Work Text:
His baby hasn’t been the same since the lightning strike.
Eddie gets it. He does.
He almost lost his damn life and arm in Afghanistan not even a decade ago. Then again to a well collapse. And again to a sniper It haunts him, then a million little times in between all of those occurrences. Sometimes he wakes up with his faded scars aching and the smells of thick sand making his throat tight. He can't breathe, he can't eat, it's all too heavy.
The therapy helps. They're fading into the distance alongside the rest of his memories more and more every day.
This is different, though.
Buck’s heart stopped. He died up on that ladder, and there’s nothing either of them could’ve done to stop it.
Eddie was the one to restart his heart, to keep all that beautiful blood pumping, and it still wasn’t enough. No amount of love or money in the world could’ve gotten Buck to wake up - whatever it would’ve cost, Eddie would’ve paid. He’d do anything to keep Buck.
Even if that means never loving him out loud.
So when Chief Williams and Captain Mehta invite him to take their empty seat at the poker table tonight, Eddie asks if he can bring a plus-one.
It’s only a coincidence that Buck has randomly gained the ability to do advanced arithmetics in his head.
It’s better than the list of side effects that Eddie studied in the hospital waiting room when he didn’t know whether his baby would live or die. He won't think too hard about it until it all comes crashing down on them both.
Until then... Poker.
“What are you doing tonight?” He asks as he walks into his kitchen where Buck has been for the better part of two hours, doing God knows what to his poor oven.
There’s a pan out with everything needed to bake Christopher’s favorite cookies from scratch. Eddie swallows back the love and maybe a little bile, forcing it back into the place it rests behind his teeth, and shamelessly checks Buck out.
The contract says nothing about sexual objectification.
Eddie's sugaring only extends to Buck. He is his one and only baby and will be until they're old and gray or until Buck moves on.
Because God knows Eddie won't.
Buck rolls his eyes all bratty. Typical . “I think you’re about to tell me what my plans are,” he replies nonchalantly, flipping through the cookbook and leaning obscenely over the kitchen counter.
God, his ass is so flat. Eddie loves it.
Eddie walks up behind him and pinches him right on the cheek through his pants, and laughs loudly when Buck jumps and glares at him over his shoulder.
He loves him, but that’s not exactly part of their contract.
The contract in question, written up by Eddie’s attorney and signed by the three of them, plainly states that romantic entanglement between them severs their professional relationship. Buck wouldn’t get his bi-weekly lump sum of cash and Eddie would lose the only person he trusts enough to spoil (besides his son, but Christopher will always be taken care of first).
What’s normal to them is weird to some.
They go on vacation, all three of them or sometimes the two of them if Carla is free to babysit for a few extra days now that Chris is old enough to tell them when he does and doesn't want to go. With what he pays her she was able to wean off working for most of her other clients and be Christopher’s main care provider. His son isn't a fan of the more outdoorsy-centered trips and hates campers after the last time he came and they forgot their composting toilet at home. Pooping in the woods traumatized him for good. Eddie really can't blame him - if Buck wasn't a giant puppy and begged like one too, he wouldn't be going hiking every other weekend either.
Eddie buys Buck anything he wants. If Eddie watches him put a nice cooking knife down because his is beginning to wear out and he can wait awhile, it’ll be on his doorstep an hour after he’s dropped off at home. Practical things, like a sturdier coffee table or satin sheets that are good for his picky sensitive skin and that fancy hair shampoo Buck would never spend money on. It’s little things here and there that improve his life, not a nightmare of overconsumption.
Things to make him subtly happy without taking him over. Like a coffee machine or slipper suitable for his wide feet or a shiny new vibrator that he isn’t allowed to use without Eddie but it sits in his drawer patiently for the next time they’re both free.
If Eddie has the money, why not spend it on Buck, a man who regularly volunteers outside of his noble career and feeds stray cats, and loves his son almost as much as Eddie does?
Buck’s glare quickly morphs into that shy smile, the one where his blush gets pretty over his cheeks and he ducks his head like a swooning damsel when Eddie wraps his hands around his hips, rubbing his thumbs over the soft waistband of his sweats. A bit of a tease if he does say so himself, but so worthwhile when gooseflesh breaks out onto the pale skin there.
Eddie noses behind Buck’s ear and tugs on it with his teeth. “And you’ll do anything I say, isn’t that right? Because you’re my baby.”
