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pairofraggedclawsFandom: 9-1-1
Rating: E
Word count: 3897
Characters/pairings: Buck/Eddie, minor appearances by Maddie, Chim, Hen, and Karen
Summary:
“So, no shots for the grenade in the guy’s leg,” Eddie says. “No shots for the earthquake and climbing around in a high rise that was trying to tip over. But one little fire and you’re cleaning this place out of vodka?”
“Tequila,” Buck says. “It’s tradition! We’re firefighters.”
or, the 118 has a tradition; Buck and Eddie put their own spin on it. (That spin being alleyway sex. BTW, this is set in S2)
Buck explains to Eddie, shouting to be heard over the chaos near the bar, that this is standard procedure. First fire means shots, and if you saved someone (for the broadest definition possible of saved) it means more shots. And it also means shots for everyone else who was there for your first fire.
Buck leans over the bar as far as he can so the bartender can hear him. She gives him an are-you-sure look, raising a sculpted eyebrow, and Buck nods, holding up fingers to confirm. A lot of fingers.
“Oh God,” Eddie says, unheard to everyone including himself, as the bartender puts down a tray, lining up shot glasses to fill up, one after the other. She has to open a new bottle to finish all of them.
“Thanks!” Buck yells, and he’s taking the tray, grinning at Eddie and gesturing with his head towards the table they managed to snag.
The noise lessens considerably as they get away from the bar.
“So, no shots for the grenade in the guy’s leg,” Eddie says. “No shots for the earthquake and climbing around in a high rise that was trying to tip over. But one little fire and you’re cleaning this place out of vodka?”
“Tequila,” Buck says. “It’s tradition! We’re firefighters.”
“We won’t be if we all die of alcohol poisoning,” Eddie says, which Buck either doesn’t hear or chooses to ignore.
Back at the table, Eddie slides into the empty bench seat. The table’s filling up. Hen and Chim are there, of course, a woman next to Hen who he assumes must be Karen, and another woman it takes Eddie a second to place.
“Hey, Maddie,” Buck says, dragging her into a hug. She’s tiny compared to him, her head coming up to his shoulder. “I didn’t know if you were gonna come.”
“I didn’t know either,” Maddie says with a laugh on the nervous side of giddy. “But Chimney insisted that it wasn’t an occasion to miss.”
“It’s not!” Chimney says, helping Buck hand the shots around so that everyone has three apiece, except for Eddie, who gets five. “You should have seen it when we did this for Buck. I’ve never seen a grown man – ouch!” He jerks in his seat. “Fuck you, Buck.”
“Maddie does not need to hear that story,” Buck says.
“I’ll take your word for it,” Maddie says.
“I kinda wanna know,” Eddie says. “I haven’t seen Buck have any shame so far, so it must be bad.” Buck makes a face at him, adorably.
“If he doesn’t want to tell me, it must be worse than everything I already know, which,” Maddie wrinkles her nose. “Yikes.”
“I am right here,” Buck says, sliding in next to Eddie. “and I can hear you.”
“Just like we could hear you when – “ Hen says.
“Anyway,” Buck says loudly, putting an arm around Eddie’s shoulders. “This night is about Eddie! Let’s focus on Eddie!”
“Great idea,” Chimney says. “Eddie, do you have any embarrassing stories about yourself you’d like to share? We could use some fresh material.”
“Okay, okay, okay,” Hen says. “Come on, Chim, let’s have some respect for tradition.” Buck nods with great sincerity in Eddie’s peripheral vision. “Once Eddie’s had some shots, I’m sure he’ll be ready to give us some dirt.” She grins like a shark and Karen, for some reason, gets a soft look in her eyes and kisses Hen on the cheek.
“No,” Eddie says, mildly petrified. “No dirt. I’m very boring, I promise.”
“We’ll see,” Hen says. “Okay, people, get your first shot ready! Not you, Eddie, don’t you know what a toast is? To Eddie, who fought his first fire with the 118 and did us proud!”
“To Eddie,” everyone choruses. There in a loud, humid bar with his shirt sticking to his back, Eddie experiences a feeling he hasn’t for years, a feeling that grows, warm, in his chest. Something like belonging. Something like the knowledge: these aren’t just words, they mean it, all of them. They’re proud of him.
Buck takes his hand away to swallow his shot down with professional ease and only the slightest wince. Eddie’s shoulder seems to be catching a chill in the absence of his hand.
“Oh God, tequila,” Karen says, grimacing.
“Eddie,” Hen says, “you saved two people today, so now you take two shots, go.”
