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Listen, Buck knows he’s got a few screws loose. It kind of comes with the job. If you’re willing to run headfirst into burning buildings and scale the occasional cliff (or rollercoaster), your sense of self is bound to be a little off. It’s just that– well. Buck really believed, up until about ten minutes ago, that he knew himself pretty well. He knows he’s into The Pitt, into baking, into sweaters. He really likes making lists, and occasionally, he enjoys surfing. As long as Eddie’s on the beach, waiting for him.
He also happens to enjoy jerking off. And, like, yeah, who doesn’t, right? But this is different. Buck approaches jerking off the same way he approaches any of his other hobbies: with vim and vigour. He’s got a whole system to ensure he gets a good orgasm out of it, and – not to brag – he’s gotten so good at it that he doesn’t even need to watch porn to get himself there. His imagination is that good.
Since Eddie and Chris returned from Texas, things have changed, obviously, given that Buck’s living with them now. For one, he only jerks off in the shower. For two, he has to be quick, and that does throw a wrench in the system. But he’s good at it, is what he’s getting at. He knows how to make himself feel good.
And unfortunately, his body’s still sort of… tuned to the bachelor pad lifestyle. So, naturally, he’s horny a lot.
It worries him at first. Okay, maybe more than worries him– he’d called the doctor’s office to ask about it, which was a bust. They told him it was normal to have a high sex drive, which, yeah, but how does one lower it? Reddit was a total bust too. Ur in ur 30’s dude, dickmaster13 had said. Don’t repress that shit, listen to your body. The username had not inspired much confidence in Buck.
And now– now, Buck’s reckoning with his actions. He’d called Ravi. He shudders, remembering it now, the way he’d stumbled through explaining his situation and Ravi’s voice had gone all quiet and pleading as he’d said: Please, please, please don’t get me involved in your rituals.
The solution he’s come up with, of course, is to simply not jerk off. If he doesn’t get off, his body will have to get used to it. He’s done it before, back when he helped Kameron and Connor out with the sperm donation– the only difference now is that there’s no end in sight.
It’s just that… he keeps slipping up. With Christopher away at science camp, and Eddie flitting in and out of the house, Buck has just enough time to think about maybe tugging one out before, inevitably, Eddie comes back home.
It’s getting bad. The smallest thing can set him off. Awkward sex scenes on TV. Phallic-shaped lamps. Strained grunts at the gym. And now Buck’s sharing Eddie’s bed with him, which would be fine, except the sheets smell like him, and–
Look. He’s not proud of it. It’s not like he’s in love with Eddie or– or anything like that, but Eddie just– he smells really nice, and Buck may have, very gently, humped the bed with his face buried in a pillow. Maybe.
Anyway, it’s done now. What’s he supposed to do, go back in time and yell at himself? The orgasm was worth it, and he’s never doing it again. End of story.
“If we’re watching Elementary, we’re starting from season three,” Eddie’s saying, manspreading on the couch while scrolling through their Continue Watching list. He’s wearing a black tank top – the one he sleeps in – and these ludicrous sweatpants Buck swears to God he’s never seen before. They’re grey, and does nothing to hide the bulge he cannot seem to avoid, no matter where he looks. Not to mention Eddie’s ass, and thighs, and the way his muscles shift when he moves.
All at once, the blood in Buck’s body flees south.
His eyes flit all over Eddie, even as he berates himself for looking. It’s just– Eddie’s arms. Buck knows how much he lifts, and he wishes there was a bro-y way to tell Eddie he wouldn’t mind getting put in a chokehold. By him. And his arms.
There are a couple of things Buck could say in response. Like: why not season two? Or: sure thing, buddy!
What comes out of his mouth is, “I’m gonna pass out.”
Eddie looks up in alarm, and Buck’s just standing in the middle of the living room like a fucking donut.
“You light-headed?” Eddie asks, remote abandoned. He looks a second away from springing from the couch to catch Buck.
“No, uh, s-sorry, I’m just,” Buck cringes at himself, fists tightening around the two beers he’s holding. “Just. Thirsty.”
Eddie’s eyebrows furrow. “You sure?”
“Mhm,” Buck manages, jerking back into action to plop down next to Eddie. Studiously, he avoids Eddie’s gaze. “So sure.”
Eddie’s not dissuaded. “What’s your face doing?”
