Archive of Our Own

Eddie frowns down at his phone until someone honks behind him. He grimaces and tosses it to the—empty—passenger seat. Because he and Buck aren’t carpooling to work today. And Buck’s location has been off for twenty-seven hours.

He responds to Eddie’s texts like normal, though he dodges any that have to do with the missing location, so Eddie’s not freaking out too much. But it’s only been a few weeks since New Mexico. Eddie’s still got a few bruises left, and Buck—something is off with him, and just like after Bobby, he won’t talk about it. And now he’s turned his location off, and he declined Eddie’s offer to drive them to work, and Eddie is trying his best to be normal about it. He’s allowed to be worried, though.

It’s only worsened by a realization he had while carving his way through the New Mexico desert, found in the rhythm of a horse’s hooves on pavement and the shake of the car he’d overpaid for because he couldn’t stand another second to not be heading towards Buck. Eddie’s in love with him.

Knowing it, alone and directionless, was awful. It felt like a cruel joke, to finally understand something so—important. So wholly consuming. And to not even be able to look at Buck and think, yeah, I love him, had destroyed Eddie, until the moment he’d seen him alive. He hadn’t realized how close he’d come to losing himself to his alpha until he had a hand on Buck’s pulse.

Eddie, in the weeks since then, knows he’s gotten a little clingy. He hasn’t told Buck anything—he’s not sure who to ask how long after an incredibly traumatic event it becomes appropriate to confess your feelings, because it’s the kind of question he would ask his best friend, who just so happens to be the person those feelings are about—but he keeps the knowledge of it tucked into the corner of his mouth, balanced on the edge of his fingertips.

And he checks Buck’s location a lot. Chris doesn’t even give him shit for it.

He’s a little miserable about driving to work alone, and a lot grumpy about having to hold all his worry for Buck in, when he pulls into the station lot. Buck’s truck is already parked, and he feels his shoulders relax at the sight of it, even if he kind of wants to slash the tires. Car-related incidents probably aren’t a great idea right now.

The firehouse is bustling with the shift change. Eddie feels like the world is moving without him, until, finally, he sees Buck. Standing in the locker room like nothing is wrong, chatting to someone from C-shift. Eddie takes a deep breath, and tells himself to be normal.

“Buck,” he calls, and his voice comes out too loud. The person from C-shift jumps, and Eddie isn’t looking at them anymore because Buck has turned his head away from them and to Eddie, and there’s a slightly bashful look on his face like a dog who knows it’s done something wrong. “Good to see you’re alive.” They both wince at that, and Eddie makes himself take another breath.

Buck is fine. He’s standing in front of him. The scratches and bruises on his face are only memories. Eddie loves him—just thinking it centers him, and he offers Buck a slightly apologetic smile.

“Nice to see you too,” Buck says, belatedly. He bumps Eddie’s shoulder when he steps in right beside him to open his locker and shove his bag in, and hardly moves far enough to give Eddie the space to change his shirt and slap some scent blockers on. “Location is back on, by the way.”

“I don’t need it now,” Eddie grumbles. “I can see you.”

Despite his words, he does relax further. Nowhere near pre-New Mexico levels, not yet, but maybe if he follows Buck around the firehouse like there’s a leash between them, he’ll get there.

“I’m sorry,” Buck offers. “It’s…” Eddie fully turns to face him when he trails off, and finds Buck shuffling his feet, looking awkward. “I’ll tell you when I tell everyone else.”

Ouch, Eddie thinks. He tries not to catastrophize. What’s the worst-case scenario—Buck was on a date? Maybe he thinks Eddie will judge him for going out so soon after everything. He wouldn’t, for the record. They’d both been told that the best way to heal was to let normalcy come back in, and he knows that for Buck, dating is a way of doing that.

Eddie’s always been a little jealous of Buck’s ability to casually date, though now that he knows how he feels about him, it’s probably more due to wanting to be in the place of Buck’s dates, than being jealous of Buck himself. For a while, he’d wondered if it was because he was an alpha—if his brain wanted him to find the one right away and settle down, which hadn’t quite worked out for Eddie the first time. Buck, as a beta, might not have the same instincts.

Another thing Eddie’s been feeling guilty about lately—the small part of him that’s glad Buck’s a beta. He can’t sniff out Eddie’s feelings for him, and Eddie doesn’t have to be reminded that Buck feels nothing for him.

When Buck turns to leave the locker room, Eddie shuts his locker and trots after him. It would be too much, probably, to grab Buck’s wrist or hand, so he makes do with catching up and walking side by side with him, even up the narrow stairs. Their shoulders brush, and Eddie cherishes each and every touch.

They find the rest of the team working their way through a breakfast of bagels and yesterday’s leftovers. Cold pizza, Eddie will always argue, is a completely valid breakfast food, and he grabs himself a slice while Buck spreads cream cheese on a bagel, nervously. Eddie’s never seen someone be nervous about dressing a bagel, but that’s definitely what happens. Buck’s hands shake minutely, and the cream cheese ends up lumpy. Normally, Eddie’d take it from him and smooth it out, but he feels like he should be giving Buck a little space.

Until, with a little huff, Buck passes him the knife and lumpy bagel with a pleading look. Eddie takes up the task immediately, making sure to get the right ratio. The small smile Buck shoots him when he hands it back makes Eddie’s stomach feel fluttery, and he hopes his blush isn’t too awfully obvious.

Buck clears his throat and then takes a bite of the bagel. It takes a moment, but slowly all the eyes in the loft come to rest on him. Eddie stays at his side, not sure if he should offer a reassuring shoulder bump or cross his arms like Buck’s bodyguard.

“So,” Buck says. Hen’s eyebrows knit together in concern at the tone of his voice. Chim freezes with a slice of pizza upside down and halfway to his mouth. “I… went to the doctor yesterday.”

That’s why he had his location off? Eddie feels queasy. He and Buck had gone to all their checkups together, not just since New Mexico—since always.

“And since you guys are, you know, my team,” Buck pauses and ducks his head. “And family. I thought I should- tell you. Something.”

Ravi is leaning over the counter like the suspense is a physical thing, hooking him in and pulling. Eddie has to take more deep breaths.

“I’m, uh, presenting.” Buck shoves a giant bite of bagel in his mouth. It gets so silent in the firehouse that you could hear a pin drop.

The thing is, it makes sense—when Eddie had first come to the 118 he, like many others, had assumed that Buck was an alpha. He had the build for it, and the way he’d tried to chase Eddie off certainly hadn’t helped. Traumatic events can cause late presentations. They’d been on a few calls where that very thing had happened.

Eddie lays a hand on Buck’s shoulder. He’s already thinking of all the ways he can help—advice for ruts and the best scent patches, workouts that ease tension. “Better hope your rut doesn’t sync up with mine or Hen’s,” he jokes, trying a little desperately to lighten the mood. Buck still looks like he’s afraid the ceiling is going to collapse down on them. “Making the life of our beta captain real difficult.”

Buck flinches under his touch. At first, Eddie thinks it’s the reminder that Chim is captain—Bobby was an omega.

And then Buck turns, and his face is—pinched. “Not as an alpha,” he says, voice so low Eddie almost doesn’t hear him.

