Archive of Our Own

Sweat

“Gross, dude.”

The disdain in Ravi’s voice catches Buck’s attention, already on the defensive as he’s ready to prove that he did, in fact, wipe down the bench after using it. It’s ridiculous for Ravi to comment anyway, since he’s no angel when it comes to gym cleanliness. Buck’s cleaned up after him enough times for him to argue about it now.

When he looks up from putting the weights away, he’s surprised to find Ravi turned toward the opposite end of the gym. It’s a great view; Buck doesn’t blame him. The muscles of Eddie’s back flex under his loose tank top before he drops his shoulders and faces Ravi, arms glistening with sweat until they end at the boxing gloves on his hands. Buck unabashedly tracks the lines of sweat to the damp armpits of his shirt, to the wet spot darkening his collar in a splotchy V, to the fall of his dripping hair. Workout Eddie is one of Buck’s favorite iterations of his partner, but he’s trained himself into having slightly more restraint when they’re working out in the firehouse gym. After a few months of dating, he’s trained himself to ogle him only, like, fifty percent of his workout.

“Did I get ya?” Eddie asks through a pant, chest heaving with exertion. He sounds apologetic, raising his arm to try and push his wet bangs back from his forehead without taking off his boxing gloves. 

“Yeah, you shook out your hair like a fucking dog.” Ravi laughs, clearly unoffended. “I was right in the splash zone.”

“Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to.” Eddie grants him a smile, shrugging a shoulder. “I can’t keep my hair out of my eyes today.”

“Maybe it’s time for you to start wearing headbands, Diaz.” Chim offers as he crosses the gym. “You can borrow a few of Jee’s if you’d like. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind making her Uncle Eddie feel like a princess.”

“If Jee ever wants to take a boxing class, I’ll go with her and happily wear a princess headband.” Eddie says, reaching up with his forearm to once again try to push his hair off of his face. “But that doesn’t help me today.”

“Here, Eddie –” Buck’s at his side in a second, swiping Eddie’s sopping bangs off of his forehead without hesitation. He smooths them back across the top of his head, trying to tuck the longer strands low behind his ears. “A hair clip might work better than a headband, honestly.”

“Jee also has plenty of those.” Chim adds, wrinkling his nose at the two of them. “Now that’s gross, Buck.”

“What? It’s just Eddie.” Buck argues, entirely unbothered… by Chim’s accusations, at least. Being this close to Eddie, feeling the damp heat of him under his palms, smelling the musk of sweat hidden underneath familiar deodorant… fuck. He is definitely on his way to being very bothered. 

He wills himself to stay strong and use bickering with Chimney as an easy distraction. “I really hope you kept Maddie’s hair out of her face when she was giving birth, Chim, or we’re going to have words.”

“Fair play.” Chim raises his hands. “But let it be known that it was childbirth.”

“Still just a little sweat. And you’re a paramedic.”

With a fond chuckle, Eddie turns Buck’s attention back to his smiling, sweat-shiny face. “Thanks for the help, baby.”

It’s obvious that he dropped the pet name, a much rarer occurrence in the workplace than at home, to assuage any possible doubt Buck could be harboring over his decision to help him. Buck catches this, and it’s sweet and lovely and so Eddie, but he doesn’t need reassurance. There’s no part of Eddie that he doesn’t want; he’d fuse their bodies and pass the same air between their lungs and the same blood through their veins if he could. Not to mention that Eddie’s never gross to him – they’ve seen each other at every worst, mentally, emotionally, and physically. Caring for Eddie after being shot, or through a nasty bout of the flu, or even just after a wild night out is just a way for Buck to apply the overflowing love he has for Eddie. The most intimate, vulnerable, or gross parts of that care are just places for his love to land.

But even beyond caretaking, there’s something so viscerally intimate about tasting Eddie’s sweat under his tongue when they’ve been fucking for hours on a day off. Buck loves the slip of their bodies as they rock together. He craves the musk that floods his nose when he buries his face in Eddie’s crotch, damp hair tickling his face and licking salt from his skin before he seals his mouth around his cock. Buck loves him unkempt, needs him a little gross. 

Right now, because they’re at work, all Buck can do is catch Eddie’s eye as he presses a fleeting kiss to his cheek. The slight raise of a brow is the only indication that Eddie understands the meaning behind his look, but it’s more than enough for Buck to know that he does. Further confirmation comes from how he tracks the movement of Buck’s tongue as he runs it across his lips, tasting the sweat lifted from Eddie’s cheek. 

And then – “Buck.” A low, broken-sounding hum of his name that kickstarts a pleasant, buzzing warmth down his spine.

“Yeah, I know.” Buck says in return, as if he didn’t start things to begin with. With a quick squeeze of Eddie’s hip, he tears himself away and follows Chim out of the gym, lest he bend Eddie over the bench he was using not ten minutes prior. 

It’s going to be a rough shift.

******

The first morning at home after their shift, Buck wakes to an empty bed. He and Eddie tend to have well-matched sleep schedules, shaped by the job and by parenting a teenager who has to be off to school much earlier than he’d prefer. But between the two of them, Eddie’s the most consistent early riser, occasionally waking up so early that he’ll go for a run or call one of his sisters from the back patio to catch them on their drive into work.

Some days, Buck stays in bed until he returns just to jokingly guilt trip him for not cuddling him awake. Other days, the kitchen calls to him, and he’ll make a family breakfast spread for his Diaz boys.

Today is a day for omelets. Chris is at Aunt Pepa’s until mid-afternoon, so Buck files the idea of pancakes away for later. It feels sacrilegious to make them without the person who still hasn’t grown out of begging for Buck to make pancakes on the weekends. It might kill him if Chris ever stops asking Buck to make pancakes.