Buck makes an affronted noise, shooting Eddie a look. “My face isn’t doing anything.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Eddie. It’s not.”
“Yes, it–”
“I’m horny,” Buck blurts. Instantly, his face flushes, body going warm with humiliation. Eddie’s eyes go comically wide.
Beautiful save, Buckley.
Eddie’s mouth opens and closes a few times like a fish. “You… you’re horny?”
“Yes, okay?” Buck should leave the room. “I just– I haven’t, you know, in a while, and it’s throwing my body all out of– I don’t even know. Can we forget this?” He tips his head up to the ceiling. “Please?”
Subtly, Eddie’s shoulders start to shake. Buck chances another look at him, and– oh, the bastard–
“You’re laughing?” Buck’s going to be the first person on Earth to die of embarrassment. “Why are you– Eddie!”
“I’m sorry,” Eddie snickers, reaching over to snag a beer out of Buck’s slack grasp. “I’m sorry, man. Just… really?”
“Let’s not talk about this.” Buck’s voice cracks horribly on the last word.
Silence.
Then, voice full of mirth, Eddie asks, “But why?”
“Why what?”
“Why haven’t you been, you know?”
“It’s just,” Buck starts, then stops himself. He’s got chronic foot-in-mouth disease, and he simply cannot allow any feet in his mouth right now. If he so much as mentions not having the space or time to jerk off, or – God forbid – to use his whole system, Eddie will feel bad.
They’ve been best friends for nearly a decade, is the thing. But Eddie missed Buck’s whole 1.0 era, and Buck’s done such a good job keeping his… hyper-sexuality under wraps. And now Buck’s fixated on Eddie, of all people. For some reason. He just– he can’t risk him finding out. Not when he was so understanding when Buck first came out. He cannot be the stereotype, cannot be the guy who secretly lusts after his best friend.
“I’m not used to it,” he settles on. “Doing it in the shower, I mean.”
Humming indulgently, Eddie takes a sip of beer.
“It’s, uh, it’s, you know. It’s fine.” Buck scratches the back of his neck. “It just takes a while to…”
“Finish?”
Buck has to manually inhale. “Yep. So.”
Eddie fiddles with the rim of the bottle. “I don’t mind,” he says, casual as anything. “You take the time you need, man. Just let me know if you need some space.”
If Buck could get away with it, he would whine. Pathetically. But he can’t, because he’s an adult with a real job and (mostly) healthy relationships with all his friends. Blowing it now would be kind of lame.
Making a less dramatic noise of complaint, Buck gets to his feet. Great. Okay, so he’s standing now. Maybe he should walk.
He walks.
“You’re pacing,” Eddie comments mildly.
Buck frowns.
“Buck,” Eddie says, gentler now. Buck stills, flickering his gaze at him, and man, he’s so fucked. Eddie looks apologetic, and sweet, and beautiful. “I really couldn’t care less about your… habits. I care that you’re stressed.”
He says it so diplomatically that Buck’s shoulders slump. And then he slumps his way back to the couch. And then he slumps on the couch.
And then he sighs.
“I’ll put on a movie, okay?”
Jesus, Eddie’s still being gentle with him. Face burning, Buck nods.
This whole situation is just— it’s annoying. Eddie’s house has always felt like a reprieve, and now that he’s living here, he’d been keen on indulging in said reprieve. But he can’t be in Eddie’s — his best friend’s — vicinity if he also wants to relax. He’s just… Eddie’s just so— stupidly good looking. And he means that platonically! Anyone with eyes can see that Eddie’s attractive. He belongs on billboards and perfume ads, where the rest of the world gets to taste but never touch. Not that Buck gets to touch either, but, well, he gets to see him up close. So he’s still winning.
The movie Eddie picked is, as it turns out, explicit. The first steamy scene is okay. Buck powers through it because he is a strong, independent man with a (slender) grasp on self-control.
The second one kind of trips him up.
He’s always been a fan of those so-desperate-we-don’t-even-get-our-clothes-off moments, okay? When two people want each other so badly they can’t stop for a second, and every little touch burns but never quite satiates the need entirely. He loves being that keyed up, so hungry for someone that he’d let them slip their hands into his jeans to take him out, touches fast and uncoordinated, legs parting as if on instinct to let him in.
And, naturally, that is exactly what’s happening on Eddie’s TV.