Not an alpha. It’s almost a doubling of their first day on the job—Eddie’d said to Chim, does this guy always think with his knot? And Chim’d laughed and said, you’d think, right? He doesn’t even have one. Buckley’s not an alpha. Beta through and through, He’s just like this. You’ll come to love him, though. Worms his way into your heart.

Chimney groans theatrically. “Still leaves me juggling three government-mandated leaves. Buck, please tell me you’ve told your sister.”

Buck huffs, and he won’t meet Eddie’s eyes, but he says, “Obviously. Didn’t even leave the parking lot without calling her.”

That’s good, Eddie thinks distantly. Maddie’s an omega. It’s good that Buck has that. Her. He doesn’t have Bobby, to advise him on how to work with alphas who won’t respect him as an omega firefighter.

Hen starts questioning Buck gently on his symptoms, and Buck’s responses get calmer with every moment, and Eddie really should be listening—he wants to know everything—but he feels a pit growing in his stomach, a core of worry that makes him lean heavily against the counter.

What if he only thinks he has feelings for Buck because he presented? Is he sure that they started while he was away from him, or was it the moment that he knelt over Buck and breathed him in, his scent probably already changing?

“Did they say anything about when your first heat might be?” Hen asks. She looks like she wants a pad of paper to write Buck’s answers on.

Buck flushes. “They want me to induce one soon. Probably- whenever I can get a week off?”

“Two weeks,” Chimney says authoritatively. “And whenever you need. I’m going to fire you on the basis of pro-omega discrimination if you won’t let me give you the time off.”

Buck laughs at that. Eddie’s hand is still on his shoulder, and he feels the laugh. It’s a little like feeling Buck’s pulse; a sign of life. A sign of a life well lived.

And then Buck groans, and Eddie feels that too. “And I have to find an alpha to spend it with. You think Tommy would-”

A unified no, from everyone around the counter. Eddie’s comes out a little sharp, but he doesn’t think anyone notices. He takes his hand off Buck—wishes he could put it back immediately—and tries to focus on eating his cold pizza.

“Guys,” Buck says. “Where the hell am I going to find an alpha willing to stay with me for a first heat? I don’t even- there’s no way of knowing if it’ll be the kind of heat where I, you know-” He’s really blushing now. Eddie’s pizza tastes like ash in his mouth. “Want to be, uh, knotted. Platonic heats are a thing.”

“Did you tell the doctor this?” Hen asks. She looks a little skeptical of the whole premise.

“Yes,” Buck grumbles. “She said I’d need an alpha anyway. Hormone- pheromone- whatever regulation.”

“What a conundrum,” Chim says. “Wherever will you find an alpha you trust? Who wants to be around you all the time, to the point of texting my wife about why your location is turned off. It’s a real mystery.”

Eddie’s vision goes a little black at the edges, and his hearing dissolves into a shrill ringing.

Buck’s voice cuts through the noise. “Eddie?” he asks. “I- what- He wouldn’t-”

“He would,” Eddie says without thinking.

That pit in his stomach feels like it’s grown into a watermelon. They’re all going to think that he only wants to spend a heat with Buck because he’s an omega. Buck’s going to think it—he’s going to look at Eddie, and soon he’s going to be able to scent him, and there won’t be any hiding it. Eddie’s going to ruin everything.

Buck is gaping at him. Everyone else looks significantly less surprised. Eddie wants to duck under the counter and pull his knees to his chest, but then he thinks about Buck asking another alpha to do this for him. “Of course,” he says, and it comes out soft. “If you’d want me to. It would be- as friends. I’d do anything for you.”

Was that good? If Eddie was only in love with Buck because of his presentation, then surely he wouldn’t add the as friends part. He thinks about trying to seal the pact with a handshake, but that seems like it would go past the line of best friends and nothing more, into business deal, which verges back into being gross.

“As friends,” Buck says. “Right. You- you would.” He sounds sure of it, which Eddie likes. “Even if it is a- a sexual heat?”

Eddie nods. He’s trying really hard not to think the word knot.

“That’s two of you getting two weeks off,” Chim groans.

“At least it’s only once!” Buck says back, crossing his arms.

“Right,” Hen laughs. “Just the once.”

--

A week and change later and Eddie is sitting in the parking lot of a health clinic, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. Buck had said that there was no need to come in, that it’d only take a few minutes. And, to be fair, it’s hardly been five, but each one has really taken its time in ticking past.

He can’t stop thinking about how, right this moment, Buck’s heat is being induced. Eddie’d read up on it the night before; it’s usually done with an injection. They’ll keep him for a few minutes after to monitor things and then send him off—into Eddie’s care.

Since Buck told them about presenting, things have settled into a new rhythm. Or at least, the start of one. Buck hasn’t shown any observable changes yet, and apparently, that’s to be expected. The first heat is when his scent and senses will develop, and Eddie is carefully not thinking about it.

He’s also doing his best not to think about his feelings for Buck. It’s not proving to be all that successful.

There’s a tap on the window, and Eddie jolts. He looks over at the passenger window to find Buck waving, and he quickly hits the button to unlock the doors, and starts the car. “They give you any stickers?” he asks.

Buck clicks his seatbelt in, and then reaches into his jacket pocket and produces a sheet of stickers. “They did, actually.”

“Firetrucks,” Eddie laughs. “They know you well.”

“Too well,” Buck grumbles. His hand comes up to rub at his arm, where the injection must have been. “Took twice as long as it should have because they asked me all the- all the questions again. You know what to expect, right? You have a safe place to stay? You’ve got an alpha waiting for you? Yes, yes, and yes. Thanks. And those are the least invasive ones.”

Eddie bites back all the questions resting on his tongue as he pulls out of the parking lot. Luckily, Buck seems in a chatty mood.

“They said I’d be in preheat for a day or two,” he sighs. “So, you know, you don’t have to-”

Eddie cuts him off. “I’m staying with you. Got the time off anyway, don’t I?”

“I guess.”

Buck fiddles with the radio. There’s so much they need to talk about—boundaries, expectations—but Eddie doesn’t know how to start the conversation. It feels so tied into everything he’s making himself not think about. But waiting for Buck to come to him—that’s not so likely to work out.

“How’d it go with Maddie?” he tries.

Buck hums. “Pretty good, actually. She was right that it is- I don’t know, instinctive. The nest building part, at least. We went a little crazy buying all these pillows and blankets. And it was kind of nice that- there was so much to talk about. Like, she had all this advice that she never would have had a chance to tell me otherwise.”

“Oh?” Eddie says. “Like what?”

Buck rattles off the list, and Eddie can hear him relaxing. It’s mostly stuff that he would have expected—staying hydrated, collecting clothes from people Buck’s close to—but then; “And no sex in the nest,” he laughs. “She was very sure about that one.”

“What, really?” Eddie asks. “I thought that was the whole point of the nest.”

Buck tsks at him. “Typical alpha thinking.” That is a phrase he’s gotten a lot of mileage out of recently, over anything and everything. “It’s more about feeling, I don’t know, in control of something. Comfortable.”

“No alphas allowed?”

“Nope,” Buck pops his p. “I mean- yes. Alphas allowed. She said it’s, uh, nice. For cuddling.”