The front door clicks open and closed just as Buck finishes cracking the eggs into a pan, throwing the shells in the compost and washing his hands at the sink. By the time he’s drying his hands, Eddie’s standing in the doorway to the kitchen in tiny running shorts and a sweat-soaked cutoff tank. His hair, still as messy and unrestrained as it was in the gym the day prior, sticks to his forehead in dark tendrils. Buck follows a bead of sweat as it rolls down his neck, slipping into the dip of his collarbone. The dark patch at the collar of his tank top dips low down his chest, evidence of an average LA run in the heat that chokes the morning almost as much as it does the afternoon.

Buck feels his own throat closing at the heat that envelops him so abruptly. Eddie is here, dripping sweat onto their tile floors – their tile floors. They’re at home, they have a child-free morning, and Eddie is, by all accounts, gross after a run.

“Omelets? Hell yeah, I’m hungry.” Eddie says appreciatively, rolling out his glistening shoulders. “‘M gonna take a shower real quick, but I’ll be right back –”

“No!” Buck interrupts, lurching forward into Eddie’s space. “No, don’t. Please.”

“Do you want to shower with me?” Eddie asks behind a surprised little laugh, letting Buck crowd him against the wall. “Or…”

“Or.” Buck echoes firmly, already getting his hands underneath the hem of his tank top. Eddie takes care of pulling it over his own head so Buck can press his hands against Eddie’s stomach, running them over the slick, toned ridges of his abs. “Fuck, Eddie. You’re so fucking sexy, I can’t – I need –”

Eddie pulls him into a bruising kiss, licking into his mouth. The slide of their mouths mirrors the slip of Buck’s hands down his back, filthy and desperate. He can’t stop when he meets the silky nylon of his shorts, dipping his hands underneath two waistbands to knead his ass. Eddie instantly rolls his hips forward, dragging the hard line of his cock against Buck’s. 

The kiss turns sloppy as Buck moans into Eddie's mouth, dragging his parted lips down to his neck. He mouths a trail of saliva along the same path he watched the bead of sweat take not five minutes earlier, chasing the salt with his tongue.

“Should’ve known you’d want me when I’m all sweaty.” Eddie says, voice thick with arousal. “You’re so fucking dirty, Buck. Aren’t you?”

“Y-yeah.” Buck whimpers, nodding emphatically against his shoulder. “I am. I – I need to suck your cock, Eddie. I – please. I need to taste you, I need –”

“Baby, I just ran five miles. My shorts are soaked.” Eddie teases, pressing all of the right buttons to make Buck pulse so hard in his boxers that he has to move one of his hands to grip the base of his cock through the cotton. 

Of course Eddie notices, smirking lecherously. “In that case, I bet I’ll taste even better. Go on.”

Buck feels not a hint of mortification as he immediately drops to his knees, taking Eddie’s shorts and underwear with him. He traces the line of Eddie’s hips with his tongue, nipping the freckle beneath his bellybutton before licking down his happy trail, collecting all the sweat that gathered in the thin smattering of hair. He revels in the feeling of Eddie’s cock against his face as he maps the skin around it, hearing the hitch in Eddie’s breath as he mouths just underneath his balls. He’s warm and masculine and sharp and so hot that Buck could very easily come in his pants. He’s too close to the edge already, sparking like the end of a livewire.

“Shit, Buck.” Eddie curses, sliding his fingers into Buck’s curls and tugging just on the pleasant side of hard. He pulls him away from his body just enough to keep him from mouthing at his dick. Buck whines, mouth slack as he looks up at Eddie from underneath his lashes. “Goddamn, you’re so fucking gorgeous. Look at you, all filthy and desperate. I love you so much, holy shit.”

“Do I need to beg?” Buck licks over his lips as he runs his hands up Eddie’s thighs. “I will, Eddie. I mean, I already started – I –”

“No, baby. You know I’ll always give you what you need. C’mon.” Eddie guides his head back to his dick, using his other hand to tap the wet head of his cock against Buck’s parted lips. “Go ahead, Buck. You can suck me.”

Want overtakes him as he swallows Eddie’s cock down until he hits the back of his throat, reveling in the sudden ache that he has to breathe through in order to keep from gagging. Buck loves being good at sucking dick, and he especially loves being good at sucking Eddie’s dick. He takes pride in knowing exactly what makes Eddie fall apart fastest or how to expertly edge him until he begs for Buck to let him come. The knowing is just as devastatingly hot as the performing. It’s a skillset only he gets to have and use.

Today, Buck only takes. Skillset be damned, the wanton overwhelm consumes him until he is reduced to only the baser desires of his senses. All thought disappears at the weight of Eddie on his tongue and the sharp taste of him that floods his mouth. He relaxes his throat and buries his nose in his pubic hair, breathing deeply until all he can smell is Eddie.

Eddie’s grip on his hair acts as a grounding force, keeping time with every bob of Buck’s head. He can hear the obscene noises he’s making, from the slick squelch of saliva between his mouth and Eddie’s cock to the little vibrating groans that are punched from the back of his throat. Eddie’s gasping and moaning above him, reduced to a stream of curses and declarations of love in both English and Spanish.

Buck knows Eddie’s going to come before he even says it, the erratic snap of his hips and the twitch of his cock clueing him in. He pulls off just as Eddie opens his mouth to warn him, replacing his mouth with his hand as Eddie all but sobs out of need. 

“Come on my face.” Buck begs, voice gravelly and wrecked. 