Buck has the insane thought that maybe Eddie did this on purpose, but when he raises an eyebrow at him, Eddie shrugs.
When the third sex scene rolls around, Buck slips further down the couch, groaning into his hands.
“You okay there, bud?”
“Sure. Peachy.”
“This, uh…” Eddie clears his throat. “This doing it for you?”
Buck removes his hands from his face to glare at him.
Unsympathetic monster that he is, Eddie raises his eyebrows.
It’s not often that Buck has to hold himself back from simply tackling Eddie, but right now is one of those rare occasions. He’s vibrating with it, the urge to simply– get him. Put him in a headlock. Something.
It’s not like they haven’t talked about sex before. They’ve discussed everything from hookups to weird sex habits, but it’s always, always remained vague.
This, Buck thinks, is not vague. This is about the heat currently simmering in Buck’s gut, right next to Eddie. An ongoing situation, so to speak. Eddie does not seem to understand how dire the circumstances are.
And it’s not like he wants Eddie to feel bad for him. That would be insane. It’s just– Eddie’s acting so normal about it. Like he can’t sense Buck’s inevitable boner in the room with them, haunting the narrative of their otherwise run-of-the-mill movie night.
Eddie takes another sip of his beer before resting his arm on the backrest, and Buck surreptitiously watches his muscles flex. He tries to resist, but his eyes flicker down to Eddie’s armpit, to the hair there, and that brings Buck’s eyes to Eddie’s stomach– to the sliver of skin uncovered by his shirt. He looks unfairly touchable here, in a way he never really does in Buck’s mind. Like a man made of flesh and bone, and not the shapeless, inaccessible, damn-near glowing entity Buck sees when Eddie pops into his head. Here and now, he can feel it, the ache in his chest, the ever-present love-trust-safety of being in Eddie’s presence.
Buck takes a very measured breath and refocuses on the screen.
When one of the actors moans on screen again, Buck squeezes his eyes shut, willing his dick to behave. He feels like cheese on a pizza. Melty and stringy and shapeless.
“How about we watch the game instead?” Eddie suggests, voice still painfully normal.
Buck cracks an eye open to look at him. “You sure?”
At that, Eddie huffs a laugh. “You’re sitting here suffering, man. I don’t wanna prolong that.”
“I can be normal,” Buck says, defensive.
Again, Eddie raises an eyebrow. God save Buck from that eyebrow.
“I can,” he insists.
Another moan.
“What game is on?” he asks.
Eddie purses his lips around a smile and grabs the remote.
Thirty minutes and a football half-time later, Buck manages to settle. Moderately. He’s being so good, too. Hasn’t moved. Hasn’t made any weird noises. Even the heat in his gut has lessened.
So, of course, Eddie chooses to groan long and low, stretching his back out. Most of his joints crack. Buck salivates.
“We should– bed,” Buck says quickly. He chances a quick look at his watch, wincing internally when it tells him it’s barely nine. They’re not even working tomorrow, which means they would normally stay up for at least another three hours.
“Sure,” Eddie says, eyes flickering to Buck’s sweatpants briefly, before adding, “You hitting the shower?”
Fuck Buck’s life, honestly.
“No, no, I– jeez, it’s been a day, you know?” He says, slapping his knees as he gets to his feet. “I’m beat.”
Eddie’s mouth twitches. “Okay, Buck.”
Like every night, Eddie trails after him into the bathroom. They brush their teeth next to each other, bumping hips, and Eddie’s already halfway done pulling his dick out to piss when Buck flees the room.
He’s never had to flee before. This is a nightmare.
Maybe the others were right about them, he thinks frantically, marching toward the bedroom. Maybe they’re a little too close.
God, why is his heart beating so fast?
Buck’s rooting through the dresser looking for his sleep shorts when Eddie sidles into the bedroom. Buck does a double-take when he looks up, eyes roving over the planes of Eddie’s naked chest, the way his sweatpants ride low enough to reveal he’s not wearing any underwear.
“This is weird,” Buck says, wondering how the hell he’s been living like this for two months. He knows Eddie sleeps with as few clothes on as possible. And he– Jesus, Buck’s the one who first suggested they share a bed, when Eddie kept insisting on taking the couch.
Eddie tilts his head. “Not really.” He makes his way over to Buck, his arm brushing Buck’s when he peeks over his shoulder. “Looking for something?”