“Ahhh,” Eddie says. “okay.” He’s got some kind of muscle memory left, throws them back as quick as he can, not that it saves him. “A la chingada, that’s really bad without lime.”
“Oh, shit, I meant to get stuff for these,” Buck says.
“I can grab it,” Chimney says.
Eddie, tequila hitting his belly, sways to bump his shoulder into Buck’s, the solid strong warmth of him.
“This,” Eddie says, “is a lot of tequila.”
“You’ve only done two shots, you lightweight,” Buck says, smiling and bumping his shoulder back.
“It’s gonna be a lot,” Eddie says. “Yeah, I’m a lightweight, when do you think I’ve had time to go out drinking?”
“Well, now you do,” Buck says. Eddie smiles at him, because yeah, now he does. It’s been a while now, a few months with Carla to help, and Eddie still can’t quite believe it, always waiting for the rug to be ripped out from under him. But every day, it keeps being real. He has time and space to do things, and still know Christopher is okay, and taken care of.
Not to mention people he actually wants to go out and spend time with.
“Yeah,” Eddie says. He bumps Buck again and stays there, shoulder pressed against Buck’s.
“Okay, we’ve got lime, we’ve got salt, take what you want,” Chimney says, sitting down with another tray, bearing a bowl of lime wedges and several mismatched salt shakers. “And get your next shot ready!”
“Oh, gimme,” Eddie says. Buck doesn’t take anything for himself, just passes Eddie what he wants and then settles back in with his shoulder leaning into Eddie’s.
“This next shot,” Chimney says, “is to the 118, to the team. We do good work, we’re gonna keep doing good work, and we’re gonna always help each other. To the 118!”
“The 118,” Eddie says with everyone. He licks the salt from his hand, downs the shot, and bites into the lime. So much better.
Around then is when the tipsy hits, and everything starts feeling really fucking nice. Christopher is safe at home, there’s nothing at all Eddie needs to take care of. And without it being said, he knows that if he gets too drunk, these people will be looking out for him. Eddie physically relaxes in a way he hasn’t in about two years, soaking in the sound of conversation and laughter around him. He feels so light he might float away like a balloon.
Chimney tells a story about his early days, when he just started working the ambulance. It’s incredibly gross and Eddie can’t stop laughing. Chimney takes another shot; his gestures are getting more expansive, but his voice stays totally clear. When he starts going into detail about different shades of puke, Karen lunges across Hen to try and slap a hand over his mouth.
“Wanna do another?” Buck says, and a shiver runs freely down the back of Eddie’s neck at the feeling of Buck’s voice in his ear. Eddie turns, angling himself towards Buck and his shy, inviting smile. Buck put his arm behind Eddie at some point without Eddie realizing – not around Eddie, just along the back of the booth. It’s all very – very.
“Sure,” Eddie says. “I still have two mandated shots, after all.” Eddie salts his hand; Buck nods to go, and Eddie licks his hand, takes the shot, fumbles for a lime he forgot to find ahead of time.
“Oh, here,” Buck says. He doesn’t hand the wedge over, just holds it out. Eddie, bitterness on his tongue, just leans forward and gets his teeth in it, pulling back from Buck’s hand with it in his mouth.
“Thanks,” Eddie says. His brain’s about thirty seconds behind the rest of him, and now it starts up a little presentation for him of what just happened, Eddie biting the lime right out of Buck’s hand. Eddie’s not sure what came over him. He thinks he’d like to do it again and find out.
“No problem,” Buck says. He’s smiling at Eddie, and his arm is radiating heat behind Eddie’s shoulders. Eddie thinks there might have been a reason he was avoiding contact with that arm, some sort of stiff politeness of the variety that governs too much of his life – but he really isn’t that interested in what it was. Not when relaxing back into Buck’s arm feels so incredibly good, his presence and warmth. Not when the pressure makes Buck move his arm fully onto Eddie’s shoulders, and then, well, Eddie needs to slide a little closer so Buck can drape it more comfortably – and then Buck can wrap his big hand around Eddie’s shoulder.
“So,” Eddie says, can’t think of anything to say, and laughs at himself, ducking his head. He feels like he’s about sixteen. He’s definitely acting like he’s sixteen. Can’t help it, his skin tingling with awareness of where he and Buck are touching, lips tingling with how close they are to each other.
Eddie thinks this maybe should be weird for him, that casual weight on his shoulders like Buck belongs there. Maybe it should be weird, being this obviously flirty, with Buck, at a table with all their co-workers and Buck’s sister. But it just – isn’t, and that’s not the alcohol. Eddie knows from experience that drinking tends to accentuate discomfort for him, not lessen it. Something is happening, right now, here, with him and Buck, Buck, all his brashness and bravado and big heart.