“Fuck, Buck, oh my god –” Eddie moans, trembling with how close he is. Buck pumps him faster, glancing up at him again. He meets Eddie’s eyes, all dark and wanting, and sticks out his tongue, greedy for every last taste of Eddie that he can get. 

“So fucking good –” Eddie grunts, breathing hard. “Buck, baby, I’m coming – shit –” 

Buck closes his eyes just as the first rope of come hits his cheek, hot and wet as some of it lands on his tongue. He works Eddie through his orgasm, aiming his cock so that his come paints his mouth, his eyes, his forehead, his chin, he’s –

“Filthy.” Eddie murmurs, awestruck as he slides his hand down to cup Buck’s jaw. “Jesus Christ, Buck. You’re a mess.”

Buck opens his eyes slowly, a satisfied grin pulling up the corners of his lips. “So are you. And you taste fucking great.”

“God, I love you.” Eddie sighs, swiping his thumb through a streak of come and pressing it to Buck’s lips. He opens automatically, sucking it off of his finger eagerly. “Let me take care of you now, baby.”

All at once, the force of his own need crashes back into him, gone dormant while he was absorbed in Eddie’s pleasure. He’s so close that all it would take is a few thrusts into Eddie’s fist –

“Not yet. Make me wait.” Buck pleads, standing from his knees just to fold right back into Eddie. “Can I fuck you? In the shower?”

“You’re insatiable.” Eddie teases, but he’s nodding already. “Gonna eat me out while you’re at it? Edge yourself a little more before we get clean?”

“Oh, fuck.” Buck groans. “Yeah, yeah, let’s – oh shit! The omelets!”

Sure enough, the now-inedible eggs bear an impressive char. Thanks to the low heat of Buck’s fluffy egg omelets attempt, they just barely hadn’t started smoking. 

“I don’t even want to think about what would’ve happened if we had to call that in.” Eddie remarks as Buck sets the pan in the sink. “‘Local firefighters burn down house after forgetting basic fire safety over a blowjob.’”

“Hey, it was a great blowjob.” Buck argues, double checking that the burner is off before herding Eddie out of the kitchen and toward their bathroom. “And we’ll be careful in the shower so we don’t have to call that one in, either.”

“‘Local firefighters die in shower after one tries to sniff the other’s armpit while fucking him.’”

“Hey!” Buck’s face heats, stripping off his clothes as they walk into the ensuite. “I haven’t sniffed your armpit. Yet.”

“You also haven’t fucked me. Yet.” Eddie counters matter-of-factly. “But I won’t say anything if you do. We both know you like it a little dirty.”

“Get in the shower.” Buck gives his cock a few courtesy strokes, hissing at the sensitivity. “And don’t pretend you don’t, too.”

“Never said I didn’t, Buck.”

Finger Sucking

“Look, Buck. It’s great, I’m just not sure that I can tell the difference between the dark chocolate icing and the semi-sweet chocolate icing.” Chimney explains. “But maybe I’m misremembering; it’s been awhile since you last made this cake.”

“I can tell the difference.” Eddie pipes up, running his finger through the last speck of icing on his plate and bringing it to his lips. “And this one’s better. The dark chocolate adds something.”

“Yeah, you already cleaned your plate.” Hen teases. “You’d be the one to know.”

Buck nods. “Yeah, I think it’s… richer, maybe? Like… a fuller taste than the semi-sweet, which I think tasted a little flat. Do you think it tastes fruitier? The dark chocolate’s supposed to add fruity notes to it.”

“I don’t know.” Eddie says, darting his hand out to Buck’s half-eaten cake slice to collect more icing with a swipe of the same finger. He pulls it to his mouth to taste it again, contemplative. “Maybe –”

“That is the same finger you just licked, Eddie. That’s disgusting.” Harry scoffs, looking around the table for backup and finding nothing. “And you stuck it right in Buck’s food! While he’s eating!” 

“I don’t care.” Buck shrugs, in frighteningly exact unison with Eddie’s flippant “He doesn’t care.”

“Harry, this isn’t weird for them. You know this.” Hen shakes her head with a sigh. “Even before they were dating, this falls so low on the weird behavior list – although, Buck, you used to be the one sticking your hands in all the food.”

“Hey, I’m only sticking my hands in Buck’s food.” Eddie protests. “Not all the food.”

“And I still am the one sticking my hands in all the food because I’m the one making all the food.” Buck amends. “But my hands are always washed and very clean, I promise.”

“As long as you’re not licking your fingers and putting them right back into the food like Eddie is, I am happy that you’re cooking.” Harry leans back in his chair, crossing his arms.

“Again, I’m only doing that to Buck’s food.” Eddie shrugs, reaching back to Buck’s plate for another stolen swipe of icing. “He’s used to it. It’s a standing invitation.”

“Yeah. His fingers have been in my mouth plenty of times, so my plate is nothing.”

Buck freezes as soon as the words leave him, landing with varying levels of disgust and exasperation amongst the rest of 118. Eddie blinks at him, equally stunned for a brief moment, before his shoulders loosen and he lets out an amused snort. He retracts his hand, raising his chocolate-covered index finger to his lips to clean it off with a smug smile.

“I did not need that visual.” Hen sighs, standing from the table. “I can’t believe we got more peace when you two were both supposedly straight.”