Buck noticeably gulps and nods frantically, pressing himself back into Eddie’s chest. This close, their height difference is barely noticeable. Eddie loves it, loves that a man so big and powerful can be malleable enough to be tender putty in his hands. He loves taking care of him.
Eddie cranes his neck to kiss Buck’s cheek. With one last slap to his ass, he steps away like nothing ever happened.
“Be in the bedroom at nine so I can get you ready.”
“What kind of ‘ready?’” Buck asks curiously.
Eddie shakes his head. “You’ll find out at nine.”
Perfectly on time even after baking three entire batches of cookies, cleaning up, and reading a quarter of a book while eating half of said cookies, Buck steps into Eddie’s bedroom right at nine sharp.
“Good to know you can listen to directions when you want to,” Eddie chides, gesturing for Buck to come closer. “You’re wearing Indochino tonight. Maroon velvet jacket with all black underneath.”
“Are we matching?”
“Complimentary,” he answers. “Let's get you dressed.”
Buck is pliant under Eddie’s steady hands, as fragile as he was dead on that gurney. They shower together quickly, not lingering on washing one another’s hair or giving into the temptations of their half-hard lengths. They dry off as quickly as they got in.
As always, Eddie gets Buck ready first. He’s fussier about his wardrobe and how the fabrics feel on his skin. Eddie has a lengthening list, and avoids them at every cost. He’ll ensure the comfort of his baby over buying fancy sherpa blankets any day.
Eddie buttons Buck’s shirt after slipping it over his broad shoulders. He pays no mind to Buck’s eye roll when he insists on buttoning his pants, running his knuckles over the growing bulge of Buck’s cock behind the briefs as he zips up the slacks then ignoring his pleasure altogether. Patience is a virtue Buck needs to learn in the bedroom, even if Eddie is more indulgent than he is strict.
Eddie has a hard time not giving Buck everything he wants to.
That’s how they got into this mess in the first place.
“What’s with the fancy dress code?” Buck asks as he finally catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. “Are you sure about this?”
“Relax,” Eddie replies gently as he slides into his own clothes quickly. It's a simple black turtleneck with a deep blue jacket and matching slacks. Nothing new or special - he saved that for Buck. “It’s a good place to put your new skills to use. Then maybe we can put ‘em to use in Vegas.”
As if Eddie needs more than what he has. He supposed he’d donate it, or put more money away for Christopher’s future on top of the plethora that's already there.
This is for Buck. Nothing less than the best gambling therapy for his baby.
“This is not going to end well.”
“It’ll be fine,” he reassures. He reaches into his underwear drawer - it’s a goddamn miracle Buck didn’t find this before - and slides out a small, long box. “Come here. I got something for you.”
Buck turns, his eyes shining with anxiety as he looks at the box. He smiles brightly when Eddie reveals what’s inside, running his finger over the cool metal.
It’s a simple, beautiful gold chain, one that’ll fit perfectly snug over Buck’s neck and collarbones. Eddie has all of Buck’s measurements on standby for when he wants to pre-order surprise gifts. A memento that will hopefully bring them both a night of luck.
“It’s beautiful,” Buck breathes. He gives Eddie a chaste peck on the lips, something they had to negotiate into their contract, and beams staring at the present. “Thank you, Eddie.”
Buck refused to have any sex without kissing, and Eddie had been more than relieved. He would’ve done whatever Buck wanted, but he thanks God every single day that he can kiss Buck and be as touchy as he wants with him.
Kissing reminds Eddie of the love he has to push back, of everything he can’t have because he can kiss Buck. Their relationship is written on a few pages with ink, not really by them or their feelings.
He chokes it back in favor of staring at Buck, his baby.
“Can I put it on you?” He asks, staring at Buck’s bare neck, soon to be decorated with Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.
Spoiling Buck makes Eddie feel like he is all his to do as he pleases.
To spoil, to keep, to love.
His man. His partner. His baby.
With a short nod, Eddie carefully undoes the clasp of the necklace. Leaning in to secure it around Buck’s neck is intimate. It puts them nose-to-nose, chest-to-chest, heart-to-heart.
It’s even more fitting than Eddie imagined it to be. The chain gleams over his chest, highlighting the muscle definition he has there. It matches the black and maroon suit wonderfully, even moreso, it accentuates Eddie’s favorite features - Buck’s birthmark, and eyes.
