Chapter Text
Baby, though I’ve closed my eyes
I know who you pretend I am
I know who you pretend I am
“Washing Machine Heart”
Mitski
After Chris leaves, people treat him like a grieving father. Which, maybe he is, and on some level he’s grateful for the mutual agreement to not leave him to his thoughts in that awful, awful empty house. But God is it a lot. He remembers this treatment after he got shot, but this is different. Eddie deserves this pain. This is because of his own fuck-ups.
And it’s not like he’s going to do anything drastic, he’s not—he had his meltdown, a few years ago, and he’s not like that any more. He’s better.
He texts Kim at one in the morning on a Tuesday—late at night being the only time he can get away from his fucking babysitters. It’s two weeks and some change after Chris leaves, not that Eddie’s counting.
(He counts every miserable second. Buck is off at Tommy’s, he’s alone, he’s so alone, and if he doesn’t talk to a human person in the next two minutes he’s going to—)
Eddie: Hey. You up?
Buck would choke himself laughing.
Kim calls him. He answers. “That was corny as fuck, Eddie.”
“Sorry,” Eddie huffs a laugh, “House is empty tonight. Couldn’t sleep.”
“Do you want something?” Kim asks, faux-annoyed.
“Maybe,” Eddie deflects, shimmying a little further into his covers, hand slipping under the waistband of his sweats.
“Do you want someone?” Kim suggests. God, does he. Eddie wants everyone he can’t have. He wants his son, he wants his best friend, he wants his dead fuckin’ wife, he wants his mom.
Kim is offering one of them. “I always want Shannon,” Eddie confesses, and despite how bare and empty his house is, he’s worried someone might hear.
“Tell me what you used to do together,” Kim suggests.
“We used to,” Eddie swallows against a lump in his throat, somewhere between guilt and grief and flickering arousal, “She used to want me to. Uh.”
“Come on, Eddie, tell me what you want,” Kim says breathily, “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
“Can you sit on my face?” Eddie asks, the old sensation phantom against his lips, his jaw. The way Shannon’s thighs would frame his face, soft skin against his ears, muffling everything. It was sensory deprivation, the world narrowing down to Shannon’s cunt on his lips, clit jumping against his tongue.
“What, like, now?” Kim laughs.
“It’s not like there’s anything stopping us,” Eddie says, “Marisol blocked me on everything after—well, you were there.”
Kim clicks her tongue at him. “Eddie, do me a favor. Don’t mention her ever again.”
“Done,” Eddie says easily, “Come over?”
“Oh, I’ll come,” Kim says suggestively, “I’m fifteen minutes away. I remember how to get there.”
“Thanks—” Eddie says, but Kim’s already hung up.
Thirteen minutes later, there’s a knock at the door. Eddie answers, and there she is—in the moonlight, she looks just like her. She steps into the dark of Eddie’s house and smiles up at him.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” she says, leaning up on her toes to kiss his cheek. Her hands skate over the bare skin of his chest, and Eddie’s fall to her waist, squeezing lightly.
“Kim—”
“I’m sorry, who is that?” Kim asks, with a sly little tilt of her head.
Oh. “Shannon,” Eddie corrects, something aching and roiling in his gut. This is wrong. This is so wrong.
“Much better,” Kim says, pressing another kiss to the bolt of his jaw. It’s not like the way Shannon used to kiss him, but it’s—it’s close enough. Eddie aches.
Eddie finds himself cupping the side of Kim’s face, backing her into the door, bending down to swallow her gasping moan.
“Still so good at this, fuck,” Kim says, tilting her head so Eddie can suck a mark into her neck. Nearly trembling with it, Eddie coaxes her legs around his waist. She goes willingly, hopping up into his arms.
When they pull back, she’s breathing heavy against his face, eyes blown and smile wide, ankles locked around the small of his back. This is what Shannon looked like, when they were young, when they were kids fooling around.
“You wanted something from me?” Kim grins wickedly, and the illusion is broken. Shannon would have smiled, coy, and whispered something about seeing what his mouth could do.