Eddie makes an offended noise from around his finger, pulling it from his lips with a comedic ‘pop.’ Buck kind of wants to die, but he also can’t help but revel in the sudden rush of every fucking time he’s had Eddie’s fingers in his mouth. Long and slender and so stupidly pretty, they’re so easy for Buck to swallow and suck on when he needs something in his mouth while Eddie is fucking him. He’ll push his lips past every knuckle until he’s gagging, bobbing his head to pantomime a blowjob while Eddie teases him. He loves when they’re shoved into his mouth, pressed against his tongue in twos and threes and fours to keep him quiet, and when they feed him the come that missed his mouth after Eddie comes on his face. He especially loves it when he gets them wet with his spit and then feels them press against his hole, the drag not yet slick enough but so goddamn hot. Sometimes, he even gets to watch Eddie use his mouth to soak his fingers before prepping himself, making Buck beg to touch him as he waits his turn.

His thought spiral doesn’t help his current case at the firehouse dinner table, left staring with a parted mouth at Eddie’s hand. He’s long past keeping it strictly professional, the rest of the team knows them better than that, but he does have some shreds of dignity that he’d like to maintain.

“Never come near me with your hands again, Eddie.” Harry pleads, mildly horrified. “I – I never wanted to know where they’ve been in this much detail.”

“Hey, these are healing hands!” Eddie says, barely concealing another laugh. “Healing hands that are washed very thoroughly in case you do need me to use them.”

Ravi cringes, following Hen towards the dishwasher to load his empty plate beside hers. “Why does everything sound sexual now?”

“Alright, get your minds out of the gutter.” Chimney instructs in his jokingly put-upon captain voice. Leaning over to Buck, he snaps his fingers in front of his face. “You too, Buckley. While it is very uncomfortable to know what you’re thinking about, you made some really fucking good chocolate cake, so. I’ll live with it.”

“It was really good, Buck.” Eddie praises, so genuine and so knowing. He arches his brow once, the hint of a smirk flitting across his face as he stands from his chair, brushing his hand over Buck’s shoulder as he leaves to clean up his plate.

“I –” Buck tries, fails, and gives up. “Okay.”

Chimney nods, shoveling in his last bite of cake before leaving Buck alone at the table with his wildly inappropriate thoughts. “It is okay, Buck. You’ll get ‘em next time”

Buck’s starting to think he might agree with Hen on this one.

******

By the time their shift is over and Buck is climbing into the passenger seat of Eddie’s truck, he’s thought about Eddie’s deft fingers enough to send him into desperate overdrive. Over the course of his life, he’s always had a hard time shifting his focus away from the things that bring him the most joy in the moment. His affinity for fun facts often stems from an unshakeable need to learn everything about whatever topic his brain latches onto that day, integrating whatever he finds interesting into any window of opportunity in conversation. Firefighting gives him the same feeling and drive – nothing is ever the same on the job, which makes each day interesting, and he gets to help people alongside the people who he enjoys being around most. He’s passionate about his job and he’s passionate about his 118 family.

Sex always existed in the same realm as his other passions. The high of connection and physicality was often quick but strong, leaving him chasing the feeling over and over again. With Eddie, though, the fixation takes on a new dimension. Sex is no longer just sex, it’s better. It’s time spent with Eddie, words shared with Eddie, intimacy created with Eddie, and connection built with Eddie. Eddie is truly what he’s most passionate about overall, and adding sex to that equation means that he cares more about it than ever before… which is really saying something.

He’s in love. That’s what he’s saying.

The consequence of being in love with Eddie is that he can barely think of anything other than Eddie’s fingers. Making it through work is difficult enough, and his restraint crumbles the instant they’re alone. The need to satisfy his fixation burns so strongly that he knows he won’t be a functioning member of society until he tells his partner what he wants.

Eddie’s talking as he pulls out onto the road, giving him suggestions about grocery shopping that go in one ear and out the other. “...We could stop on the way home to save us a trip tomorrow, but –” 

“I – I need to suck you.”

“Buck, I –” Eddie laughs, a cut-off little sound that’s breathier than his grocery ramblings. “We’ve tried road head before and agreed that we’re too old for that. Can you wait ‘til we get home?”

“No, um. Not your dick – not that I don’t want to suck your dick, but that’s not… that’s not what I mean.” Buck licks over his lips, eyes flicking to where Eddie’s hands are wrapped around the steering wheel. “Right now.”

When Buck doesn’t have all of the words despite knowing what he needs, Eddie seamlessly shoulders the job of interpretation and delivery. “Oh, I see. Okay. As long as you’re good and you don’t touch yourself ‘til we’re home.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll be good.” Buck’s voice cracks with a whine as Eddie doesn’t take his eyes off of the road, extending his right hand until his thumb cradles the bottom of Buck’s chin. Two fingertips press gently against the seal of his lips and he yields instantly, enveloping them in the wet heat of his mouth.

The urgency of his need settles into a pleasant hum, but the intensity of it triples. He gets lost in the sensation of the weight of Eddie’s fingers on his tongue, unabashedly sucking them past the second knuckle. Instinct prompts him to move his mouth up and down his fingers, saliva gathering at the corners of his mouth as he sets a greedy, wanton rhythm. Would he also love to suck Eddie’s cock? Absolutely. But the unique control of Eddie’s fingers is particularly heady – he could curl his fingers into Buck’s cheek, tighten his grip on his chin, add more fingers and spread his mouth wide – all while his left hand stays on the wheel and drives them safely back home.

“Jesus, Buck.” Eddie curses. Buck meets his eyes now, finding them dark and laser-focused on him while they wait at a red light. He can’t help but put on a little show, taking Eddie’s fingers deeper and faster just to remind him of how well his throat opens for him. “You’re gonna make me crash the goddamn car.”