Buck had learned to stop asking what the cost of his presents were a long time ago. Eddie has never and will never tell him. The only amount Buck has any say in is his allowance, and sometimes those are replaced with spa trips or a shopping spree, an activity they can do together. Spending quality time with Buck means more than buying him tangible items, in Eddie’s personal and financial opinion.
Eddie pinches the necklace, then lets his fingers roam upwards to hold Buck’s jaw so he has nowhere to hide from the compliments he’s about to be showered with. “You look so good. I’ll have to do something about that later, huh? You gonna let me fuck you in nothing but this necklace? It’ll look so pretty with all that pink skin. Do you want that?”
The nod Buck responds with isn’t good enough. He tightens his hand just so - never enough to hurt him and gives him a stern look. “Use your words.”
“I want it,” Buck whispers. “All of it.”
“Good boy,” he praises quietly, using that low voice that never fails to get Buck going. He begins to smooth the ruffles out of Buck’s jacket, mostly as an excuse to get a little handsy before they go in public. Hell, Eddie would do it in public too, but he doesn’t to draw attention to the eye candy on his arm. Buck is his for the night. No one else should look or touch. “Have you played poker before?”
“Maddie taught me,” he answers. “I’m not very good.”
“That’s because you weren’t a human calculator back then,” Eddie chuckles. “Poker is all about math and strategy. How does everything fit? Does it feel good?”
“It’s nice. I like the velvet,” Buck replies, running his hands over the sleeves of his jacket. “Are you sure red looks good on me?”
He asks that as if Eddie isn’t considering canceling their limo and ripping the clothes right back off of him, save for the necklace of course. He made a promise after all. “Do you trust me?”
“Always.”
Eddie’s heart seizes up tight in his chest. Buck's deep pit of faith is better than anything a devoted Christian could give to God. Buck trusts him indefinitely. Enough to take him out of his comfort zone, enough to be here for him, enough to take care of him. It’s the best gift he could ever get.
Eddie takes Buck's hand in his own and brings it up to his lips to kiss. He looks up at him through his lashes and kisses him again.
The club is just bright enough to see the chips on every table. They arrived just in time for the first round of poker to begin. Buck’s jaw had dropped wide open at seeing his playing partners - Chief Williams, Captain Mehta, and Julie all smiling slyly at him as they descended the winding staircase.
Eddie greets the table with pleasantries and handshakes and takes his seat, leaving an empty one for Buck.
“I’m not used to having three of you from the same house,” Chief Williams notes as she surveys the table. “We’ve got an honest-to-God legend.”
Mehta looks up fondly from his chip-counting duties. “I still can’t believe you survived that, Buckley. Although, we’re all glad that you did.”
“Thank you,” Buck replies. The same discomfort in his when he woke up is here now, talking to his peers.
The chief tips her glass towards them. “Let’s see if he survives tonight.”
At Buck’s anxious expression, Eddie can’t help but smile.
They collect their chips, piling them in their respective places at the table.
“So three minutes, huh?”
Chief Williams reminds him of a shark, though that would be an insult to sharks. Her eyes are deep, dark pools of knowing. She’s whip-smart and witty too, the exact kind of woman Eddie would’ve been into as a teenager. A dominating energy that makes them all shrink into themselves. It's as arousing as it is intimidating.
Buck shifts awkwardly in his chair. “What’s that?”
“That’s how long you were dead.”
Eddie can’t help but correct her. “Three minutes and seventeen seconds.”
To most, it’s not enough of a deal to mention. Those seventeen seconds aren’t negligible in the big scheme of things. It’s barely a single inhale-exhale.
Those seventeen seconds to Eddie are everything. It was three entire minutes and seventeen entire seconds when his baby, his Buck, was dead. For three minutes and seventeen seconds, Eddie couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t love, because the only thing on his mind was Buck’s lack of heartbeat.
“You see anything?” Mehta asks, bringing the mood up from where it was shot right into the darkness at the intensity of the chief’s questioning. “Any bright lights?”
“I saw that while I was still on the ladder.”
As the game goes on, Buck’s tenseness slowly melts away. It’s not gone completely, it never will be, but he is slowly sinking into the game with ease. He doesn’t outright win rounds but he’s holding himself up better than Eddie and Julie that’s for sure.
“Red one’s a two, right?” Buck wonders aloud as he throws a couple of chips onto the pile. “I’m in for four.”
Mehta gives an inquiring glance. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll raise you three.”