Eddie makes a real effort not to accidentally swerve into oncoming traffic. God, he is so not ready for this if the insinuation that he and Buck might cuddle is making his heart race. It’s a heat! They’re certainly going to be doing a lot more than that—but something about the soft, intimate moments feels more dangerous to Eddie and his tucked away feelings.

“Not that we have to do that,” Buck rushes to say. “We don’t- we should probably talk about all that, huh.”

“Once we’re at yours?” Eddie offers, though he’s not sure being able to look Buck in the eye will make the conversation any easier. Probably unsafe to have it on the road though, and they’re hardly three minutes out. “You can pull the clipboard out.”

Buck snorts. “Way ahead of you man.”

It’s not a lie—Eddie walks into Buck’s and whistles lowly at how clean it is.

“Check out the fridge,” Buck says, and Eddie slides past him to do just that. He doesn’t know if he’s ever seen a fridge so well stocked—and it’s not just with Buck’s favorites. He spots a few of his own, too, and feels way too sappy about it. “Nice, right? Took me one trip too. I mean, multiple stores and a hell of a list, but technically only one outing.”

“You don’t know how long it’ll last?” Eddie guesses.

“No clue,” Buck sighs. “Doctors’ favorite phrase is it’ll depend. Late presenting is wildly understudied.”

“Sucks.” Eddie pulls a chair out from the dining table and plops himself down. The surface is wiped clean and smooth. “So. Talking?”

“Right,” Buck says, taking the seat across from him. Eddie kicks his leg out and nudges his foot up against Buck’s. He gets a nudge back, and a tick down in the tension between them. “Well, you should start. Since, you know, you’re doing this- this thing for me.”

“It’s your heat,” Eddie says, and then realizes that doesn’t quite encompass what he’s getting at. “I mean, Buck, I’m here for you. Whatever you need, whatever you want- I’ll do it for you.”

He can feel his cheeks burning, but he holds Buck’s gaze anyway. “Eddie,” he breathes, his voice a little shaky. “You’re already doing too much- I can just-”

“If it were me,” Eddie says, cutting him off again. It’s not something he normally makes a habit of, but he needs Buck to understand. “You’d feel the same as I do, right? You’d want to do anything you could to-” make it good for me, he thinks and then shoves away. “Help,” he finishes lamely.

It’s a dangerous game, maybe, but Eddie doesn’t think he’s presuming. His perspective might be clouded by his feelings, but he knows how Buck feels about him; they’re best friends. It’s never a hardship to do anything if Buck needs, and he’s seen all the things Buck has done for him.

“That’s not fair,” Buck groans.

“What? Yes it is,” Eddie laughs, and taps his foot against Buck’s.

Something complex flickers over Buck’s gaze—it’s a little sad, a little lost. But he nods.

“So?” Eddie prompts. “What will you need?”

“Well,” Buck sighs. “That’s the problem- I don’t really know. No one can even tell me if I’m going to be begging to be knotted or if I’ll just want a lot of hugs. Kind of hard to even establish a baseline.”

“Then we assume the most extreme.” Eddie can see Buck’s eyes flickering over his face as he blushes at the word knot. “If we have sex. I know that for my ruts it’s- it’s a need thing. But,” he frowns, thinking of how every rut he’s spent with a partner has been different from ruts spent alone, how he never quite knows what he’ll need going in. “You probably can’t predict exactly what you’ll want.”

“This is stupid, and I shouldn’t ask it of you, but- can I just say that I’ll trust you? To take care of me?”

Eddie blinks. Something warm and heavy settles in his chest at how earnest Buck sounds, how he so clearly means it. That he’d trust Eddie with this scary, life-changing thing that he never asked for.

“I’d do that for you,” Eddie says softly, because there’s no world where he gives any other answer. “But you’re sure?”

Buck nods. “I am. I’ve thought about it. Asked Maddie, too, and she said the same thing as you about- about not knowing exactly what I’ll want until I’m in it. And Eddie, there’s no one I’d trust with this more than you.”

--

The first day passes with hardly any excitement. They spend most of it watching dumb reality TV, and a few hours video calling Chris. Eddie sleeps in the guest room and tries not to dwell on how he hasn’t seen Buck’s nest yet.

He wakes on the second day to the smell of Buck baking. At first, he thinks it might be Buck’s scent coming in, but then he recognizes the specific flavor of muffin that Buck makes when he’s especially stressed. He dresses quickly, and after a quick stop in the bathroom to brush his teeth, enters the kitchen to find Buck stirring an impressively large amount of batter.

“You good?” Eddie asks cautiously.

Buck jumps. “Eddie,” he says, and it sounds less like a goodmorning and more like a you scared the shit out of me. Eddie winces apologetically. “I didn’t sleep well.”

Eddie can see that. Dark circles frame Buck’s eyes, and his hair is somehow both flattened and sticking up. “And you’re baking?”

“And I’m baking.”

“Did something happen?”

“No,” Buck huffs. “That’s what’s stressing me out. Nothing has happened yet.”

“Ah,” Eddie says, eloquently. He’s still sort of blinking sleep from his eyes.

“You can’t scent me yet, right?” Buck asks, setting the bowl down and stepping closer. Eddie forces himself to stay still, though he’s not sure if he wants to retreat to get himself under control or reach forward to push Buck’s hair out of his eyes.

Eddie shakes his head dutifully. “Could just be weak, though. Don’t know if anyone would accuse me of having a very strong nose.”

“Uh, yes they would,” Buck says. “You’re always the first to point out on calls when someone is close to a cycle.”

Eddie shrugs. “Any alpha could do that.”

“Hen doesn’t.”

“Small sample size.”

“Maybe you just need to try harder,” Buck says. He holds his wrist up and shoves it in Eddie’s direction, and Eddie’s mind flashes warning signs. “Smell me.”

“You’re just going to smell like muffins,” Eddie argues weakly, but he takes Buck’s wrist and steps a little closer. “Thought that’s what I was smelling when I woke up.”

“Hah,” Buck says dryly. “Smell.”

Eddie obliges. Buck’s wrists are bare, shirt sleeves rolled up—it’ll probably be a sign that his heat is real close when he stops wearing long sleeves everywhere—and lightly dusted with flour. Eddie gently pats it off with one hand, and then uses the other to lift Buck’s wrist to his mouth.

Buck was right—his scent is there. Faint, still just developing, but clearly coming from Buck. His mouth waters, and he forces himself to drop Buck’s wrist after an already too long moment.

“It’s there,” he says, though he thinks the answer was probably obvious on his face. Buck’s eyes widen, and Eddie can see the question there. “You smell good. Like vanilla.”

“Boring.”

Eddie swats at him, but it comes out as a too-soft brush of his fingers over Buck’s chest. “A little citrus, too. And it’s not- I don’t know, bud. It’s nice. Good. Very you.”

“You’ve thought about what my scent would be?” Buck teases, and Eddie must look a little panicked, because he laughs and turns back to the batter. “All the betas do it. Wonder what our scents would be. I always thought mine’d be like, a field of wildflowers after winter rain.”

“Poetic,” Eddie says. “Are you picking up on my scent yet?” he asks, before he can think better of it.

Buck makes a show of sniffing the air, and then shakes his head. “Maybe the baking’s just getting in the way. I can try, though-?”