Buck hums, pleased at the effect he has on Eddie even when he’s being entirely self-gratifying. The light changes to green, clearly too soon for Eddie’s liking. He barely manages to rip himself away from the obscene show in the passenger seat, stepping on the gas with a lurch. The sudden forward movement knocks Eddie’s fingers against the back of Buck’s throat, nearly triggering his gag reflex. With steadying breaths through his nose, Buck breathes through the feeling, swallowing his fingers further.

“Fuck.” Eddie hisses, and one glance at his lap confirms that he’s well past being a little hot and bothered. “You wanna be fucked from behind with my fingers in your mouth, hm? Or you could ride me while I choke you a little… I know you love that.”

Buck finally lets his fingers slip from his mouth as Eddie turns into their driveway, lips parted and panting like he’d swallow them down again – which he would. “Both. Please.”

Eddie nods, throwing the truck in park. “Whatever you need, baby.”

Spit

The call at the golf course is pretty routine in its execution, though it’s not every day that you see a middle-aged man stuck in a tree after he climbed it to retrieve his favorite golf ball. The man’s ego was bruised more than his body, and they didn’t even have to ruin the green by driving the ladder truck across the course. All it took was an air cushion beneath him and the threat of Buck having to carry him down for the threat of perceived emasculation to win out over fear. Now, almost back at the nearby road where they parked, Buck follows Eddie and Hen to the ambulance as they debrief.

Eddie has not stopped laughing since they made it out of earshot of the “rescued” golfer. “Oh, god, the look on his face when Chim told you to help him down, Buck! I’ve seen cats stuck at the top of trees look less afraid than he did!”

“Yeah, don’t think he wanted his buddies to watch something even more embarrassing than being stuck in a tree in the first place.” Buck grins. “But I would’ve loved to make a tiny crack in his fragile masculinity as payback for calling us out here for that.”

Hen chuckles. “I mean, I get it. You’re pretty enough to strike fear into the hearts of most people, Buck. We’ve got Exhibit A right here.”

Eddie scoffs as she gestures towards him. “I’ve never been afraid of Buck.”

“That’s not what I said.” Hen corrects. “I know you were once afraid of how pretty Buck is. You still might be.”

“Yeah, Eddie. Are you afraid of how pretty I am?” Buck eggs him on, earning the most exasperated eye roll he’s seen from a Diaz who isn’t currently fifteen years old and angsty.

“You know I’m not.” Eddie answers simply, voice a bit too low and knowing for it to go unnoticed by Hen, who raises an eyebrow in Buck’s direction.

“Yeah, I should’ve clarified that you’re definitely still scared of how pretty Eddie is.”

“I – I’m not scared of my partner, Hen! I just –” Buck opens and closes his mouth, searching for the right words. “Sometimes I feel like I’m going to explode if I look at him, but –”

Hen cringes, patting his arm placatingly. “Okay, well, I asked for that one. I’m glad you two have such a… vibrant relationship.”

“You did start this conversation.” Eddie points out, chuckling lightly before turning his head to spit onto the road.

“No, Eddie, come on!” Hen exclaims, exasperated. “God, you work with someone so much that you get too comfortable and forget that they’re just a man.”

Eddie immediately looks to her, confusion knitting his brows together. “Hen, what? What did I do?”

She sighs, shaking her head. “You just spit in the middle of the road. That’s such a man thing. It’s gross. Do you want to see people spitting in public?”

Yes, Buck very much wants to see one person spit in public. Or in private. He’d quite like to see that one person spit on him. They’ve done that more than a few times – Buck loves it when Eddie spits on his hole before he preps him, or when he spits on Eddie’s cock to wet it. Buck’s even begged for Eddie to spit on his face or in his mouth, particularly after he comes on one or the other. He supposes it’s in the same general ballpark as their mutual thing for marking each other up; there’s something primal and possessive in the way their saliva claims each other as their own.

In spite of her chastising, Eddie quickly realizes that Hen isn’t too torn up about it. He bumps their shoulders together as they walk, and the motion knocks Hen into Buck just enough to snap him back from his thoughts. “Okay, fair point. That might be a bad habit I picked up in the ring, honestly.”

Oh, god. Eddie’s fighting days live in a deep, dark fantasy land hidden away in the recesses of Buck’s brain. The idea shouldn’t be hot – Buck knows it was an outlet for real emotional pain, and he knows Eddie is glad he left those days behind him. But the tiniest, most pathetic part of him wonders what it would be like to watch Eddie spar and then fuck the rest of the adrenaline out of him.

Buck’s panic over the idea of Eddie spitting out blood during a match – blood that he’s also spit from his own mouth, holy shit – leads to the exact wrong segue choice. “That’s not your worst bad habit.”

“Oh, shit!” Hen laughs in surprise, glancing between the two of them. “I didn’t mean to start something.”

Eddie’s grinning when he meets Buck’s eyes, a hint of challenge behind them. “Be careful, Buck. You piss in the shower.”

Hen’s jaw drops as she whips around to face Buck. “Excuse me?”

“I –” Buck’s face floods with warmth, and he glares at Eddie. “Not the ones here! And not, like, regularly. It all goes to the same place anyway, and when you’re really tired, it’s just one less step to complete before bed. But that’s – that’s not the point! I was going to be cute, you know.”

“Oh, were you?” Eddie teases, unconvinced. 

“Yeah, I was.” Buck huffs. “I was going to make a joke about you stealing the blankets at night –”

“You’re just as bad as I am!”

“ – or that you steal all of my favorite pajamas –”

“What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours.”

