hi lovely! thank you for the prompt <3 this got sorta out of hand and was primarily written between 2 and 3 am, i hope you enjoy! (also your other prompt has not been forgotten- it’s incorporated in bed fic which is taking a long time)
Buck thinks he’s going insane. He has to be going insane, actually. Because there is absolutely, positively, no sane reason for him to have spent the past five minutes sitting in his turned off Jeep staring at Eddie’s front door instead of doing the sane thing and getting out of his car and going to actually talk to his best friend. Except- except.
Except for the fact that Buck now knows what his best friend’s mouth tastes like. He knows how it feels to kiss his best friend, to shove his best friend into a wall and press every inch of them together. He knows the sounds Eddie makes when Buck kisses his throat, the high pitched whines elicited by Buck’s ministrations and the rough, gravelly tone of his voice as he tells buck to stop teasing him. He knows the feel of Eddie’s hands as they trace paths of fire along Buck’s skin, the urgency with which Eddie touched him, as if he were afraid that Buck would simply disappear if he stopped.
Buck knows and it’s driving him absolutely fucking insane. Because while he hears Eddie’s voice, rough with desire and raw with desperation telling him to “fucking do something, stop teasing,” he can also feel the words Eddie whispered when they broke apart from their first kiss, his dark eyes searching Buck’s for an answer to an unspoken question.
“A one time thing,” he had breathed against Buck’s lips, his hand fisted in Buck’s shirt, holding him close as Buck crowded him against the wall in a dark corner of their favorite bar, “right?”
“Right,” Buck had agreed, even as the sting of rejection spiked through his chest. Hoping to get rid of it, Buck leaned forward and pressing his mouth against Eddie’s once again, urgently, desperately. Eddie let out a soft, low sound hummed from the back of his throat as Buck used the weight of his body and his grip on Eddie’s waist to push him further into the wall. Eddie’s hands lifted to tangle his fingers in Buck’s hair, tugging gently in encouragement as Buck moved his mouth off of Eddie’s, kissing a hot line down his jaw, neck, to the junction of his throat and shoulder.
“Buck,” Eddie had said softly, his voice like gravel. He tugged harder at Buck’s hair, pulling him off his neck. They were both panting, a hungry question in Eddie’s eyes when Buck met his gaze. Buck searched his eyes for another moment, but then Eddie’s hips shifted against his and the words tumbled out,
“My place or yours?” Buck asked, surprised by the roughness of his own voice. They’d only been making out for a few minutes, and Buck already sounded wrecked. God, what was he doing?
Eddie didn’t answer for a few moments, the time seeming to stretch over eternity as he stared, open mouthed, panting, at Buck.
“Yours,” he finally whispered. That was all the encouragement Buck needed to surge forward, pressing a hot, slow kiss to Eddie’s mouth before taking his hand and pulling him out of the bar. They managed to control themselves in the cab to Buck’s complex, but the walk from the car to Buck’s front door was slow, interrupted with hungry, desperate kisses and slow, deep ones that made something stir in Buck’s chest that he didn’t want to think too long on.
“Are you sure?” Eddie had asked, once more, as Buck fumbled with his lock, Eddie’s lips hot on the back on his neck and his hands tight in their grip on his hips, his own hips pressed flush against Buck. Swinging his door open and yanking Eddie in with him was the only response Buck gave. His answer was clear as he kicked the door shut and latched his mouth onto Eddie’s throat, backing them towards the stairs to his bedroom.
“Buck,” Eddie said roughly, grabbing the rail to stop them and gently pushing Buck off him. His eyes searched Buck’s, calculating and cautious, but hunger burning below the surface. “I need to hear you say it, I need to know you want this.”
“I want this,” Buck swore, his stomach clenching at the concern in Eddie’s eyes, at the care. But- that was a problem. Buck couldn’t have a honey-like warmth spreading through his chest at Eddie’s considerateness, at his gentleness. He couldn’t linger on the way that Eddie, no matter the situation, always managed to make Buck feel safe. How his very presence gave Buck a feeling of security. How he made Buck feel whole. But- this wasn’t about feelings- it couldn’t be. This was physical, something they both wanted and needed. A one time thing. Nothing more. “Do you?”
“I want you, Buck,” Eddie replied, and it felt heavy, and it felt real, and so Buck did the only thing he could think of. He tightened his grip on Eddie’s shirt, tugging him impossibly closer.
“Then fucking take me, Eddie,” he challenged, relishing as Eddie’s eyes lit on fire and then Eddie was surging forward, kissing Buck with purpose in a way that had electricity racing down Buck’s spine and tingling through his body.
And then they didn’t do much more talking.
So, see, the problem isn’t that Buck is absolutely insane. No, the problem is that that night with Eddie was the sanest he’s felt in a long time.
The problem is that now that Buck has tasted Eddie, now that he’s felt him, heard him, he has no idea how he’s supposed to pretend it’s not all he’s ever wanted and more, how he’s supposed to go back to just friends now.
The problem is that, after the night that should have changed everything, Buck woke up alone in a cold bed, with only the phantoms of Eddie’s touch and the taste on his tongue to remind him that it wasn’t all just a dream.