Eddie doesn’t mention it. “Bedroom?”
“Carry me,” Kim suggests, and she’s not as thin as Shannon was, but she’s still an easy weight for Eddie to take. He sets her down gently on his bed, breath catching as she takes off her shirt.
The freckles on her chest are wrong. Her breasts are fuller, her nipples are pinker, she has an innie belly button. Eddie needs her like a sick man needs antibiotics. He drops to his knees between her legs, looking up at her, hands sliding up the her sides.
“You’re so pretty like this, on your knees,” Kim purrs, “Get my shorts off.”
Kim’s wearing mint green, silk sleep shorts. They slide off easily, and so does her underwear, leaving her bared for him to see. He knows it’s fucked up to compare her to Shannon, but how can he not, when she’s so close, almost her, almost, almost, almost—
Eddie leans forward for the first sticky taste of her. She smells exactly like Shannon used to, or maybe it’s just sex that always smells the same. Her fingers tug his hair, guiding him in, until his face is pressed up between her legs, her knees hooking over his shoulders.
She’s wet. His tongue slides, slick and filthy, up through her lips. He presses the flat of his tongue to her clit, teasing, and looks up at her through his eyelashes. Her head is tipped back, mouth dropped open.
“I believe I was promised something,” Eddie rasps.
“You already sound ruined,” Kim says, delighted. Regardless, she moves, giving Eddie room to clamber up beside her and lay on his back, feet dangling off the edge of the mattress. Kim straddles his neck, sitting back a little on his chest. She looks down at him, powerful, and in the dim light filtering in from the street, she could almost be her. Almost.
Kim, having had her fill of looking, shifts forward and positions herself over Eddie’s chin, and Eddie can’t stop himself from grabbing her hips, encouraging her to sit, and it’s—
It’s not exactly like how he remembers, but it’s close enough. Her vulva is different, her clit has more of a hood than Shannon’s, she doesn’t have the same moles on the inside of her thighs. But it’s the same pressure, the same feeling of skin clamped over his ears, drowning out every awful thought Eddie could possibly conjure up about this situation.
“Oh my God, Eddie,” Kim gasps as Eddie finally sucks on her clit. Her hips hitch almost subconsciously, and Eddie preens. He loses himself in the motion, following Kim as she squirms on his tongue. It’s a blissful eternity and no time at all when he feels her begin to tremble, closing in on release. She doesn’t say his name as she comes. In fact, she doesn’t say anything, just grips Eddie’s hair between her fingers and makes a choked-out little noise in the back of her throat.
Kim takes a big gulping gasp of air when she recovers, and swings her leg back over Eddie’s chest, leaving him laying on the bed with a satisfied grin.
“God, that was amazing,” Kim laughs, stretching up towards the ceiling, hands clasped together, “You want to fuck me, now?”
“Desperately,” Eddie breathes, well-aware of how achingly hard his dick is.
“Well, come get it,” Kim says, falling back towards the headboard. Eddie scrambles to kick off his sweats and clambers over to Kim, looming over her.
“What did I used to be like?” Kim asks, spreading her legs to accommodate Eddie.
Eddie reaches a hand down to feel just how soaked Kim is, his fingers slipping in easily to stretch her. “You used to be fun,” Eddie confesses, “We used to laugh. Uh. While we fucked. You used to boss me around, but it would be—I don’t know, sweet, somehow?”
“Move your fingers, baby,” Kim says, squirming until Eddie obliges, “That’s so good. I want you to say my name while you fuck me.”
“Yeah,” Eddie pants, and somehow the ache in his throat fails to stifle how utterly, incomprehensibly horny he is, “Yeah. Yeah, K—Shannon.”
“That’s right,” Kim moans, “Oh, fuck, your fingers feel so good. I bet that cock will feel even better.”
“Don’t have condoms,” Eddie worries.