“No rush,” Eddie says quickly. “I’m sure it’ll come in soon.”

“I’m kind of excited,” Buck admits. Eddie settles against the counter to watch him work, a familiar scene for them. “There’s a lot of shit I’m not looking forward to, but I’ve always been a little jealous of all the scenting. Maybe it’s because Maddie did it to me so much when I was a kid, even if it didn’t really do anything for me.”

The unspoken part of that is that Eddie scents Buck, too. A hand on his shoulder, their bodies bumping when they walk past each other. Any alphas or omegas that run into Buck can surely smell that there’s an alpha in his life who cares to get their scent all over him—and Eddie’d been doing it long before he managed to realize why he wanted to.

“‘S nice,” he offers. “I think you’ll like it.”

“Oh, do you?” Buck says, and he’s teasing again. “Bet you’re glad you get first dibs.”

Eddie decides that wanting someone to smell like you can probably be best friend’s territory, if Buck is being so chill about it. He steps behind Buck to reach over his shoulder and steal some of the better, brushing his wrist against Buck’s neck as he goes. “Might be,” he says, licking the batter off and groaning. “This is good.”

“I’ve made these exact ones a dozen times,” Buck argues, but Eddie can hear the pleased blush in his voice. “And I can’t smell you yet, dummy.”

“Tell me when you can,” Eddie says, and then stifles a yawn. It’s early, especially for a day off. He retreats to the dining table, where he swivels a chair out to sit on backwards, and leans his arms across the back to watch Buck work.

In the quiet of the early morning, he lets himself have a moment to think that being an omega suits Buck. Not because he’s good at baking—or not only because of it—but for how deeply he cares. How good he is with kids. He’d make any alpha lucky enough to have him happy, wearing a pretty mating bite on his neck.

Eddie swallows roughly. It’s a good thing Buck can’t pick up on his scent yet, because he’s sure it’s just soured. It passes quickly, as he lets his eyes track the shimmy of Buck’s hips as he dances along to whatever’s stuck in his head.

They move to the living room when the muffins are in the oven. Eddie picks up the crossword book Buck keeps on his coffee table and flips to a big puzzle. Buck presses against him so they can work on it together, and Eddie, admittedly, gets a little distracted. Buck’s scent is building with every passing minute, developing into something richer. It still smells the same, but it’s like the difference between picking up a store-bought cookie and one from the fancy bakery Buck gets jealous of. Or maybe Eddie is just losing his mind.

He catches Buck sniffing the air every few minutes, but doesn’t call him out on it.

Buck gets up to take the muffins out, brings Eddie back one that’s quickly reduced to crumbs.

They’re four clues from finishing the puzzle—Eddie is convinced they have something wrong—when Buck sits up straight and gasps.

“Eddie,” he says, hand landing on Eddie’s thigh, shaking him excitedly. “I think I can smell you.”

Buck’s hand on him is not helping Eddie keep his scent calm and neutral. He offers Buck an encouraging smile anyway. “Heat’s probably close then.”

“Can you tell?” Buck asks, and Eddie nods. Now that he’s focusing on it, there’s a telltale ripening of Buck’s scent. He fights to keep his thoughts on that in line, while Buck looks like he can’t decide if he wants to chew his nails off or run laps. “Shit. I’m nervous. They said it could hit fast. And Maddie said the same, that it comes on right away for her.”

“Hey,” Eddie says softly. “Look at me?” He grabs both of Buck’s hands and cups them between his. He drops his voice to what he hopes is a comforting, calming timbre. “I’ve got you.”

Buck lets out a long, intentional breath and then drops his forehead against Eddie’s. They breathe together, and Eddie can track Buck’s emotions from his scent in a way he’s never been able to before. It’s like discovering a new room in a house, a new favorite food. There’s a tinge of fear underlying it, but mostly Buck is just letting himself be. Going with what his burgeoning instincts tell him to do, while the warm rush of his coming heat builds and builds.

Eddie feels Buck tilt his head. Their noses brush, and he has a sliver of a moment to think he’s going to kiss me before he’s being kissed. Somewhere in the fog of his body’s response to Buck’s lips on his, a part of him notices that the late-night fantasies he allowed himself about kissing Buck were right—

Buck kisses like he’s putting everything he has into it, eager and a little sloppy as a soft press of lips quickly turns into him panting, open-mouthed, against Eddie, who takes a second to get with the program. Buck’s scent is swallowing him whole. He’s warm, and it’s like knowing that he’s got an omega sitting, waiting for him to kiss back, goes right to the parts of his brain that his alpha controls.

With a claiming snarl, he winds a hand around Buck to grip the back of his head, and presses into his waiting mouth with a fervor of his own. Buck melts into him, head tilted back while Eddie kisses him like this is the only chance he’s ever going to have.

He’s going to memorize the slide of Buck’s tongue, the points of his teeth, the little noises that build in the back of his throat. And he’ll keep it all to himself, greedy and hiding, while he helps Buck through his first heat without telling him what it means to Eddie, to get to do it.

And of course the kissing isn’t enough, but Eddie could do it for hours. He’d kiss Buck through his entire heat, if that’s what he needed, press him down into the couch and swap spit until the lines between them disappear.

But Buck’s in heat, and it’s clear that he needs more as his scent darkens with want, and it’s a pull perfectly designed to make Eddie’s body react. A feedback loop of pheromones that Eddie won’t let himself surrender fully to, for fear of giving too much away.

Eddie pulls away. Buck whines, a sound that makes Eddie want to bare his teeth and sink them into soft skin and claim what’s his, but he holds Buck back from leaning in for another kiss with a hand in his hair. “You need more than this,” he murmurs. “Your room?”

Buck nods vigorously. “Please,” he says, and Eddie moves quickly to follow as Buck stands on shaky legs. Eddie puts a hand on his shoulder, ready to steady him if he falls, but Buck all but collapses into him. His face ends up tucked into the junction of Eddie’s neck and shoulder, curled in on himself. He’s only going to fall further into his heat breathing Eddie’s scent so directly. That possessive beast in Eddie’s chest rears its head—Buck is thinking about him. Buck wants him, even if it’s only the natural functioning of his body.

“We’ve gotta move,” Eddie says, trying to take a step back without moving away from Buck, which proves to be impossible. “Get to a bed-”

“You don’t want me on the floor?” Buck asks, and it shocks a surprised huff of laughter out of Eddie. “There’s so much of it.”

It’s good that Buck is still—himself. If it only makes Eddie’s blood pound a little harder, then, well, he hopes Buck hasn’t gotten too good at reading emotions from scent yet. “It’s not even a long walk,” he says.

“Carry me.”

The command shivers through Eddie. He gets his hands under Buck’s hips, earning a surprised little gasp from the omega, but he wraps his arms around Eddie’s neck and then Eddie really is carrying him, walking backwards through a house he’s only had a few months to learn.

It’s hardly a surprise when he bumps into a wall. For one, Buck is mouthing at his neck. For another, the layout of Buck’s house makes no sense. Eddie recovers, and though he nearly falls backward through the door, he gets Buck to the bed. It goes against his instincts to let go of him, but his clothes feel stifling.