“My– my shorts.” Buck must have latent masochistic tendencies, because he turns his head to look at Eddie’s face. And– Eddie’s face is one of Buck’s favourite things to look at. He knows every inch of it, from the slope of his nose to the length of his eyelashes. He can tell when Eddie’s pretending he isn’t amused, when he’s secretly frustrated, and when he looks mad but is actually upset.
This, though?
Buck’s not sure Eddie’s ever looked at him like this before.
“It’s pretty warm,” Eddie says, voice softer now.
“Y-yeah,” Buck agrees, tongue heavy, “I guess it is.”
This close, it’s almost impossible not to inhale Eddie’s aftershave. The musky undertones wash over Buck, an ember sparking back to life beneath Buck’s skin.
Eddie’s depthless brown eyes bore into him, the way they have so many times before when Buck’s being unforthcoming. But Buck’s not holding anything back this time, he’s just– he’s just confused. He doesn’t know what’s happening.
Buck’s just about to ask if Eddie’s trying to communicate with him telepathically through sheer force of will when Eddie’s fingers graze Buck’s side.
Buck, miraculously, does not jump.
“How’s your leg?”
Buck blinks. Rallying, he clears his throat before finally looking away. “It’s– it’s okay.”
“I’ll have a look,” Eddie says, like it’s a given. His hands find Buck’s shoulders before he nudges Buck forwards, letting go when Buck braces himself against the wall. He does so instinctively, with his elbows, like he’s about to get–
Chill, Buckley.
This– this is also unprecedented. Normally, Eddie would have Buck sitting on the bed so he could–
“Stretch out your leg for me,” Eddie murmurs, voice below him now, like he’s on his knees, right behind him. Valiantly, Buck does not turn around to confirm.
Heart thundering in his chest, Buck gingerly stretches his leg, barely aware of the internal sting in his knee.
“Good,” Eddie says quietly, and warmth floods Buck’s body so fast he has to close his eyes.
Okay. Okay, so maybe Buck’s a little in love. With Eddie. Who is currently on the floor with his hands on Buck’s knee.
Sure. This is a thing he is equipped to deal with.
“Okay?” Eddie checks, fingers digging into Buck’s calf before smoothing over his skin.
“Okay,” Buck confirms shakily. And it is okay, except for the fact that he’s half-hard, and his heart’s beating out of his chest, and he’s pretty sure he’s breathing too fast.
For just a moment, Eddie’s fingers graze Buck’s inner thigh. It’s enough to have Buck pressing his forehead to the wall.
“No knots,” Eddie says, and then he’s standing again, hovering behind Buck, and Buck just– he can’t turn around. He’s absolutely tenting his sweats, and whatever his face is doing cannot be good.
But then, so quietly Buck almost misses it, Eddie says, “Fuck.”
Buck doesn’t move.
Eddie’s hand finds the small of Buck’s back, pressing ever so slightly against his too-hot skin. Almost instinctually, Buck arches, shoulders blades shifting with it.
“Buck,” Eddie breathes, fingers skirting over Buck’s back. “Can I…?”
Repressing a shiver, Buck wets his lips and nods once sharply. He doesn’t know what this is. He doesn’t know what Eddie wants, but they’ve almost always been on the same page. Buck will find the damn page.
“Y-yeah,” he says, voice gruff. “Yeah, whatever you want.”
Eddie doesn’t respond, hand slipping down to grab Buck’s waist. For a moment, nothing happens, but then– Eddie presses himself to Buck, groin to ass. Eddie’s other hand finds Buck’s stomach, like he’s holding him here, holding him still.
Buck’s stomach flexes reflexively, a bolt of arousal slamming into him. He goes from half-mast to painfully hard in a matter of seconds. Head spinning, Buck tries to catch up to this reality. A reality in which Eddie wants him.
“Okay?” Eddie checks again, and Buck almost laughs. He wants to say duh and please be serious, but the words die in his throat when it hits him that–
Eddie’s hard.
Buck exhales sharply. Knows Eddie can feel the way he’s tensing, anticipation swirling in his gut.
“So okay,” he manages.
Slowly, like he’s testing the waters, Eddie rolls his hips against Buck, his dick a hot, hard line. He does it again, and again, breathing getting shallower in time with Buck’s. Eddie’s head tips forward, forehead resting just below Buck’s neck like he’s looking down, like he’s watching himself all but hump Buck where he’s got him pressed against the wall.