Chief Williams sips her martini casually. “I’ve heard people who get struck by lightning sometimes develop… special skills.”
Beside him, Buck chuckles nervously. “Skills like, uh, like what? Woodworking?”
For as intelligent as Buck is, he’s such a shit liar.
“High-functioning stuff. Languages, or music. Or math, you know. Like counting.”
Part of the whole taking-care-of-Buck schtick is interrupting an interrogation when needed. He wants Buck to have fun, and maybe put a little more cash in his savings account.
“I’m out,” Eddie announces as he weakly throws his cards on the table.
Thank God for Julie Rosen. She clicks her tongue and smiles right at the chief. “I work with Buckley. Math isn’t exactly a strong suit.”
“Now we arrive at the river,” Mehta says. He’s a theatrical man, Eddie has come to understand. “Bets?”
The chief turns her attention to him. “Could you be more eager, Jason?”
“Three,” Buck plays.
“I see your three,” Mehta replies. “And raise you three.”
“Of course you will,” the chief coos condescendingly.
Chief Williams and Captain Mehta hold their own for far longer than Eddie ever could’ve, even as someone who comes here regularly to keep himself sharp.
Eventually, when Mehta taps out with a bang and immediately goes to get a strong drink from the bar, Eddie knows it won’t be much longer. He and Julie have been watching from behind Buck’s back for the entirety of the game.
Eddie’s chest blossoms like a flower with pride as Buck plays handful after handful, winning most of them. It’s a tight game - Chief Williams is as genius at poker as she is at her job, and she knows about Buck’s math ability now for sure.
He doesn’t even care that he’s scamming his boss. As long as Buck has some fun and wins, Eddie is happy.
Buck wins the last round, and Chief Williams gives in with a big, exasperated sigh. “Looks like quite a haul, Buckley,” she says. “So, how do you want your winnings?”
His baby won.
When Buck turns around and immediately finds Eddie, he can’t stop the triumphant smugness from shining through.
On the walk from the club to the kitchen, Eddie keeps his hand on Buck’s lower back. Not to guide him, just to touch. His baby responds spectacularly to physical touch and he can already feel the shivers through the thin undershirt. He’d stripped his jacket somewhere between the fourth and seventh rounds of poker, and Eddie was thanking God and whoever cranked up the thermostat about it. The shirt is so tight it’s practically painted on. Every crevice and line and muscle is defined through it.
“Send Captain Nash my regards,” Chief Willians tells them as the restaurant staff packs up their perfect cuts of various types of meat. “Along with your winnings.”
“I guess you were right, Eddie,” Buck says playfully. “Low steaks .”
“His humor wasn’t affected by the lightning.”
The chief only sighs. “Diaz, you are always welcome here. But leave the human calculator at the firehouse. At least until his lightning superpowers wear off.”
“Wait!” Buck yelps. “Chief-”
Chief Williams grunts as she walks away, ignoring the two of them completely.
“She definitely noticed,” Buck mourns. “I am so getting fired tomorrow.”
“You could sue for your job back,” Eddie suggests with a useless shrug. “Oh. Wait. You already did that.”
Before Buck can splutter some kind of response - either a fiery comeback or an unnecessary apology, Eddie is dragging him into the closest bathroom and clicking the lock shut after them.
They're in the first stall, the one closest to the door because Eddie's abuelo always told him not to trust any lock he didn't install himself. This is incredibly inappropriate. The boss of their boss is barely a floor away, probably sulking at her loss and plotting her revenge for the next game. Yet here they are, sucking on each other's tongues.
They spend more time making out all sloppy and filthy, trying to elicit all of those sweet noises he’s become intimately familiar with. Every time Eddie kisses him, he feels anew. Like the bud of him has been freshly planted and his sprouts are reaching sunlight for the first time since being covered by piles of dry dirt. Buck’s hands are holding his face, all warm and big and rough from life, although he’s gentle even when Eddie pushes and pushes and pushes until they have no choice but to snap from the pressure.
Slowly, ignoring the pained noises Buck makes as Eddie breaks away, he lowers himself, kissing Buck’s covered body as he goes. He makes sure to suck hard on his hard nipples through the shirt, leaving back wet patches and hopefully blooming bruises when they strip for good later tonight. Buck’s chest isn’t as sensitive as Eddie’s, but quick and dirty does the trick when it comes to getting Buck off in public.
Eddie would know.