Buck watches hungrily while Eddie yanks his shirt over his head. He considers for a moment, but pulls down his shorts and briefs—seems pointless to pretend he doesn’t know where this is going. Buck makes a choked noise, eyes heavy on Eddie’s cock. He’s half hard—more, probably—and all the omega pheromones in the air have his knot itching.

“You’re going to put that in me,” Buck says, and then shivers.

“I don’t have to,” Eddie frowns. Is Buck nervous? God, of course he is—who the hell wouldn’t be?

“Yes, you do.”

Eddie chokes on air. “You- okay. I can. Whatever you need.”

He can feel himself hanging on to Buck’s every word. Not just mentally, but physically—it’s like Buck’s got strings on each of his limbs.

When Buck looks at him, it’s a look that says you’re not close enough, so Eddie moves closer. When Buck raises his arms, Eddie grabs the hem of his shirt and lifts it over his head, fingertips grazing Buck’s stomach. He’s seen him without a shirt on more times than he can count, and this doesn’t feel like the first, but it does feel like something. The first time Eddie is allowed to look, the first time Eddie is allowed to look and to want and to know that he’s going to do almost everything he dreams of.

Buck gets his own shorts off. When he eases his dick out, he grabs it with a groan, already flushed and a little angry looking. He was right about his heat coming on fast.

“How should we…” Eddie starts, and trails off when Buck turns away from him to crawl to the top of the bed on all fours. Presenting himself. For Eddie.

They’re not taking this slow, then. Eddie’s not sure he’d be able to when he gets his real first look at the curve of Buck’s ass and the slick dripping down his thighs.

He follows him onto the bed. Kneels behind him, and doesn’t let himself stop and look his fill because Buck needs something, and it’s not for Eddie to take his sweet time admiring him. He does trace a hand down Buck’s back, just to clearly communicate his movements, his intentions, as he grazes his fingers across soft pink skin toward where Buck wants him.

He’d been worried, in all the time he’d had to worry, that Buck might not produce enough slick during his first heat for them to forgo lube, but that’s far from reality. Buck is drooling with slick, soaking himself and the bedspread under him.

Eddie’s fingers trace down his ass. Buck jolts at the first light touch against his hole, and then pushes his hips back. Eddie can hear him panting, words lost to the overwhelming feelings of his heat.

“I’ve got you,” he says. It’s a selfish little mantra—claiming in its own way, that it’s him who has Buck like this, him who gets to take care of him. But he says it anyway, a self- indulgent allowance.

He pets a finger over Buck’s hole. It flutters under his touch, and he fights to keep his movements calm and predictable.

“Eddie,” Buck whines. “You know this isn’t the first time I’ve had a finger up my ass.”

Eddie grits his teeth. “It kind of is.”

“I’m made for it now,” Buck says. That hits Eddie right in the chest, a wave of arousal so strong his vision goes a little dark at the edges. “Stop being so caref- fuck,” Buck swears when Eddie—almost without any choice of his own—follows what Buck’s begging for. He pushes in, up to the knuckle, and the slide is easy. Buck is so wet and so eager, hips chasing the slide as Eddie slowly presses all the way in. “More,” Buck says, and Eddie’s hopeless but to follow.

He opens Buck on two fingers. It’s an insane feeling, to be inside his best friend. He can’t think about getting his dick in him because then he’ll blow his load on the back of Buck’s thighs instead of—instead of inside him. Which Buck might not even want, but he’d told Eddie to figure out what was best, and the command of it is seared into him.

A third finger has Buck writhing, and Eddie wishes he could see his face, but he’s entranced by the view of his fingers sliding in and out.

“‘M ready,” Buck pants. “Eddie- Eddie- I feel so empty, please. You gotta-”

Eddie lets himself lick his fingers while he palms his cock and shuffles closer. The taste is all Buck and his new scent. Eddie’s careful as he touches himself—he doesn’t want to knot the air.

“This isn’t going to last long,” he warns.

“Good,” Buck says.

Eddie guides the head of his cock to Buck’s entrance. He wants to drape himself over the omega, be as close to his scent as possible, but he’s worried that he might bite. That would give it all away.

So he stays kneeling, and he watches as Buck takes him.

It really is like he was made for it. He clenches around him, cants his hips back greedily. The heat of his skin buzzes over Eddie’s body and he can feel his dick pulsing with it like he’s already on the verge of coming.

He lets Buck set the pace, as much as he can on his knees. Feeds himself into him, clenches his hands into fists when he bottoms out, hips pressed to ass. Eddie needs a moment to settle into him, get his head under control, but Buck jerks away and Eddie slides out, and then Buck moves back, and he’s fucking himself on Eddie’s dick and Eddie can tell that it’s not enough because Buck’s scent is desperate and so far from satiated.

So he takes the unspoken command and settles his hands on Buck’s hips, and he fucks him at the fast, deep pace that Buck wants—needs.

Buck is weeping slick, and it makes the glide of Eddie’s cock in and out of him—pulling nearly all the way out only so he can thrust back in—easy. The sound when their bodies meet is obscene.

“Close,” Eddie pants, apologetic. He hasn’t touched Buck, and Buck’s arms are busy holding him up, but the omega doesn’t complain. He just clenches around Eddie again and moans, words lost to the intensity of it.

He’s going to come inside his best friend. But there’s still a part of him that worries, Buck’s body is still adjusting, so he grabs himself at the base and it only takes a few strokes with the added pressure before the intense feeling of climax comes over him, that all-encompassing hotcold, and he spills into Buck and knots his own fist.

Buck writhes under him. Eddie has to keep a hand around his knot—already clenching his teeth at the wrongness of not having the omega wrapped around it when he’s right there and so eager—but he uses the other to grab at Buck’s dick. It pulses in his hand, and then Buck is coming too, collapsing face-first into the bed. Eddie slips out of him.

They’re both still and panting for a long moment, and then: “You didn’t knot me,” Buck says, voice a little muffled by the sheets. He flips onto his back, and Eddie knows his come is leaking out of him. The thought is both insanely hot and devastating. “Eddie,” Buck says. “You-”

“I didn’t think it would be safe.” Eddie’s dick aches; orgasm rendered unsatisfying. “That was your first time-”

“I could have taken it,” Buck says. “I will. We have to go again.”

Normally, Eddie would need a few minutes to recover, but with the scent of heat urging him on—and the sight of Buck, sprawled out on the bed—he knows he can go again as soon as Buck asks.

“Come on,” Buck goads, spreading his legs. Eddie can see every part of him like this—the broad expanse of his chest, the plush of his stomach, his hard, leaking cock. “Show me what you really got.”

Eddie does.

This time, he sees Buck’s face dissolve into ecstasy when Eddie pushes into him. How his hands grip the sheets. The flutter of his lashes, the wet shine of his lips.

He has to lean over Buck to get a good angle and the right amount of leverage. It puts their faces close, and Eddie moans into it when Buck arches up to kiss him, changing the angle of Eddie’s thrusts with it. Eddie would swear that Buck tastes different, now. He’s burning with want and the edge of satisfaction, and Eddie would do anything to taste more of it.