Eddie’s breath stutters, and then his hips push in faster in tight circles like he’s found the perfect angle. He’s so close now that his stomach’s pressed against Buck’s back, Buck pressing back to mould himself to him. The hand on Buck’s stomach twitches, fingers slipping closer to the waistband of his sweats.
A fat drop of pre soaks the front of Buck’s sweats, a soft whimper escaping him. He knows he’s dripping, knows he might genuinely shoot off the second his dick gets any attention. It’s just– his best friend’s getting off on him, using his body to make himself come. Buck’s never been so turned on in his life.
But then, suddenly, Eddie pulls back. He doesn’t let go of Buck, and, dazed, Buck blinks down at the floor.
Behind him, Eddie shuffles around. Buck quiets his breathing, straining his ears, and— oh. A soft schlack-schlack-schlack noise fills the room. Eddie’s– he’s jerking jerking off, the tip of his dick kissing the small of Buck’s back, left hand now gripping his waist tightly.
Another wave of arousal hits Buck, so fast he gets dizzy, and he has to brace himself harder on the wall.
“Closer,” he gasps, and the noises stop abruptly.
“What?” Eddie pants.
Buck does not have the brain capacity to spell this out for him. Exhaling, he leans back far enough for Eddie’s fist to nudge Buck’s back. Eddie sucks in a breath.
“Are you—"
“Eddie.” Buck’s voice is strangled.
“Yeah,” Eddie says after a beat. “Yeah.”
Hand slipping from Buck’s stomach, Eddie dips his fingers below Buck’s waistband and tugs. He squeezes Buck’s waist, almost reassuringly, as he works the underwear down Buck’s legs, until they’re pooling around his feet on the floor.
“Can–” Eddie pants, “Can I–”
Eddie presses tenderly to the skin above Buck’s hole.
Jesus fucking Christ on a pogo stick, Buck thinks. Yes, please just–
“Put the– the tip in.”
For the first time all night, Eddie moans. It’s a quiet thing, low in his throat, but– but Buck did that. Buck caused that.
He jerks when Eddie spits, his own cock twitching like it’s trying to salute. He makes a soft noise, softening the whine his throat seems keen on letting escape.
“Jesus,” Eddie breathes, before pressing a finger to Buck’s hole, smearing the spit into him.
Buck’s eyes nearly roll back.
“You don’t have to finger me,” he says in a rush, desperate now.
Eddie stills. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Not gonna hurt me,” Buck promises, hands spasming. He curls them into fists. “Not if, if it’s just the tip.”
Reluctantly, Eddie pulls his thumb back. And then the schlack-schlack-schlack noise is back, wetter this time.
“Okay,” Eddie says, voice low. He presses his mouth to Buck’s shoulder, sucking in a breath like he’s breathing him in. His hand speeds up, and a zing of pleasure shoots through Buck at the thought that Buck’s scent turns Eddie on.
All thoughts vacate his head when the wet tip of Eddie’s dick makes contact with his hole.
Eddie’s breathing like he’s run a marathon, the head of his dick pushing insistently at Buck’s hole. And then, suddenly, the muscles give, and Eddie freezes, chest hitching.
“Shit,” Eddie breathes, hand spasming around Buck’s waist.
When Buck makes a truly pathetic noise, Eddie presses an open-mouthed kiss to his shoulder.
Buck doesn’t anticipate Eddie’s hand grazing his stomach again, still adjusting the size of Eddie’s head stretching him open, the familiar burn. He twitches at the touch, and Eddie hooks his chin over Buck’s shoulder, like he wants a closer look.
“Need a hand?”
The question is so unexpected that Buck huffs a laugh. Eddie presses a smile into Buck’s neck.
“Yeah. Yeah, I mean, if– if you want.”
“I’m a handy guy,” Eddie says, and Buck can’t help but grin.
Eddie’s dick flexes – Buck can feel that, because he’s inside of him – the second he wraps his fingers around Buck. He gives Buck an experimental stroke, spreading the pre with the palm of his hand.
“You’re so wet,” Eddie says.
Buck moans, too loud for– for whatever this is, but then Eddie’s hips twitch, hand squeezing Buck. He strokes Buck again, this time confidently, and Buck has to bite his lip around a whimper.