“Had the tubes clipped a long time ago,” Kim says, with a click of her tongue, a scissor motion with her fingers, and a wink. “You’re good to go, cowboy.”
“You always used to call me that,” Eddie says, feeling some horrible prick of tears at the back of his eyes, and he will not cry during sex, no thank you. Especially not over a stupid joke nickname Shannon called him in high school when she found out he was in 4H.
“I’d never say no to getting lassoed,” Kim jokes, “Quit stalling, Eddie. Fuck me like you mean it.”
Eddie takes his fingers out, wiping them on the sheets, and lines himself up. Kim’s legs wrap around his waist, encouraging him closer, until he’s sinking into her. It feels like homecoming, like cheap drinks and the bed of Eddie’s truck and fireworks. He has to bury his face in the crook of Kim’s neck, either to stave off tears or an orgasm, or maybe both.
Kim sighs happily, fingers digging into Eddie’s shoulders. “Move, Eddie.”
Eddie does, rocking his hips into her, unable to do anything but obey. “Please, please—Shannon.”
“It’s okay,” Kim assures him, petting his hair, holding his face to her skin, “Let go, Eddie. I want you to let go for me.”
And Eddie does. It’s been so long since he’s had this, since he’s been connected so deeply and intimately to someone else. It feels like he’s sinking down somewhere, deep in his head, cloudy and away from all of the mistakes he’s made and is currently making.
Kim moans and throws her head back, bangs falling out of her face. Eddie surges forward and kisses down the side of her neck, biting tenderly at a collarbone. He gets a delighted gasp for his efforts.
Kim’s legs encircle his hips, and she rocks with him, slow but no less intense for it. Eddie fucks her long, and deep. He lowers himself down onto one elbow so he can hold himself up, bring his free hand in to play with her tits. He brushes a thumb over one hard nipple, pinches and soothes just to hear Kim squeal.
“Eddie, get me off,” Kim demands, “Quit playing around and touch my clit.”
Laughing, Eddie sits up and back on his heels. He takes care not to change or slow his thrusts, just keeps the same easy, almost-loving rhythm. He brings a hand down and dips his thumb between her lips. Finding her clit feels right, feels good, feels a little like coming home.
“Yeah, like that, just like that,” Kim pants, hips twitching as she gets closer, “Say my name, Eddie.”
“Shannon,” Eddie obliges, instantly, like he’s trained. “Shannon, you look so good for me, please, please, oh—”
Kim’s fingers twist in the bedsheets, the same way they twisted in Eddie’s hair. She shakes apart beneath him, this time with a low moan, and the pulse of her cunt around him means he follows just as obediently as a dog.
His orgasm hits him like something insidious. Like the way his priest always used to describe temptation. It’s the best thing he’s felt in a long time. He feels sick. Loneliness and grief and self-loathing and toe-curling pleasure all curl up together in the pit of his stomach. He empties himself into Kim and wishes she were someone else. Wishes she didn’t look like Shannon. Wishes he could have this with someone who isn’t her, or like her.
“Alright, big guy?” Kim asks, after a minute. Eddie snaps back to his body and pulls away, hoping the roiling feeling in his stomach can be contained for just thirty more seconds.
“Yeah,” Eddie says, “I think you should go home.”
“Works for me,” Kim shrugs, kneeling up and leaning forward to kiss Eddie on the cheek. “I had a great time tonight, stud. Call me for round two any day.”
Eddie’s throat clicks around the lump that sits there. He goes through the motions with Kim, throwing on his sweatpants while she pulls on her pajamas.
Somehow, by iron will and the grace of God, Eddie manages a real goodbye to Kim at the door. She leaves, and the house is just as empty as it was before.
Eddie cries on the couch for hours.
Eventually, though, he has to pick himself up. He very, very firmly tells himself that it cannot happen again.