His knot is already swelling, but Eddie fights back the rising tide of his orgasm to draw Buck’s pleasure out. He changes the angle of his hips when Buck’s whines get particularly loud, hitting the same spot inside him over and over until Buck’s not even kissing back, just mewling into his mouth.

Eddie can feel Buck’s hand between their bodies, stripping his cock relentlessly. Eddie wishes he had another arm, to give Buck that part of the pleasure, too.

The first catch of his knot against Buck’s rim makes Buck come with a gasp. Eddie slows the pace, rolling his hips more than thrusting, dragging the fat swell of his knot against Buck again and again while Buck pants through his climax and comes out the other side still begging for more.

It’s not just Buck’s slick frothing between them. Eddie’s already come in him once, but he can tell by the ache in his cock that he’s going to fill him up again and do it right this time, when he can keep it locked inside with his knot.

His knot swells to the point where he doesn’t risk pulling out of Buck. He’s not sure what the omega would do if Eddie failed to knot him a second time.

So he makes sure he does it right.

Near the apex, he lets himself sway down to draw in a big breath of Buck’s concentrated scent. It makes him feel dizzy and determined.

This time when his knot swells and catches, it’s not in his fist—it’s inside Buck. And like he’s pulled the right lever, put in the right combination, Eddie feels like everything clicks into place when another orgasm crashes over him. It’s intense enough to almost feel like a bond, and Eddie really, really cannot think about that.

Buck lets out a long, relieved sigh. His scent softens with satisfaction, and it makes Eddie’s alpha purr with matching contentment.

Eddie isn’t really thinking about the functions of his own body, so caught in tasting Buck’s scent and making sure he feels good, that he doesn’t notice just how determined his body is to make the omega feel good.

“Holy shit,” Buck breathes. “Y-you’re really filling me up.”

Eddie lets out an embarrassed whine, tucking his face against Buck’s neck. His knot is snug inside of Buck, plugging him up while his cock pulses, spilling come deep inside the omega. It’s not a continuous flood. More of a steady, determined flow. Eddie thinks his brain might melt out of his ears.

“So good,” Buck moans. Eddie can feel Buck’s arousal against his stomach. “Fuck, I can’t believe you were trying to keep this away from me.” Eddie makes a weak noise of protest. Buck pats between his shoulders, like a reward. Eddie floats for a long moment in the feeling of Buck, tight and hot around him, sweaty where their skin is sticking together. It feels like Eddie’s secret should be spilling out of him too.

“How long’s it gonna last?” Buck asks curiously. Eddie can feel him shifting, and every nudge against his knot makes him clench his teeth.

“Don’t know,” Eddie mumbles. “Longer if y’keep moving.”

“Oh?” Buck sounds too into that. Eddie is not going to survive.

--

Eddie’s knot did eventually go down. Only after Buck had wedged a hand between them to jerk himself off, which jostled Eddie so much that he’s pretty sure it extended the knot-time by ten minutes.

Somehow, they’d both made it into the kitchen for snacks and water. It was a mostly silent affair, both of them recuperating. Eddie was shoving his feelings back into their box. Buck—well, he looked like he was having a pretty good time.

“It just feels- insane. Eddie, I think you have a magic dick.”

Eddie doesn’t look up from where he’s got his forehead pressed against the table. “What?”

“I’ve never felt anything like that,” Buck says. “I mean- maybe it’s the whole heat thing. But maybe- maybe we’re just really good at having sex. Together.”

Eddie blinks at the wood grain.

“We’re good at everything else,” Buck continues. “Like the firefighter games. And, not dying on roadtrips.”

“Too soon,” Eddie grumbles.

“Okay, not that one. But- okay, be honest. Was it as good for you? I know you’re not in rut, but-”

Eddie doesn’t know how to tell Buck that he’s just had the most meaningful sex of his life without spilling his guts across the kitchen floor, so he only offers a lame “It was good for me too.”

“Like, on a scale of one to ten-”

“It was good enough that it’d feel demeaning to rank,” Eddie says, and feels proud of himself for it.

He’d swear he can hear the way Buck rolls his eyes.

“Well, bad news about omega libido,” Buck says. “I, uh, you know.”

Eddie knows. He can smell it, and despite the exhaustion of two rounds of sex and biting his tongue against his feelings, his body is responding to Buck’s needs, and he can feel himself getting hard.

“Back to bed?”

“Ugh,” Buck groans. “‘S gonna be all sticky.”

“I can start a load of laundry,” Eddie offers. An image flashes in his mind of Buck in the small laundry room, legs parted for Eddie to kneel between.

“I’ve got a better idea,” Buck says, which should probably set off alarm bells for Eddie, but he follows when Buck leaves the kitchen and turns toward the living room.

“The couch?” Eddie says, when Buck gestures for him to sit. “I’ll never look at it the same.”

Something hungry flashes in Buck’s eyes, there and then gone. He gives a little push to Eddie’s chest and he sits, and then Eddie is looking up at him. His gaze drops to the boxers Buck’d pulled on—Eddie’s got his own pair of slightly damn briefs barely covering his surviving modesty—and saliva pools in his mouth. He thinks about getting his mouth on Buck’s thighs. Working him up, watching his legs start to shake.

Buck peels his boxers off and straddles Eddie’s lap. “Oh,” he says, into Buck’s waiting mouth.

This kiss isn’t much like the first one. Buck is mostly in control, using his position to press down into Eddie’s mouth. He’s real messy about it, almost more licking than real kissing, and Eddie stays pliant under the force of his want.

One of Buck’s hands cradles the back of Eddie’s head while the other falls to touch his own cock, so Eddie’s left with the task of keeping Buck steady. He sways so heavily into the kiss that he has to dig his fingers into Buck’s waist to keep him from falling back or sending both of them sprawling, but the pressure only seems to further spur Buck on.

Buck loses the rhythm of the kiss to the motion of his hand—he smacks Eddie’s stomach on every upswing—and Eddie does his best to bring some finesse back into the press of their lips, but everything is so slick with saliva, and Buck’s tongue is everywhere—it’s a lost cause. And he enjoys experiencing how sloppy Buck gets when he chases his pleasure.

“Come on,” Eddie says. “You’re doing so good Buck, huh? Making yourself feel good?”

Buck lets out a little mm-mm into his mouth, and then his come is splattering across Eddie’s stomach.

Eddie melts back into the couch. He’s pleasantly aroused, but more than willing to wait however long it takes Buck to be up for something new. Maybe they’ll watch a movie, or finally finish the crossword.

Buck drops fully onto his lap, and grinds. Eddie makes a strangled noise, hands coming up to grab at Buck’s arms.

“Need you in me,” Buck pleads. He ducks his head and looks up at Eddie through his lashes, which is so entirely unfair that Eddie has half a mind to call a temporary pause and ban that move as unlawful. But Buck is working a hand under his briefs, pawing at Eddie’s rapidly filling cock.

Eddie’s ready to sit up, to lay Buck down on the couch to find the angle that worked before, when Buck just—sinks down.

They both moan at the feeling of it, Eddie throwing his head back against the couch. Buck is tight, like this, a vice around Eddie’s cock, and he hardly waits to give either of them time to adjust—something he seems to be quite a fan of—before he’s moving, thighs flexing as he lifts himself up and off of Eddie’s dick, only to drop down again.