“ – but now I have to tell Hen that you leave empty water glasses all around the house.” Buck crosses his arms, knowing his accusation falls flat. Eddie’s not bad at cleaning up after himself – raising a kid and living an army-regimented and Diaz-parents-regimented lifestyle shaped him into a pretty neat person. But Buck’s grasping at straws, desperately trying to one-up his partner so it’s not obvious that he’s getting hot flashes over him spitting.

“Oh, how dare you, Eddie!” Hen gasps, exaggeratedly scandalized. “That’s inexcusable.”

Eddie sighs dramatically. “I know, I know. I’ll beg for my forgiveness, but I understand if it’s just too much to look past.”

“I’m –” Buck swallows, suddenly thinking about begging for his own forgiveness, so long as it gets him on his knees in front of Eddie. He jerks his head toward the fire truck, mouth so ironically dry. “I’m gonna grab some water. Be right back.”

He doesn’t wait around to see how they respond, but he should’ve known better. Not two seconds later, Eddie bounds into his personal space and sets a gentle hand on his lower back.

“Buck. What’s going on?” Eddie studies him closely as Buck sighs, stopping just behind the truck. He chooses not to say anything, but lets Eddie look at him just long enough for realization to smooth out the wrinkle in his brow. “You’ve gotta tell me or I’ll worry all day, baby. Is your brain somewhere dark right now, or is it…” Eddie licks over his lips, glancing around them. “...somewhere private?”

“Uh – I – yeah. Private. Definitely somewhere private.” Buck nods, flushing high on his cheeks. He’s not embarrassed that Eddie knows he’s turned on, he’s embarrassed that his partner had to check in on him because he couldn’t hide his want in a natural way. “I’m good, Eddie, I – I’m just trying really hard not to get hard.”

“Okay. Good.” Eddie says, voice low. “So, what did it for you?”

Buck groans. “Do you really have to ask? Now? When I just told you I’m trying not to get hard at work?”

“Well, if I know, then I’ll try not to do it again.” Eddie blinks at him innocently. “At work.”

Buck rolls his eyes. “Your existence is a turn-on, so. Can’t do anything about that.”

Eddie narrows his eyes at him. “You only get this restless when it’s something you have to ask for, so it’s not in our usual routine.”

“Hey, don’t do this! Don’t mind read me here!”

“I wouldn’t have to if you just told me.”

“I –” Buck cuts himself off, restarting. “Look. I promise I’ll tell you at home, okay? Right now, I’m really trying to be good and not think about it.”

Eddie looks at him for another long moment before nodding. “As long as you promise you’re really okay, and it is just an unfortunate bout of horniness.”

Buck softens, offering Eddie a reassuring smile. “Yeah, Eddie, I promise. And it’s never unfortunate, you know. Just… unfortunately timed.”

“Right.” Eddie chuckles, grabbing his water bottle. “Only twelve more hours to go.”

******

When Buck finally tells Eddie, his timing is better, but not perfect.

“I was thinking about you spitting. On me.”

Eddie drops the clean sweatpants back into the laundry basket beneath him. “Jesus, Buck.”

“I promised that I’d tell you.” Buck bites back a laugh. “So… I told you.”

“While we’re folding laundry?”

“I mean, it’s not like Christopher is home.” Buck hangs the final button-down in the closet before turning to Eddie. “Are you gonna do anything about it?”

Eddie nods, a slow, lazy raise and fall of his head that reads more like a full body scan of Buck from across the room. “Yeah, I will. Take off all your clothes, Buck.”

Buck gapes at him, frozen. “What?”

He almost expects Eddie to play up the stern teasing, always willing to slide into a role of control when Buck wants him to take the thinking out of his hands. Instead, he smiles so tenderly that Buck’s heart flips in response, feeling even more exposed under his gaze. Eddie’s hands fall to his own waist, grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and pulling it over his head in a graceful example. 

“You heard me, baby. Clothes off and in the hamper.” Eddie tosses his t-shirt in the empty hamper. “It is laundry day.”

“O-okay, yeah.” Buck complies easily, stripping on autopilot as his focus stays locked on Eddie doing the same. 

As Eddie kicks off his boxers, he finds Buck’s stare and huffs out a fond laugh. “See something you like?”

Buck nods, mouth dry. “You know I do.”

“Yeah, you’re already half hard just from looking at me.” Eddie says, and maybe Buck should feel a flash of shame or embarrassment from being so easy, but Eddie sounds almost overwhelmed. There’s no room for Buck to wonder if he’s teasing him because Eddie talks like he’s still stunned that Buck craves him this deeply. “Climb up on the bed for me. On your back.”

Buck does as he asks, settling against the pillows and instinctively opening his legs to accommodate Eddie as he follows suit. “Do you have plans for me, Eddie?” 

He knows Eddie has plans for him.

“Mm, I think you’ll like them.” Eddie smiles, running his hands down Buck’s thighs and watching goosebumps erupt in his wake. “Can I fuck you?”

“Yes.” Buck says in a rush of air, already melting into the mattress. 

“Thought so.” Eddie folds himself smaller, lowering himself down between Buck’s spread legs. “Can I eat you out first? Get you all wet?”

“Oh, fuck.” Buck moans, instantly hit with the intention behind Eddie’s plans. “Yes, please – Eddie –” He plants his feet on the mattress, unabashedly spreading himself open in an eager invitation.

“You know I love you this way.” Eddie murmurs, almost to himself. The privacy of the thought, like it wasn’t meant to leave his mouth, sends a shiver up Buck’s spine and draws his legs open wider. He’s always pliant and open for Eddie, yielding to him like it’s what his body is meant to do. When Eddie confesses his want like he used to confess his sins, Buck can’t help but act out of reverence. Eddie’s sanctified him more times than he can count, rushing in and making him new again when he feels the farthest from being pure or alive. If his body is a place for Eddie to find an echo of holiness, then he’ll welcome his kneeling body between his thighs.