The next day, Buck sends him a selfie of him and Tommy. They’ve started taking morning hikes, bringing along shelter dogs so they can get some activity in and Buck can pretend like he doesn’t desperately want a pet. This time, it seems like they’ve brought a little mini Australian Shepherd, one who’s curled up and taking a nap against Tommy’s giant, beefy shoulders. Buck is grinning, Tommy looks somewhere between exasperated and deeply, helplessly in love as he stares at the back of Buck’s head. Behind them, the sunrise is golden and pink and beautiful.
“Do you have to be Shannon? I don’t think I can do that kind of emotion twice in a row.”
“Baby, I’m an actress. I can be whoever you want me to be.”
“What if I want you to pick?”
“I can do that, too.”
It keeps happening. Once he’s started, Eddie can’t stop.
A picture on Tommy’s Instagram of Buck’s naked back, artfully framed with rumpled sheets, glowing golden in the pale morning light. Kim, in a police uniform, more utilitarian than one would expect from kink gear. Eddie’s hands, locked behind his back with handcuffs while she rides him.
A text from Buck apologizing profusely for ignoring Eddie’s text for over an hour, saying that he’d be on his way as soon as he finished showering at Tommy’s. Kim, in a pantsuit and glasses, sitting in her home office and glaring at him from across the desk. Eddie, on his knees, pleading forgiveness with his head up her skirt.
Buck’s voice, raspy and fucked out when he meets Eddie for an afternoon hike. Kim, in army fatigues, barking orders at Eddie like he’s back as basic. Eddie wearing his dog tags for the first time in years.
Tommy flaking on Muay Thai, saying he pulled a muscle in his back and refusing to disclose how it happened. Kim, with a lab coat and latex gloves, rumbling about procedure as her slick fingers jerk him off, somehow clinical despite the circumstances.
Buck, loving and being loved. Tommy, who loves him right. Kim, a different person every time, but always sexy and real, flesh and blood beneath Eddie’s fingers, soft thighs dimpling where his hands clutch as he eats her out, lips moving against his when they kiss, fingers expertly twisting over his cock as she milks him dry.
He cums harder than he has since before deployment. It’s only a matter of time before it all comes crashing down around him.
“Hey, baby,” Kim winks, hauling her duffel bag over her shoulder as she walks past Eddie, hips swaying in the dim light of the house. “I figured out what we’re going to do tonight.”
“Which is?” Eddie asks, trying to hide how eager he is.
“I know about Buck,” Kim says, “He’s the one I met at the firehouse, right? Tall, birthmark, looks like he could fold me in half with his pinky?”
“Uh. Yeah, that’s him,” Eddie replies, completely baffled.
Kim approaches like a lion stalking her prey. She leans up to coax Eddie down so she can whisper in his ear. “I know you want him.”
Eddie’s brain goes completely blank. His genuine first thought is no I don’t. His second thought is well, I’ve been wrong before. “Kim. You didn’t call my best friend and ask for a threesome, did you?”
“Of course not,” Kim huffs, “I told you, I’m an actress. I just haven’t been given the opportunity to play my full range yet.”
“So… you want to impersonate my best friend while I fuck you?” Eddie surmises.
“No,” Kim says, rolling her eyes, “I want to impersonate your best friend while I fuck you.”
Eddie blinks. “What?”
“Pegging, Eddie,” Kim explains, like she’s talking to a small child, “I’ve got a dildo in my bag. I want to fuck you in the ass until you cum. Sound like fun?”
“Uh—” Eddie stammers, torn between his dick, which is very interested, and his brain, which is screaming that some things, once taken out of boxes, can never be put back in. In the end, his dick wins out. “Yes. Yes, please.”
“Knew it,” Kim grins, patting him on the cheek, “Alright. Do me a favor—get showered and put this on after.”
She digs around in her bag and pulls out a soft black blindfold. Eddie raises an eyebrow at her.
“Shower thoroughly.”
Ten minutes and a lot of soap later, Eddie is sitting on his bed, holding the blindfold in his hands. He slips it on, taking a deep breath—in through the nose, out through the mouth.
Some time later, the door clicks open and feet lightly walk across the hardwood. “Good boy, Eddie. Can you see anything?”