“Jesus-” Eddie stutters. “Buck- holy shit-”

“Eddie- Eddie-” Buck keens. His body shakes as he pushes himself up again, and Eddie is too overwhelmed to help. All he can do is look.

He’s never really thought about Buck’s pecs before. A serious oversight on his part, he decides now, watching them as Buck finds a rhythm, using the strength of his legs and core to move himself quickly up and down Eddie’s cock. It’s like Eddie’s knot hasn’t even caught up yet, but his dick is aching with it, and Buck’s pecs—they move, and not like the rest of him.

Like tits, Eddie thinks blearily. Buck’s riding me and his tits are all I can think about and I’m so, so in love with him. And his tits.

Eddie has to—he puts his hands on Buck’s waist and forces him down on his cock. Buck squirms but doesn’t try to find his pace again, and Eddie leans his face close to Buck’s chest and licks a stripe between his pecs. Tits. Fuck.

His skin is salty with sweat and, probably, come. Eddie greedily chases after the taste, and he only lets himself do it because Buck seems to revel in the feeling—he pushes his chest closer to Eddie’s mouth and he clenches down. Eddie’s cock blurts out a desperate mess of precome.

Buck gets a hand on his head and guides him to the side, to the peak of his nipple. Eddie obediently laps at him, and a full body shiver wracks through Buck, and Eddie feels it in his dick.

If Buck’s kiss from before was messy, then Eddie is his imitator. He wraps his lips around Buck’s nipple. Swirls his tongue and moans, drags his teeth carefully—so carefully—over the peak of it. He’s tasting a mix of his own saliva and Buck’s sweat and Buck’s skin, and nothing else exists in the world except the way Buck’s scent swirls heavy and satiated around them.

Buck guides him to the other nipple. It’s like rediscovering a forgotten memory in its intimate familiarity, once he lets himself sink into it.

He’s aware of Buck sitting on his cock as he lavishes his chest, but it’s almost an afterthought. Buck’s just—keeping him warm. For whenever Buck wants to use him. Eddie gets that floaty feeling again.

Distantly, he’s aware of Buck rocking his hips. It’s a slow, sensual grind, not stimulating enough to distract Eddie from sucking marks into Buck’s skin, but enough to add to the haze of pleasure blanketing him. He imagines that each mark pressed into Buck’s skin is a little declaration of his love, a memento of the fleeting nature of its allowance. He’ll make Buck feel good for as long as he needs, and then he’ll pack everything back away.

The pleasure builds. Eddie is more suckling at Buck than really doing anything, and he’s got a distant notion that he should be doing more, but he can still sense Buck’s arousal. He’s doing something right. He doesn’t stop.

Something shifts. Changes. A ripple of pleasure through Eddie’s body, and Buck goes still.

Buck’s hand pets through his hair. “That was so fucking good Eddie, holy shit.”

Eddie blinks. Buck’s chest is a mess of red marks and spit. He feels himself flush, but it’s lost to the gentle pressure that rumbles through him. Through his knot. He’d knotted Buck without even realizing.

Buck finally looks at least a little worn out. There’s almost a glow to him, with his skin flushed and hair sweaty. Eddie kind of wants to lick him some more. He keeps his tongue to himself, but only just.

“I didn’t even…”

“Realize?” Buck finishes for him. Hah. Finishes. Like they haven’t already done enough of that. “Don’t worry, it was great.”

“Out of ten?” Eddie asks around a yawn.

“I thought we weren’t using ranking.”

“I’m not,” Eddie says. He slumps back against the couch and traces a thumb absentmindedly over Buck’s hipbone. He still feels a little out of his head. “But you could.”

“Nah.”

“‘Kay,” Eddie mumbles. “What’re we doing now?”

“Crossword?” Buck says, cocking his head to the side like a dog.

“Uhm.” Eddie tries to peer over his shoulder. “Can you reach it?”

--

They do go to sleep, eventually. After much-needed showers—separately—and a brief argument over sleeping arrangements. “Eddie,” Buck had said, leveling him with a look. “You’ve been inside me. We can share the bed.”

Eddie finally gets a good look at Buck’s nest, while he’s turned on his side and waiting for exhaustion to take him.

He’s so tired it feels like he’s looped right back around to being awake, even with Buck’s heavy, even breathing lulling him to sleep. The feelings related overthinking is still pinging around Eddie’s head like a caffeinated squirrel. He’s not sure why—the events of the day should have soothed him. Buck hasn’t given any indication that he thinks Eddie feels more from him than a best friend should, and that’s—that’s what Eddie wants. Isn’t it? Because surely if Buck felt the same way, he would have said something. Or Eddie would have noticed.

He grits his teeth, and tries to focus on his breathing.

The corner of Buck’s room closest to him is taken up by the nest. Despite how much time Eddie’s spent in here today, there was never really any opportunity to look at it. It’s about what he’d expected: a mess of pillows and blankets and various shirts and sweaters, some that he recognizes as Maddie’s. And… A lot of clothing is his. An old LAFD shirt he used to wear to sleep, until it went missing. A hoodie that he’d tucked away when the summer months came. There’s even a blanket that usually rests along the back of his couch that probably carries a mix of his and Chris’s scents.

Eddie rolls onto his back and smiles softly up at the ceiling. He thinks about… Buck. Surrounded by his scent and in his bed. There are things he knows about Buck now that he never would have, if he hadn’t presented. The way he sounds when he comes. The pleased little grin he gets when he makes Eddie come. His scent.

If he imagines that his feelings for Buck have been stuffed in a box and thrown into a storage closet, he can also imagine taking them down, unpacking them gently. Trying out how they lie on his skin, and taste in his mouth.

He rolls on his side, facing Buck now. He finds the omega already oriented toward him, though his face is slack with sleep. There’s no telling how long it’ll be until the next wave of Buck’s heat hits, and Eddie likes seeing him so content.

It’s not long before Eddie drifts off. There’s a new layer to his thoughts, once rough edges smoothed over.

He’s too tired to dream. He sinks into a haze, pillowed in Buck’s scent.

Until he does dream—hands on him, gentle but hurried. There’s the familiar buzz of pleasure, felt so often that it rises easily. It’s intense, now, after hours of nothing. Eddie chases after it a little—something tells him he should. Something tells him he needs to. He lets it roll through him, though it’s only an illusion of choice. You can’t stop a dream, right? And there’s no part of Eddie that wants to, not when the gentle hum of pleasure turns into something louder, heat that sings through him, through the haze.

Some distant part of him feels close to waking. But the intensity passes before he’s dragged fully from sleep, and he gladly settles back into it.

And then he sits up, gasping awake, to find Buck sprawled across his chest. “Sorry,” Buck murmurs, dropping an apologetic kiss to Eddie’s neck. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“‘S okay,” Eddie says. “What- what is it?”

Buck shifts, a barely there movement, and Eddie feels him. The familiar heat of his body, the catch where Eddie’s knot has sunk into him.

“Jesus,” Eddie breathes. “Needed me that bad, huh?”

“Tried not to. Tried- fingers. Got myself off looking at you.” “Yeah?”

“Mm. Only made me need you more.”

Eddie’s hips twitch, grinding his knot into Buck. “That’s so fucking hot, b- Buck.”