The problem is that it clearly didn’t mean as much to Eddie as it did to Buck. And Buck’s not sure he can pretend it didn’t mean all that it did.
The problem is that Eddie is in his house, just a couple hundred feet and a door away, and Buck is fucking frozen in his seat, terrified of facing him. Chris isn’t home- he’s at Hen’s for a playdate (“Hangout,” Chris had corrected in a way that was scarily teenager-like) and so Buck has absolutely no excuse for being at the Diaz house.
Which- he’s never actually needed an excuse before. Eddie’s never asked him to give a reason for coming over, just welcomed him with an open door and warm smile. Logically, Buck knows it would be simple to get out of his car and cross the couple hundred feet and open the door and spend the night watching stupid movies with Eddie. In theory. In reality, the second Buck sees Eddie, he’s pretty sure he’s gonna panic.
His phone buzzes, ripping him from his thoughts, and he pulls it from his jacket pocket. He swears his heart skips a beat when he sees Eddie’s name lighting up the screen. He swipes open the message, hating the fact that his hand shakes as he does so.
You gonna stay in the car all night or are you coming in?
Buck sucks in a deep breath and slides his phone back into his pocket. He’s been caught. No turning back now. He opens his door and steps out of his car and his mind is racing because he has no idea what to say and about 200 feet to figure it out. 100 feet to figure it out. 50. 30. 15. 10. And then he’s standing right in front of the door, hand on the knob, frozen. The door is yanked out of his grasp and he stumbles slightly, gaping at Eddie.
They both just stare at each other for several, long, terrifying beats. And then at once,
Eddie: “Buck, we should talk-”
Buck: “All I want to do is kiss you. All the time.”
Buck’s jaw drops open at the same time Eddie’s eyes widen, both of them shocked at what Buck’s just said. Before Eddie has a chance to reply, Buck spins on his heel and runs towards his car, flinging open the door, jumping inside, and starting the car before he fully realizes what he’s doing. Frantic, embarrassed, and desperate to get away, Buck throws the Jeep into reverse.
“Buck!” Eddie shouts, running up to the car, too close for Buck to safely make his speedy escape. So he does the mature thing. ‘Cause he’s an adult. He puts the jeep in park and locks the doors. And then he pitches forward and slams his forehead against the rim of the steering wheel as Eddie tries to open his door.
“Buck.” Eddie’s voice is muffled through the glass. “Buck open the door.”
“No thanks,” Buck calls back.
Eddie scoffs, resting his forearms against the glass and peering at Buck. “What’s the plan here, bud?”
“Gonna wait until I run out of oxygen. Then just pass away. Might take a few hours. Sorry for the inconvenience, I’m sorta blocking your driveway.”
“Right. Or we could take the not insane route and talk about this.”
“I’m happy with my dying plan.”
Buck shrugs, forehead still resting against the wheel. “You’re not the one with the keys.”
“Okay so what if I just talk at you?”
“What if I told you all I can think about is kissing you, too?”
Buck stiffens but says nothing, his heart hammering in his chest.
“What if I told you that all day, all I’ve been able to focus on is the ghosts of your touch I feel? On the echoes of your voice in my head?” His voice lowers, turning rough. “On how pretty you sounded when you begged, on the way that you flush all the way down to your chest, on the taste of your mouth?”
A shiver races down Buck’s spine and he finally lifts his head, turning to look at Eddie through the glass. He says nothing, just stares at Eddie, trying to find the answers to questions he doesn’t even know in the depths of Eddie’s eyes. And then he starts to roll down the window. Eddie jerks back, but doesn’t break eye contact as the window rolls down. There’s a held breath between them and Buck swallows thickly.
“I can’t do a causal thing,” is what he ends up saying. “Not- not with you.”
“And if I don’t want to do casual?” Eddie replies immediately, stepping closer, and Buck knows he means it.
“Then I think you need to kiss me. Like right the fuck now or-” Eddie’s lips are on his before he can finish his thought, which works well because the moment Eddie’s mouth is on his own, every thought Buck has suddenly flies from his grasp, replaced with EddieEddieEddie.
“I could never do just casual with you, Buck,” Eddie whispers against his lips as they separate. “You’re it.”
“You tried to turn your Jeep into a death trap.”
Buck snorts softly. “Even?”
Eddie leans forward again, pressing his mouth against Buck’s in a slow, dirty kiss. “I dunno, you ran too.” Buck just hums in response as Eddie’s lips travel down his throat, Eddie leaning halfway into the car now.
“I’m sure I can think of some way to make it up to you,” Buck whispers, tugging at Eddie’s hair to pull his mouth back to Buck’s, arching into Eddie as much as the awkward position will allow, car door still wedged between them.
“I think,” Eddie says in between kisses, “that maybe we should get inside.”
“I think that’s a really good idea,” Buck agrees, turning off the car with a grin and jumping out to pull Eddie towards the house.
Buck may be insane. He may be entirely, completely, fully off his rocker. But if this is what insanity feels like, he thinks, he doesn’t want to be sane ever again.