Eddie twists his fist. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Buck agrees emphatically, lightheaded. “Yeah, please– please, Eddie.”
He doesn’t know what he’s begging for. Eddie’s hips twitch again, the hand not on Buck’s dick coming to rest on Buck’s ass, pulling at the flesh as if to see where they’re connected, where they’re joined.
“E-Eddie.” Buck breathing stutters as he turns his face, lips grazing Eddie’s cheek. Eddie makes a soft noise, half-lidded eyes finding Buck’s before fluttering closed, his mouth kissing the corner of Buck’s.
Buck’s body shudders at the gentle contact, dick hardening before jerking in Eddie’s hand as his vision whites out. His knees nearly buckle, a flood of pleasure washing over him as his cock spits all over Eddie’s wall.
Holy shit, he– he came on Eddie’s wall.
Eddie makes a wounded noise, hips jerking haltingly as his hand works Buck over. He doesn’t let go until Buck slurs, “‘M good, I wanna– Eddie, wanna make you come.”
“Jesus, you’re–” Eddie’s breathing picks up as he resumes jerking himself off, the tip of his dick still nestled inside of Buck. “You’re so good, Buck. So–”
Buck presses back, and Eddie slips in another inch.
Eddie chokes out a soft, “Fuck.” He buries his face in the crook of Buck’s neck, hand spasming around Buck’s waist, canines grazing his skin. Buck listens intently to the wet noise of Eddie jerking off, his fist colliding with Buck’s ass as he speeds up.
“Gonna–”
“Inside,” Buck manages, fever-warm and wobby. “Inside, you can come inside me–”
Eddie’s cock pulses, body seizing as he groans, hand flying over his dick. He gasps, and Buck gasps right along with him ‘cause he can feel it, the sudden warmth of Eddie’s come spilling inside of him.
Neither of them says anything as they breathe. Eddie slips out of Buck, but makes no move to step away, a steady presence at his back. Buck knows he’s shaking a little, the way he sometimes does after a good orgasm. If he focuses, he can feel Eddie’s come dribbling out of him. He wonders if Eddie’s looking at it.
Still panting, Buck says, “Hallelujah, dude.”
Behind him, Eddie snorts, head thunking against Buck’s shoulder before he nuzzles into his neck.
“Hallelujah,” he echoes, and Buck cracks, laughing like he just beat Eddie in a race.
“Turn around, man,” Eddie says after a moment, and when Buck does – on unsteady feet – Eddie’s grinning.
Buck feels himself grin right back at him.
He’s not sure what he’s expecting – a clap on the shoulder, like, good game? – but he certainly wasn’t prepared for Eddie to draw him into a kiss.
He makes a soft noise of surprise, hand coming up to cradle Eddie’s face. Eddie presses closer, gentle but firm, like he really wants Buck to know he means business.
They trade kisses back and forth until Buck smiles, and then Eddie smiles, and it becomes impossible to keep kissing.
“What– what happens now?” Buck asks, a sudden spike of nerves threatening to flip his stomach. He realises abruptly that he’s still naked from the waist down.
Eddie raises an eyebrow – the eyebrow! Again! - and tilts his head. “Sleep?”
Buck huffs, ducking his head. “No, I– with us. Is this… I don’t really know what just happened,” he admits.
Eddie’s face softens. “Buck,” he starts, “Come on.”
“I did come on,” Buck says. “On your wall.”
Eddie barks a laugh, eyes crinkling. Buck’s heart aches.
“Okay,” Eddie breathes, still chuckling. “Okay, I’m doing this all out of order. You,” he pokes Buck in the chest, then points to himself, “Me. Date tomorrow?”
Heart tripping over itself, Buck stutters, “W-what?”
Eddie does not seem discouraged. “I’m asking if you wanna go steady with me, Buckley.”
“I– yeah, yeah, of course I– Eddie.” Buck does tackle Eddie then, like he’d been craving to, right onto the bed. Eddie laughs the whole way down, careless and happy, and for the first time in his life, Buck knows what his future’s going to look like. He can picture the mornings, soft and slow, full of familiar touches and off-tune humming. The evenings, spent on the couch, getting ragged on by Christopher. And– work. Work, where they’ll have each other’s backs the way they always have.
“Good,” Eddie tells him, hugging him close. “‘Cause you’re kind of it for me.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, Buck loses a shaky breath. “Yeah, you’re kind of it for me too.”