“No,” Eddie confirms. Kim’s hands trail, feather-light, over his arms.
“Perfect,” she says, coaxing his hands up above his head. “Lay back for me.”
Eddie does.
“Good,” Kim praises, and then Eddie hears the click of handcuffs. They’re not police-issued, they have soft leather padding on the inside to keep them from really fucking up his wrists if he pulls to hard. Eddie lets Kim guide his hands up to the slats in his headboard, lets her cuff him there.
“This friend of yours,” Kim says as she affixes the cuffs to his hands, “What’s so hot about him? Tell me.”
“I mean, you’ve seen him—” Eddie starts, and gets a mean smack to the outside of his thigh for it. He doesn’t react beyond flinching, but it ricochets through his entire body.
“Don’t be smart with me tonight, Eddie,” Kim says, condescension dripping from her tongue. It makes Eddie’s head thrum with arousal. “Be a good boy. No mouthing off or I’ll leave you here, just like this, and I’ll actually call him to come get you, okay?”
He can’t help but imagine it—Buck, rushing in, worried Eddie’s been hurt. Finding him here, exposed. It’s mortifying. It’s so hot. Eddie can’t help the needy little gasp that falls from his lips. “Jesus, okay. Yeah, yeah, sorry.”
“Well, at least you had the good sense to apologize,” Kim sighs, moving until she settles between Eddie’s legs. “I’ll ask again. What do you like about Buck?”
“He’s—” Eddie sucks in a breath, wracking his brain for answers that are somehow right on the tip of his tongue and also locked in the darkest recesses of his mind. “He’s tall.”
“Mm, he is,” Kim says agreeably, and Eddie can hear the click of a lube bottle. “What else?”
“He’s—his eyes are so blue,” Eddie croaks, and even picturing Buck smiling at him is getting him so hard it hurts, “He’s so kind. He loves with everything in his entire body. He’s like if a golden retriever got turned into a person. He’s confident, and does his job so well, and he could easily bench press me.”
“He sounds dreamy,” Kim says, and then Eddie feels a slim finger rubbing at his asshole. It’s a bit strange, but not entirely unwelcome, and Eddie lets himself relax as Kim just sits there, circling his rim. “Tell me what you want him to do to you.”
Everything, Eddie thinks, take me out to dinner, take me on long walks on the beach, kiss me slow on a rainy morning, show me what it feels like to be loved by Evan Buckley. What he says instead, is: “Fuck me.”
Entirely reductive. Eddie wants Buck in every position, on every surface, indoors, outdoors, in private and in public, any time of day, so on and so forth.
Regardless, Kim slips a finger into him, just up to the knuckle, a gentle tease. “This your first time having something in your ass? You’re tense.”
“You’ve been a lot of firsts for me,” Eddie confesses.
Kim hums, pleased. “I like showing people something new. Just relax, Eddie. Think about how your Buck would do this—tell me. In your dreams, what’s he like?”
A thousand fantasies flood Eddie’s mind, as if from a burst dam. He could be gentle, he could be sweet, and tender, and loving. He could bend Eddie over the back of his couch and pull his hair and fuck him until he can’t walk straight. It’s all so good, so delicious, and Eddie wonders how he never realized before just how hot sex with Buck would be. “I want him to hold me down,” Eddie blurts, “I want him to take what he wants.”
Eddie can hear Kim’s smile in her voice. “Good boy,” she says, sliding her finger in all the way. It’s an interesting sensation, this time more pleasant than not. She pulls out to the tip, and this time Eddie can feel two fingers pressing at his rim, slowly pushing all the way in again.
“Oh,” Eddie gasps, because it feels good. He feels satisfied, oddly, and the sensation of his hole being stretched becomes a lot more delicious, compounding with the feeling of Kim inside him.
“Yeah, I knew you’d like this,” Kim murmurs, adding more lube to her fingers as she works him open. “Buck’s got some thick fingers. He’d have to be a lot more careful not to hurt you.”