“The view’s not so bad on my end, either.” Buck smiles as Eddie looks up from between his legs, hair falling onto his forehead. His eyes are dark with want but bright with happiness, staying locked on Buck’s as he turns his face and presses a slow kiss to the meat of his inner thigh. Buck’s breath escapes him in a shaky rush of air, the anticipation making his head fuzzy with arousal.

Eddie grips his legs, holding him open as he pulls back just an inch. Buck almost complains, urging him to stop teasing, stop waiting, but true to form, Eddie surprises him with a long-held plan. He watches, jaw-dropped and rapt, as Eddie spits directly on his hole. 

“Oh, fuck.” Buck curses, back arching as Eddie presses his thumb against the ring of muscle, dipping just inside him. The drag is still dry, the pad of his thumb barely spreading the slight wetness of his saliva. “Eddie –”

“I know, I know.” He soothes. “I’ve got you, Buck.”

Eddie’s just as eager as he is methodical. He knows Buck loves it when he flattens his tongue against him, alternating between slow, long licks and open-mouthed kisses. Buck can’t keep his hips still, letting Eddie hold him firmly against the mattress. He knows Eddie will take care of him, his fingertips digging into his skin as he works his mouth messily between his legs.

“Fucking – oh, shit, Eddie –” Buck pants, moaning high and long as Eddie dips his tongue inside him, enough of a tease that he starts to imagine more. The feeling of Eddie’s cock stretching him wide isn’t far away; unlike the guiltiest fantasies of years’ past, Buck can grasp onto the imagined sensation and anticipate exactly what euphoria he’ll experience when it’s realized. For now, his hands flit between gripping the sheets and tangling in Eddie’s silky hair, tugging him further into his body. He can’t help taking most of Eddie’s breath. He’s greedy for all of him.

“Buck, baby, you’re so good.” Eddie groans, chest heaving with effort as he pulls back, air filling his lungs again. His chin glistens with saliva, lips pink and wet and spread into an awestruck grin. Seeing Eddie look at him like he amazes him – amazes him at his messiest, at his most uninhibited – still makes him shudder with emotion. Eddie looks at him like he wants to give him everything, and Buck is finally learning how to let him. 

“Need you, need you – yeah.” Buck hisses out as Eddie climbs up the length of his body, hovering atop him as he dips and seals their mouths together. He whines into Eddie’s mouth as he drops his hips, nudging their cocks together in a slow grind. There’s not enough friction and the fierce desire pooling in his stomach needs release, and Buck tells him that. He begs, words half swallowed by broken kisses, for Eddie to fuck him, to fill him up, to get him wet –

Mercifully, Eddie finds the lube and douses his fingers in it, kneeling back between his legs. He makes quick work of stretching Buck around his fingers, knowing that his patience has run thin. Buck loves variety, and Eddie quickly learned that sometimes sex looks long, drawn-out, and teasing, while other times require rapid relief and release. Sometimes, it even does both. With the way Buck is turning his head into the pillow, unable to stay still as he squirms with the anticipatory build of pleasure, they both know that today’s orgasm is a fast chase.

“Eddie, god –” Buck groans as Eddie spits in his hand once he's stretched, giving his cock a few slick strokes. “You have to – you have to get inside me, Eddie, you have to fuck me –”

“So eager.” Eddie shakes his head fondly, tapping the head of his dick against Buck’s clenching hole. Buck practically sends his hips skyrocketing into the air, trying to catch Eddie’s cock on his rim and urge him inside. Eddie steadies his body as soon as he moves, but takes mercy on him and pushes inside. “Jesus, Buck. Shit.”

“Yeah.” Buck sighs, blissed out as his body adjusts. “So good, Eds. So good. Love how you feel.”

“You open up like you’re made for me.” Eddie says into a moan, rolling his hips with increasing speed. “God, you look so obscene, baby.”

“C’mon, fuck me harder.” Buck goads, meeting Eddie’s thrusts with his own. “I know you can give it, and you know I can take it.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh but folds himself back over top of Buck’s body, angling his hips forward until Buck’s breath catches on a gasped whine. “There you go. Fuck, you’re so – god, Buck. Gonna fuck you so good.”

“You are? I – oh.” Buck’s tease falls off his lips as Eddie nails his prostate again, steadying his weight above him and setting a punishing pace. “Oh, fuck – fuck, Eds – g-god, Eddie –”

“Oh, shit – is – fuck – is that what you wanted?” Eddie’s mouth drops open, eyes pinching shut a burst of pleasure. “Buck – you –”

“Mhm, yeah, yeah –” Buck babbles, every nerve ending alight as Eddie knocks him up the mattress, a sheen of sweat breaking out over his toned arms. “Fuck, you’re fucking sexy – what the fuck, how do you – oh – how do you look like this –”

Eddie just sighs out a fond, breathless laugh again, answering his rambling with a deeper grind of his hips. Buck swears he can feel him in his goddamn throat.

“Fuck, Eddie.” Buck writhes against the pillow, little punched out breaths escaping his lips in panted ah-ah-ahs. “Fuck, so good –”

“Yeah? You’re so fucking wet.” Eddie grits out, leaning down to meet Buck in a sloppy kiss. “So good, baby, you feel so good.”