They aren't regular public voyeurs. That would be a little sick. Eddie doesn’t take his baby out just to fuck in confined spaces where the thrill takes up most of the fun.
When the time comes, they both come.
Most of the time.
It’s what he tells himself at least, when there’s a knock on the men’s restroom and a bunch of disgruntled guests outside who know exactly what they’re doing in here.
He makes a mental note to leave a generous tip to every staff member of the night and continues where he left off.
Not bothering to unbutton the pants - the hook is on the inside, a design flaw of his accidental doing, because he never actually planned on blowing Buck until they got home where he could take his time but he just looks so good and is following directions so well that he couldn’t help it - Eddie rips the fabric with his own hands. The man-made hole is big enough to pull Buck’s cock right out through the slit in his tight briefs, fancy chiffon ones that Eddie insisted he wore tonight because of how the slightly rough fabric would drag across the sensitive skin of his groin, hopefully keeping him on edge until Eddie gets to play with him.
People can insult Eddie with whatever raunchy names they want; careless couldn't be one of them.
“To think, I haven’t even shown you the basement of this place yet,” Eddie says conversationally as if Buck’s dick isn’t out in a public restroom. There’s a monthly kink club that rents out the space underneath the bar that he found accidentally searching for some fresh air the last time he played poker.
That had been a shock.
“Don’t worry, we’ll come back soon.”
If Buck had fun, soon can easily turn into weekly.
Coming back is not his focus right now, though.
Buck’s body wasn’t his own for three minutes and seventeen seconds.
He wants Buck to take it back. He wants Buck to be in control of his life, for him to realize that he doesn’t have to rely on anybody but himself. That he is his own - not his sister’s, not Bobby’s, not even his.
Buck is his own.
Even when Eddie is cherishing him and calling him baby and bringing him home, Buck belongs to Buck.
That doesn’t mean Eddie can’t help him stake a claim himself.
Steak a claim.
Eddie would giggle if there wasn’t a giant, flushed, weeping cock right in his drooling face. He’ll have to remember and tell Buck later just so he can watch him laugh in post-orgasmic bliss.
“Fuck my face."
“Eddie,” Buck groans, his hips and cock twitching in tandem at the request.
“Do it.”
It had taken a lot of practice for Eddie to deep-throat Buck. His cock is in proportion to his body, long and thick and curved to the left just so, a body part as pretty as the rest of him. Buck had loved being part of these trial runs. The fucker got his dick sucked every day for three months before Eddie could finally get all of him. He still struggles when his baby is particularly squirmy, but they take some… preventative measures in the shape of cuffs and ropes to stop him from moving.
Eddie doesn’t mind a bit. Tying Buck up and fucking up or riding him so hard he cried is quite literally his entire will to live.
And Buck doesn’t seem to mind if the multiple orgasms are anything to go by.
“Fuck my face,” he instructs, harsher this time. “Do you want me to beg for it?”
Buck is panting already, his eyes so blown out that there’s only a small ring of black visible among the ring of blue. “Maybe I do.”
“Yes or no.”
“Yes, sir,” Buck says. “I want you to beg me to fuck your face.”
Oh, he’s such a little shit.
“Please, Buck,” Eddie whispers, leaning in to lick everywhere but where Buck needs him most. If Buck is going to make him beg, he’s going to pay for it with the blood, sweat, and tears of a man with calloused hands and dirt over his brow. “Baby, let me suck you off. It’ll be so good. I’ll make you feel so-”
“Okay,” Buck whines impatiently. “Yes, Eddie -”
“Anything for you,” Eddie replies easily.
He means it more than anything.
In one giant swoop, Eddie takes him right down to the root.
Buck isn’t really fucking his face. Not yet. He hasn't gotten comfortable. Eddie is fucking his own mouth on Buck’s cock, and the realization makes him throb hard behind his slacks. He ignores it in favor of gripping Buck’s hips tight, another one of his special erogenous zones. They had lots of fun finding that one out.
There’s nowhere else for Buck to go besides the very back of Eddie’s throat he’s just that big. The only thing Eddie can taste is flesh, none of the leaking precome because of how deep he is. He knows Buck doesn’t have the best stamina although he does have an amazing refractory period. Distantly, he wonders how many times he could make Buck come in a single night.
Eddie doesn’t stop. He takes Buck as deep as possible with every thrust and ignores the choking feeling every time they clash too roughly.