Buck’s scent spikes soft and sweet. “Did you almost say baby?”

Eddie runs a hand down his spine and swallows back a thick feeling in his throat. Fear—but also hope. He thinks he can taste the same rolling off of Buck.

“I did,” Eddie admits. “Is that- okay?”

He feels Buck tense. “You- I can tell so much from your scent Eddie, it’s- it’s insane. But, uh, you- if you are in- in l-love with me-”

Eddie lets out a sharp breath. Of course Buck figured it out. He was probably never any good at hiding it to start with. But he brushes his fingers along the edges of Buck’s sweaty curls, and he makes himself say, “I am.”

He feels Buck’s lashes flutter against his skin where his face is really tucked in against Eddie now, right at the crook of his neck.

“How long?” Buck asks. “If it’s because of- I know me presenting has changed things-”

“I don’t know,” Eddie admits. He senses Buck’s worry, hates the taste of it. “I only realized in New Mexico. When I was looking for you. When I thought about- about never seeing you again. I would have spent the rest of my life in that desert, Buck, looking for you.”

He’d walk until he lost the shape of himself. Maybe he’d fall to four paws, throw his head back with the yipping call of a lone coyote.

“So it’s not because-?”

“No. No, it’s not because you presented. Not because you’re an omega. But if you don’t- feel the same- or if you want to, to take time-”

“Eddie,” Buck says, and the laugh that comes with the way he says his name rumbles through both of their bodies. It’s a beautiful sound. The kind Eddie wants to bottle up and keep. “Of course I’m in love with you. I thought- I thought you knew. That’s why I couldn’t ask you to help with my heat. If we were just- just friends, you would have been the first person I told.”

“Well I don’t like that,” Eddie says, but there’s nothing that can really get him down, not right now. “We’re still best friends.”

Buck moves a little, teasing roll of his hips. “Are we?” Eddie is still inside him. They’ve just confessed while Buck is sitting on Eddie’s knot.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He flexes his legs, his core—and rolls them over. The pressure against his knot sends sparks fizzling down his spine. He grins down at Buck. A familiar expression—shared after good saves or delicious meals. “You said we were best friends for life.”

“I was very drunk.”

“Wasn’t only the one time.”

“I- okay- best friends for life is really doing it for me-”

Eddie laughs. “Yeah?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

He can feel Buck get squirmy under him. Thinking about forever, Eddie ducks his head under Buck’s chin, noses at the junction of neck and shoulder. Somewhere in his research, there had been a long thread about how a late presentation meant that a mating bite probably wouldn’t settle on the first try. It’s a good thing, probably—they should really talk, when both of their heads are clear, but Eddie’s always been about big gestures when it comes to Buck. He wants to show him how much he means it.

The first press of his lips over Buck’s scent gland makes Buck gasp. A gentle scrape of his teeth makes Buck writhe, and it must be an entirely new sensation for him, the sensitivity of touch to the site of a mating bond.

Through the sting of overstimulation, he grinds his knot into Buck. Laves at his neck, traces the line of his collarbone, licks curiously at the small scar of his tracheostomy. Buck knows that Eddie’s in love with him. Buck’s in love with him back. Eddie’s going to be riding the high of this feeling for the rest of his life.

“Fuck,” Eddie says, and it comes out as a whine. His want is so big. He’s in Buck already, knot swollen, and he still wants more. “Tell me-” he pants. Begs. “Tell me how it feels.”

“So good,” Buck sighs. “You’ve been so good for me, since my heat started. My, uh, my good boy?”

Jesus. Eddie has to turn his head away from Buck’s neck and sink his teeth into a pillow.

Buck laughs, a mix of disbelief and elation. “That doing it for you? Knowing how good you make me feel? Knowing that you-” Eddie’s hips pull back further than they have so far, an almost painful sensation for both of them, and a reminder of what they’re doing. “You have me. Hanging off your stupidly fat knot. Letting you slobber all over my neck and my- ah- tits.”

Eddie’s going to be knotting him forever. He thinks he’s just come again, though it’s damn near impossible to really tell if he ever stopped.

Buck keeps talking. It’s Eddie’s favorite place to be, listening to him. Feeling the rumble of his words up through his chest, against his lips when he feels it’s safe enough to press kisses to his neck again.

Eventually, he falls asleep.

And wakes up alone.

An entirely different feeling from waking up with Buck as close as physically possible, and he hates it. He sits up faster than his body can keep up with, head cloudy as he looks frantically around the room—and finds Buck curled up in his nest.

Eddie stumbles out of the bed—how Buck leaves it every morning is a real mystery, it’s absurdly comfortable—and toward the nest. But instinct freezes him a few feet away.

“Buck?” he says softly.

“‘Ddie?” Buck says back, head popping up. A soft grin pulls at his face, making his eyes crinkle. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Eddie—waves. Idiot. He feels absurdly shy, all of a sudden. “I like your nest. Very- cozy.”

“Oh,” Buck ducks his head. “Thank you.”

Eddie fidgets. Is it wrong to ask? Is he meant to wait for the invitation to come from Buck? “Would two people fit in there? Do you think?”

He sees the moment Buck catches on to what he wants, and the moment he wakes up enough to tease him for it. “I don’t know,” Buck hums. He unfolds himself and sprawls out like a starfish. “Might’ve only built it for one.”

A whine builds in the back of Eddie’s throat. His alpha begs to touch and hold the omega, memories of the taste of his skin, the beat of his pulse, and he’s so woefully far away. And he knows, somewhere, that Buck’s only teasing. But he feels pathetic about it anyway.

Buck’s laughing at him. A shame how nice the sound is. “Eddie- you big alpha dork, come on. Get in here. I formally invite you in, or whatever the hell you want me to say.”

“So mean,” Eddie grumbles, even as a wave of pure bliss crashes over him.

He’s careful, stepping into the nest. Buck scoots over to give him room, but it’s still a bit of an awkward process to kneel, and then lie down. There must be a sleeping pad under the layer of blankets, because it doesn’t feel at all like being on the floor.

Buck, greedy omega that he is, rolls himself into Eddie, his back to Eddie’s front. Eddie obediently wraps his arms around him, and buries his face in the back of his neck.

There’s still a lot of heat scent tangled up with Buck’s normal—and how wonderful it is, to know Buck’s normal scent—but it’s not too urgent, for the moment. Eddie can just hold him. Replay the moments of the night before in awe.

“Was last night… Real?” Buck asks, like he’s reading Eddie’s mind.

Eddie huffs a laugh into his neck. “Maybe we both imagined it,” he says. “But I think that makes it real. Technically.”

“God, you sound like me,” Buck giggles. “You get too much of my scent, alpha? That shit’ll definitely mess your head up.”

“Maybe.” Eddie breathes in a big, exaggerated lungful of air. “I think I… want to go to a museum. Read every single plaque.”

“This your dirty talk?” Buck says. “It’s working.” He wiggles back against Eddie, scent thickening.

“Thought there wasn’t any sex allowed in the nest?” Eddie asks, moving his hand to palm Buck’s chest. “You really want to get up? Right after I got comfortable?”

“I think,” Buck says, rolling over in Eddie’s arms to face him. “That you have to make your own mistakes in life.”