“Don’t – oh – don’t stop.” Buck pleads, knowing Eddie won’t. He’s so close, and he wants Eddie closer, so he digs his fingers into the strong planes of his shoulders and pulls him flush against his chest. The angle alters the angle of Eddie’s movements, rolling grinds of his hips pushing him deeper. Eddie spends a few moments working a mark into his neck, but he can’t keep from moaning long enough to make a lasting bruise. Buck wishes he could kiss him, everything’s better when he’s kissing Eddie, he can kiss him –

Eddie whimpers into the kiss, licking into Buck’s mouth until he can’t keep his jaw from falling slack. “‘M gonna come, Buck, are you? Are you close? You’ve gotta be close, baby.”

Buck nods frantically, matching Eddie’s erratic thrusts in a desperate race towards the edge of pleasure. “I’m – I’m almost there, I – fuck – I need –”

Lifting his head just enough to lock eyes with Buck, Eddie searches for any hesitation. Buck reads him instantly, sticking his tongue out of his mouth and looking up at him through his lashes.

Eddie spits, saliva landing on the flat of Buck’s tongue. Maybe it’s gross, but he would take anything Eddie would give him just to feel close to him. For not the first time in his life, Buck’s hit with the gravity of the love he has for Eddie. He needs him so viscerally that swallowing his spit is an act of reverence. It keeps Eddie with him, takes him inside his very body, and melds them together irreversibly. Eddie says “what’s mine is yours” and he means it; he’ll let Buck take his saliva, take his blood, take his breath, and Buck will keep it safe and loved and cherished. 

With a shuddering moan and a choked-out warning, Eddie spills warm and wet within him, pressing “I love you” into the crook of his neck. His hand slips between their bodies, encircling Buck’s cock in a tight fist. Buck barely notices when he comes, and not because it’s an unsatisfying orgasm. He’s so adrift in the euphoria of intimacy that the pleasure doesn’t rise and fall, it merely overwhelms and consumes until Eddie brings him back to earth with gentle pets through his hair.

“Did you know,” Buck starts, regaining his bearings by staring at a hairline crack in the ceiling. “That I’d, like, crawl inside your skin if I could?”

Eddie snorts. “Yeah, Buck, I do know that. The feeling’s mutual, but I’m not sure what that says about us.”

“I just… I sometimes wish I could be in your body. Not like a body swap, but being in your body with you. That’s how… that’s how close I want you.”

“I’ve thought about that before.” Eddie hums. “Even before we were dating, which is kind of embarrassing to admit. If I had you that close, I could keep you safe.”

“Yeah.” Buck murmurs, grounded by the shapes that Eddie traces along his arm. “I think that’s why I like it when we fuck a little dirty or try something kinky. It feels safe and real… and yeah, I’m possessive, because I wouldn’t want any of this with anyone else.”

Buck feels Eddie nod against him. “Yeah, same. Not to mention that I don’t think I would’ve thought to try half of this with anyone else.”

“I’ve corrupted you.” Buck says, overly pleased.

“No.” Eddie chuckles. “You’ve opened my eyes, I guess. You’ve always been good at doing that.”

Buck practically melts into the mattress, turned to soup by Eddie’s affection. “It’s mutually beneficial, trust me.”

“Well.” Eddie smiles. “Do you want a plug for any reason? I might just be reading into what you’re saying, but –”

“Yeah, um. Please.” Buck agrees eagerly, accepting a sweet kiss as an apology for Eddie having to gently pull out of him and climb off of the bed. “You know, if biology worked differently, I would be so pregnant by now.”

“Buck.” Eddie laughs, rooting around in their drawer for Buck’s favorite purple silicone plug. “I mean, you wouldn’t be the only one.”

“Oh, I know.” Buck grins, all teeth. “I’m already thinking about how much I love it when you ride me while I’m plugged.”

“If only I wasn’t an old man.” Eddie sighs wistfully, kneeling back on the bed. “Open – yeah, there you go, baby.”

Buck sucks in a breath as Eddie presses the blunt end of the toy against his hole, sliding it in until the base is flush with his body. The glide is made easy by Eddie’s come, and it stretches him comfortably. “I’m older than you are.”

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten.”

“Dick.” Buck swats at Eddie, sitting up so he can reach him and drag him into a slow kiss. “Do you actually want to fuck again? We can work up to it slowly.”

“Mm, maybe.” Eddie moves to settle next to Buck against the headboard, curling easily into his chest when he raises his arm. “It would be a shame to keep you plugged and not do anything about it.”

Buck shivers, breath catching in his throat. “Y-yeah. Yeah.”

Eddie closes his eyes, a smirk sliding onto relaxed lips. “You’re already getting hard again, aren’t you?”

“No.” Buck defends, as if his spent dick isn’t twitching in his lap. “Like you just said, we’re old men.”

“Alright, firehose.”

“That has – that has nothing to do with my refractory period, and you know that!”

“Okay. You’re not hard, then.” Eddie doesn’t open his eyes.

Buck falters. “I – I’m not.”

“Real convincing, bud.”

“Not yet.” Buck self-corrects, but he’s smiling and everything feels so light. “Call me ‘bud’ again and I might come.”

Eddie snorts. “Now that’s firehose talking.”

“Well –” Buck sighs, turning his face into Eddie’s hair. “Yeah.”

“You’re cute.”

“I’m in love with you.”

“I know, Buck. It’s mutual.”

“Are you falling asleep?” Buck mumbles against Eddie’s head, eyelids drooping.

“Not yet.” Eddie pauses. “In the same way that you’re not getting hard.”

“Right.” Buck yawns. “We can go again when we wake up.”

Buck feels Eddie nod against him as he drifts off. “Good compromise, bud.”

He’s not ashamed to admit that his dick jumps again. Eddie tends to have that effect.