Above him, Buck has one clamped over his mouth as the other claws at his own leg, his eyes clamped tightly shut. Even behind the barrier of his palm, Eddie can hear the constant stream of words and noises that he’s desperately trying to contain.
He has half a mind to stuff something in Buck’s mouth to keep him quiet, but where’s the fun in that? And then he wouldn’t get to hear every single one of Buck’s precious, filthy noises.
Next time, he wants Buck so deep that he can feel him all the way in his belly.
Eddie pulls off to take a few much-needed breaths. He never stops the overwhelming stimulation to Buck’s leaky cock, pumping it with his spit-slick hand while he sucks a mark into his hip, covered in a plush layer of fat so delicious that Eddie sucks harder and harder until Buck is all but begging him to keep going.
Truthfully, this is as much for him as it is for Buck. He falls apart so quickly and beautifully. It’s never been hard to take Buck apart this way.
Putting him back together is the tricky part.
Eddie will have to take him out for tiramisu as a thank you. He can’t exactly write it with icing on a sheet cake, even if the thought is a little jovial.
“God, you can’t be quiet to save your fucking life,” Eddie groans. “You have to be quieter, sweetheart. What if someone walks in?” He licks a stripe up the underside of Buck’s cock and kisses the head - a small apology for all the teasing. He knows damn both the stall and bathroom doors are locked. The illusion of being caught is super hot and makes Buck's cock drool a little more, so he'll keep up the facade. “I’ll have to stop. You don’t want me to stop, do you?”
Buck whines and knocks his head back against the stall door, exposing the bulging tendons of his neck, all sweaty and pretty. “Please, please, don’t stop. I’ll be good,” he begs, half-delirious with pleasure. “Please, sir. I want to be good. Please-”
"Shh, shh,” he soothes, kissing along his v-line in what he hopes is reassuring. “I’m going to give you everything. You don’t have to keep begging for it - Not tonight. My big, sweet boy. Shhh. Look at me, Buck. Let me see you.”
With a breath as shaky as his legs, Buck hangs his head onto his chest and locks eyes with him. “There you are,” he whispers fondly. Lovingly if he were a braver man. Eddie smiles gently and reaches up for Buck’s hands to guide them into his hair. "Be the good boy I know you are.”
In the field, Buck isn’t all that good at listening to directions. Always getting himself into trouble and more often than not, injured. Major or minor, Eddie doesn’t care. He hates seeing Buck hurt. He’s constantly running back into burning buildings for the chance to save the family pet or jumping into freezing bodies of water that haven’t been cleared because he puts the people he’s saving over everything else.
Even his own life.
Buck is also defiant in bed. He’s a brat, if the handprints practically tattooed over his asscheeks are anything to go by.
At least it's a pain they can both have fun with. Eddie doesn’t take joy in watching his partner, his baby with second-degree burns and another scar blemishing the collection of his beautiful skin. Watching it for years upon years has never dimmed Eddie’s fears.
Eddie is God. He can’t prevent the inevitable tragedy that comes packages with their line of work. All Eddie can do is be here to bandage up his wounds and kiss him better.
And maybe fly him to Barcelona.
“This time I want you to control it,” Eddie mutters into the hot skin of Buck’s thighs. He can’t keep his lips off of them. His legs are strong and powerful, and after all that still quivering under his touch.
Buck fists his cock with a whine and lines it up to Eddie’s mouth himself, tapping the tip on his bottom lip. “Are you sure?”
“Make me take it, baby.”
"Yes, sir."
They lock eyes as Buck pushes back in.
It feels romantic. It's as if Buck is feeding him fresh fruit from a garden in bed; except they’re in a dirty bathroom and it’s not an orange, it’s his cock.
This way, Buck controls the pace. He controls how hard and fast to go, when he wants to push in and pull out, how deep to shallow.
Buck, ever the gentle giant, is tentative about grabbing Eddie’s hair to thrust even though it’s exactly what Eddie wants him to do, told him to do. It’s not until the head of his cock touches the back of Eddie’s soft throat does he really lose himself in it the pleasure.
In one go, Eddie has his nose into the wet briefs as his eyes steadily leak in time with Buck’s cock. It’s pulsing in his throat, leaking an amount of precome that should be considered medically impossible if it weren’t for the fact that he’s always been a weepy, sloppy mess.
Exactly how Eddie loves him.
