “That I wasn’t there.” When the clarification settles, Eddie’s face does too into something seldom. “I should’ve been.”
Eddie faces away from him again, this time his grip tightening. It’s not in the same way of feeling like something was slipping from it but like he felt himself slipping and wanted to make one last effort to catch himself. “Yeah, you should have.”
“I’m here now. I mean it,” he says, guilt seeping into his bones when the words no longer feel like enough. Not when he already made a promise to have his back and left him when the time came. “If you feel like you need to fight, maybe next time, we can just.. Talk instead?”
Buck doesn't even feel like he has the right to ask that of him but he wants to try. It proves to be the wrong thing to say when silence follows, carrying in for much longer than he expects. Finally, he hears a sigh. He can’t distinguish if it’s exasperated as it seems when it hits his ears or if his mind is playing tricks on him. “Yeah, Buck. Maybe.”
He doesn’t say anything else; no words seem sufficient anyway and he hopes this is something that can maybe fix itself tomorrow. Instead, he focuses on pouring what he can into his hold. He tightens his arms around Eddie, a promise to not let go, one he promises to keep. He doesn’t let go, not when Eddie’s hands eventually fall in front of him. Not when his breathing evens out and he starts letting out the softest snores. Not even when he starts to feel it too and slowly starts drifting. Buck hopes that when Eddie wakes up, he sees it.
Buck stayed.
And he never plans for that to change, ever again. He was going to do whatever it took and spend the rest of his days showing up. These things take time and Eddie has already been more forgiving than he deserves. So maybe he’ll just keep proving himself, over and over.