The thought is electric. “Yeah, yeah,” Eddie pants, hands clenching and unclenching on open air.
Kim’s ring finger joins the first two, and Eddie keens at the extra burn. “I bet his cock is big, too. Big hands, big shoes, tall. It’s going to fill you so well, Eddie.”
Eddie moans. Loud. The blindfold isn’t helping him avoid the crystal clear image of Buck looming over him, forearm muscles flexing while he fingers him just like Kim is doing now.
Another finger prods at his hole, and Eddie lets out an embarrassing whine. “How—how many fingers are you going to use?”
“Enough that you’re stretched,” Kim says, “I brought a cock I thought was proportionate. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Eddie will never admit to the noise he makes. Kim fucks him on four of her fingers, curling them up with each stroke, and Eddie wonders what she’s going after, until suddenly—
“Jesus!” Eddie yelps, thrashing against his binds. It’s a shock of pleasure, like he’s been fucking shot. The chains on the handcuffs rattle but don’t give, and Eddie refuses to acknowledge how hot that is.
“There it is,” Kim says, “Never had someone touch your prostate while you’re turned on, have you?”
“Obviously not,” Eddie snarks, regretting it when Kim withdraws her fingers all the way, leaving him empty and wanting. “Sorry!”
“You will be,” Kim says, and the lube cap clicks again, and Kim is doing something, but it doesn’t register until Eddie feels the blunt pressure of something pressing up against his rim.
“Oh, God,” Eddie croaks.
“Beg for it,” Kim demands, “Beg for his cock.”
“Please, oh, please, can I have Buck’s cock?” Eddie asks, having lost all his dignity several weeks ago with a single hug, “Please fuck me on Buck’s dick, I want to feel it, I know it’s going to be so good, I need it, I need—”
“I know,” Kim says, “I know, Eddie. You just need it so bad, and I’m going to give it to you, okay? I need you to relax and let me in. It might be uncomfortable at first, but you need to relax.”
Eddie nods, desperate, and Kim presses in, the head of her strap slipping past Eddie’s rim.
It’s a lot. He’s panting and gritting his teeth against the stretch, trying to will himself to relax his muscles.
“Shh,” Kim soothes, “It’s okay. You’re okay, you can take it. You can take Buck’s cock, can’t you? You’re made for it.”
It soothes something in Eddie’s core to think that—maybe, yeah, he is made for Buck. He could be made for this, for making Buck feel good, and he wouldn’t hurt anyone ever again. He could be a pretty little fucktoy, and his son and his family and his friends and his ex-girlfriends would never be afraid, or worried, or angry, or sad when they thought about him. He relaxes, and Kim fucks into him another inch, and it fills him so beautifully he could cry.
“Oh, look at that,” Kim coos, “You’re taking his cock so well. Bet he would let you sit on it all the time, until you just let him in whenever he wanted.”
“God, yes,” Eddie moans, “Fuck—fuck me.”
“Be patient,” Kim chides, “He wouldn’t want to hurt you.”
Eddie wants him to. Eddie likes when it hurts, a little. But the thought of Buck treating him with tenderness is also… nice. Makes him a little fuzzy. Makes his chest ache when he remembers that this is just a fantasy.
Kim, for the most part, doesn’t touch him as she continues to slowly sink into him. “How do you think he’s like to fuck you the most? Do you think he’d take you from behind? Or in missionary, so he could look into your eyes?”
“I want him—I want him to look into my eyes,” Eddie says, humiliated when his voice comes out thick.
To his horror, Kim pauses. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie assures, although it’s not very convincing, given the way his chest shudders. “Not hurt. Just overwhelming.”
There’s a beat, then he feels Kim shift again, pushing in another half inch. “Buck’s dick so good you’re crying on it? That’s okay, Eddie. Let it out, just let it happen.”