Buck pushes himself in only enough for the head to hit the back of his throat so he can go quicker and not have to stop as often. This way, Eddie can mostly breathe. He watches him, the fucked-out expression as he gets his cock wet with drool, and it feels like Eddie is in the middle of a perverted renaissance painting.
Every once in a while he instinctively jerks away when the black spots begin to dance around in his vision. He keeps building Buck’s orgasm by swirling his tongue around the head, poking the hard tip into his slit the way he knows drives Buck insane while he takes the break. His own cock is so hard that it hurts, but he won’t touch himself.
Not until he’s inside Buck.
Or at least in the privacy of his own home with Buck touching him. He can compromise for that right now.
“Good?” He rasps, licking up the hard, bobbing length again, never stopping his ministrations where Buck is rock-hard and needy.
His baby whimpers out a response, reaching down to wipe at some of the smeared drool and precome on Eddie’s chin with his thumb benevolently. “Great,” he responds. “I should probably be asking you that.”
Another thing Eddie loves about Buck is that he’s loud. Yeah, it’s not the best in this scenario when they really should be quiet but the only thing Eddie’s animal brain cares about right now is swallowing his baby’s entire load. Eddie never has to wonder whether or not Buck is having fun or feeling good because he’s so fucking vocal about it. He's attentive, too. More caring than he needs to be. His heart drags behind his body, battered and torn.
Eddie will take care of it. One blow-job at a time.
“Keep going, baby,” Eddie coaxes as gently as he can. “We’re not finished until you are.”
This time, Buck isn’t as reserved about the shame-and-dirty this all. He lines his cock up with Eddie’s mouth and thrusts his entire length inside in, forcing Eddie to nose his briefs once again. His scent is strongest here - musk, and the vanilla shampoo he uses. It makes him delirious, more so than he already is doing this.
Buck’s isn’t yanking his hair, not really. He grips the strands and holds his head but never pulls or keeps Eddie there when his body fights back for air. Eddie knew he wouldn’t, too. He’s so good, so gentle. Even when Eddie is being fucked through a mattress so hard the frame gives out completely, the only marks he has by the end are love bites and the occasional fingerprints.
After a few particularly rough thrusts, Buck begins to lose his pace. He’s close.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” Buck mutters, his thrusts getting more uncoordinated and erratic. “Fuck, yes. God, Eddie. It’s so - so good,” he cries. “I’m so- Fuck, Eddie- I’m so… Can I come? Please? Please, sir, I need to-”
Eddie’s eyes nearly roll back into his skull at the whiney begging. God, Buck is a fucking wet dream. He’s a daydream, too. All beautiful and pale and talkative. He’s everything Eddie didn’t know he wanted until he laid eyes on him. From there, Eddie knew he had to have him.
Eddie can't nod to consent with his mouth stuffed full of cock, so he does the only thing he knows will get the message across. He's so close, and they both need it bad. He puts his hands on Buck’s asscheeks to keep him inside his mouth, his middle fingers dryly brushing his hole over the briefs. Purposefully pressing on the rim, he pushes on it even harder to spur Buck on - the promise of what's to come when they get out of here.
When Eddie doesn’t pull off, when he closes his lips around the base to suck as best he can in this position, he’s rewarded with a throat full of come.
Buck practically screams his release. It’s one of the most intense orgasms Eddie has ever witnessed from him. He’s crying and thrashing, thrusting hard into Eddie’s mouth without any resistance or thought. He’s so deep that Eddie doesn’t even taste the first few spurts, he only knows it’s happening by the way Buck stills and how his cock throbs out every wave of it.
Eddie doesn’t even think he knows he’s doing it, fucking his cock all the way down and thrusting in short snaps. He’s milking himself with Eddie's throat. The very thought makes Eddie blurt more precome into his pants, suddenly desperate for his own orgasm.
It would take less than five strokes to get himself off right here right now. In less than thirty seconds he could come with Buck - his hips are already hitching into nothing in tandem with Buck’s thrusts. Buck could blow on his cock and he would come. It’s been slowly building this entire time without so much as a bare touch.
That’s what Buck does to him.
Eddie doesn’t. Instead, he grips Buck’s ass harder and tongues the underside of Buck’s twitching cock, making sure to collect every single drop. He can’t waste anything his baby gives him. Not when he was so good.
When the high begins to wear down and Buck’s moaning turns into delicate sighs and his cock is too soft to have in his mouth any longer, Eddie pulls off and kisses his thighs over the littered marks there. As much as he loves the view, his legs are starting to ache and they’ve been locked in this bathroom for an indecent amount of time. They’ll be lucky to be allowed within fifty feet of the building ever again.
Worth it.
“Good boy,” Eddie murmurs as he wipes the excess stickiness off his mouth and chin with the sleeve of his suit, ruined by sweat, drool, and come. For good reason, too. “How do you feel?”
“Like I just fucked someone’s face,” Buck breathes. His legs are still shaking where they’re clamped in Eddie’s hands, probably the only thing keeping him upright. His chest is heaving and there’s a wetness under his eyes that suggests he felt so good that he nearly cried, and the victory swells up in the middle of Eddie’s chest. “What about you?”
Eddie smirks up at his sweet, caring boy. “Like I just had my face fucked,” he chuckles warmly, relishing in the way Buck blushes over his already pink-stained cheeks. “Come on, baby. Help me up.”
The second Eddie is back up on his feet, he ignores the aching, blooming bruises on his knees and plasters himself up against Buck, pressing him harder against the stall door. He probably looks pretty disgusting, he can still feel all the drying tears and spit and come over his face and neck, and he doesn’t even care when Buck looks at him like he hung the moon and every star in the sky.
Tenderly, Buck takes the sleeve of his shirt and wipes up Eddie’s face. He goes in slow stripes down his cheeks, his jaw, and his neck, careful not to irritate any of the skin there. He’s so gentle about it compared to the brutality of his earlier thrusts that Eddie wants to shake apart and let himself drip through the drain on the floor. Buck is so intrinsically good, it’s like that’s all he knows how to be. He’s not only friendly, he’s kind. The sweetest thing Eddie has ever tasted, his lips are honeyed and his tongue is pure sugar whenever it slips into Eddie’s mouth.
Eddie is fucking addicted to him. Touching him, kissing him, loving him would be the most intoxicating drug known to mankind if people other than him got to do it.
“Eddie,” Buck breathes as he drops his head down onto Eddie’s shoulder and presses kitten kisses to the hot tendons of his neck. “Thank you for taking me to poker.”
Yeah, they’re going to have to talk about that contract.
“You’re my baby,” is what Eddie replies, because it’s the closest he can get to an I love you without breaking any legal documents. “I know you don’t need me to, but I’ll always take care of you.”
Eddie takes Buck’s face, cradles it in his sticky palm and kisses him. Deep and long, giving Buck the taste of his own spend, who laps at it happily the second he gets his tongue inside Eddie’s mouth. They kiss until they’re panting again, and only stop when both their legs threaten to give out underneath them.
They break apart completely and exit the stall. They stand at separate mirrors and clean themselves up as much as possible. The second they step foot out the door they’ll be made. Eddie can only hope there’s no one waiting on the other side to arrest them on public indecency.
That’ll be awkward to explain to his legal team. His attorney would slap him upside the head before he got through the whole story, and she won’t care at all that he sucked cock for therapeutic reasons.
“You're sitting on my face next time,” Eddie suggests as if they’re casually discussing dinner reservations or a new shirt. There will be a next time. Life or death, he'll ensure it. “Gotta give me the full experience.”
Eddie can picture it now - propped up on a pillow and eating until his goddamn jaw gives out and Buck, beautiful, sexy, two-fifty pounds of glorious muscle on top of him, legs spread and begging. It's what Heaven on Earth would be, his dick throbs alongside the fantasy that will soon be a reality or he truthfully might pass away.
He presses himself up behind Buck and runs his hands down the front of him, stopping to squeeze his oversensitive cock through his slacks. Buck jumps and moans, squirming beautifully in his arms. It's twitching back to life already under his hands, and God bless whoever gave Buck a nonexistent refractory period in his thirties. It's an actual miracle.
Holding him like this, Eddie can see the gleam of the gold chain sitting idle on Buck's sweaty chest, and it makes him grin into the back of his baby’s neck and kiss the heated skin, lips getting caught on the short scratchy hairs.
“I’d suffocate you to death,” Buck says petulantly.
When their eyes meet in the mirror Eddie gives him a determined salute, just silly enough to get a giggle out of his baby. “What a way to go.”
“You freak,” Buck berates, faux scandalized even as he flushes red again. He slides his arms over Eddie’s and links their fingers together over his belly. “Take me home?”
How can Eddie say no to a request like that?
After all, what his baby wants, his baby gets.