Eddie wants to turn away, wants to hide, but he can’t—not here, with his wrists chained to the headboard, and his eyes covered. He thinks Buck would touch me, but Kim’s hands are small, and cold, and Buck’s are huge and warm. It would ruin this headspace, where the silicone in his ass could actually be Buck.
He doesn’t notice how deep Kim is until soft skin and leather straps meet his thighs. “You did it!” she says, like someone celebrating a kid brushing their teeth by themselves for the first time, “Oh, look at you, so good at taking Buck’s cock.”
Eddie feels nearly-complete. It’s the same kind of guilt-shame-heat that he felt when Kim was Shannon, the first time they fucked. He’s full, and his dick is leaking all over his abs, and his ass is already starting to get sore, like he’s working muscles he’s never used before. “Please move,” Eddie begs, because he needs to come.
“I think he’d give you exactly what you want,” Kim muses as she begins to rock her hips, the tip of her strap grinding against Eddie’s prostate with each roll, “I think he’d love taking you apart, don’t you? He seems like such a giver.”
Eddie’s reduced to mindless rabble, noise falling from his mouth as Kim picks up her pace a little. With surprising strength, she grabs under his knees and lifts his legs up towards his shoulders, folding him in half and finding an angle that hits his prostate with enough force to punch a strangled groan out of him.
“Oh, I was wondering if you’d be able to come untouched,” Kim pants, her hips fucking into Eddie relentlessly, “But I think you can for Buck, don’t you?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Eddie babbles, realizing with a start that he’s close, “Fuck—fuck, don’t stop, please—”
“God, you’re such a slut for him,” Kim laughs breathily, “Tell him thank you when you come. I want to hear it. I want to hear you so fucking needy for him, he’s not even here and you’re still gagging for it, I should call him, should let him hear you scream his name, should—”
“Thank you!” Eddie shouts, as his orgasm hits, sharp and fast and not unlike the smack of water after falling three stories down from a ferris wheel. “Buck! Buck, thank you, thank you, thank you—”
Eddie shakes, and whines, and the cock is still in him, still moving, but it’s buried to the hilt, and it’s like—
“God, you’re such a fucking vision,” Kim says, “Gonna get myself off now.”
Kim continues to grind against her end of the strap, pushing it so deep into Eddie he can feel it in his throat. The aftershocks of his orgasm feel like touching an electric fence, and he barely hears the little breathy noises Kim is making as she uses him like a toy for her own pleasure. Eventually, she stills, in the way that she does when she orgasms, and Eddie can hear the predictable rhythm of gasp-breathe-relax.
Slowly, his legs are lowered down, and the cock is pulled out of him. He bites back a whimper when it slips from his ass, leaving him feeling slimy and a little sore.
“Sorry,” Kim apologizes, surprisingly gentle. Eddie can hear the sound of something being undone, and then a thump as something lands on his bed. The shuffle of knees, the click of the release on the cuffs.
“Gonna take off the blindfold,” Kim murmurs, before Eddie feels her fingers on the sides of his face. The world screams into color again, and Eddie becomes aware of the fact that he is sobbing. Heaving desperate, wretched sobs, actually. In front of Kim, his very emotionally unavailable fuckbuddy, who looks deeply uncomfortable.
“Oh, Jesus,” Kim says, mildly horrified, “Eddie, I’m—”
“Please go,” Eddie begs, wanting nothing more than to lick his wounds in private. He’s mortified, naked on his own bed, sticky between his legs, and reeling from an epiphany he would have preferred to have never had. He’s attracted to Buck. He wants Buck. He wants to be Buck’s something, boyfriend or partner or husband. And he can never have it.
“Okay,” Kim says delicately, picking up her things and packing up. She doesn’t try to talk to Eddie again, or touch him, thank God.
On her way out of his bedroom, she pauses. “I know—after the first time, before we had sex. You probably don’t want to hear my advice any more. But if I can be honest for one second, I really think you should talk to him. I had a good time, Eddie.”
And with that, she’s gone, leaving Eddie gaping and open and buried under a flood of newly recognized desire.