Eddie’s heart is beating fast, previously repressed memories coming to the surface - the first day of high school, Eddie a weedy awkward freshman staring at the quarterback and his big shoulders and his lethal flash of a smile and the urge to fight or flee rising in his throat. But he’s not scared now, and everyone else is just being normal in a way Eddie should have expected but didn’t.
(And Eddie thinks Buck would look pretty damn good in a letterman jacket.)
He can see it, when Chimney clocks how close together they are, when Hen does, the look they exchange, but it just feels safe. They aren’t making it weird. Maddie smiles at Buck teasingly and goes back to talking with Karen. Everyone knows, and it’s fine.
It makes Eddie bold, and he artlessly wriggles even closer to Buck so their sides, their thighs are pressed against each other fully. Buck is so fucking lanky, Eddie feels totally enclosed by his strong arm.
In a good way.
Eddie’s hand is on Buck’s thigh before the thought of it there even finishes, not doing anything, just resting there. He can feel Buck shift his weight, and his arm tightens around Eddie’s shoulders as he keeps talking to Hen, laughing and shaking his head and then nodding. Hen slides two shots over.
“What, no,” Eddie says.
“They’re for me,” Buck says. “Hen and Karen are a couple of quitters.”
“Tequila is my sworn enemy,” Hen says. “We both did the ritual ones, and now these are for you.”
Buck swallows one of them with seemingly no effort. “Cowards,” he says.
“No, you’re just terrifying,” Karen says. “You seriously are drinking those like they’re water.”
“Tequila isn’t that bad,” Buck says.
“Yeah, no, it is,” Hen says. Buck shrugs and does the last one.
“Tequila is definitely that bad,” Eddie says. “Does it not taste bad to you?”
“It doesn’t taste great or anything. Just doesn’t bother me.” Buck turns his head again to murmur directly into Eddie’s ear. “You gonna do your last one there?”
Eddie swallows. “Uh, yeah. Where’s the – oh.” He salts his hand, then performs a brow-furrowed investigation into the location of the shot. It’s a little hard to concentrate, sitting like this with Buck.
“I’ve got it,” Buck says, raising it in the hand not around Eddie’s shoulders. “And the lime.” His other hand, previously on Eddie’s shoulder, waves a lime wedge around near Eddie’s face. He smiles at Eddie, a question; Eddie ducks his head again, laughing. God, Buck really makes the shy teenager Eddie tried so hard to train out of himself rear his head. Especially the way Eddie has learned Buck smiles when he’s tipsy, like normal but somehow even brighter, his eyes on Eddie like he can’t stop looking.
Eddie makes himself look at Buck, though he can’t make himself stop smiling like an idiot. “Okay, you ready?”
“Ready,” Buck says lowly.
Eddie licks his hand, and when he raises his head, Buck is there with the shot, tipping it into his mouth for Eddie to swallow. Eddie turns his head, capturing the lime in Buck’s other hand. He grins at Buck around the lime.
“Jesus Christ, you two,” Hen says, though with affection.
“At least he didn’t lick the salt off Buck,” Chimney says, Maddie hiding laughter in his shoulder.
“He can if he wants to,” Buck says.
“I’m actually all done with my shots,” Eddie says. He strokes his thumb back and forth on Buck’s thigh. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom now.”
He gets himself up and walking away hears Buck say, “Uh, I actually – gotta break the seal.”
“Have fun, Evan,” Maddie calls in a teasing voice, and Buck, catching up to Eddie with a little skip, flips her off.
“Please never tell me which bathroom you defile,” Chimney says loudly. “I don’t need that kind of information.”
“Bye, Chimney,” Buck calls over his shoulder, and Eddie is grabbed by the hand, pulled down a hallway and through a door out into the sultry night, pressed against the brick outer wall of the bar, and thoroughly kissed.
Eddie makes a sound of surprise when his back hits the wall and then he’s kissing back, lost to the feeling of Buck all over him, his mouth and his hands and the whole long line of his body, pinning Eddie to the dirty wall. Eddie is normally a little fastidious about his clothes (his sisters make fun of him for this, sue him, when he’s not covered in soot or blood or vomit he likes to actually be clean) but right now he could care less. He might pull Buck down to the asphalt in a moment, amidst the cigarette butts and litter, if it means he can touch him more.
“God, Eddie,” Buck says, half a growl, and goes to town on Eddie’s neck, biting and sucking until Eddie’s breath is hitching in his chest, one hand gripping tight in Buck’s hair. Buck pulls back, lips shiny, and Eddie gets him by the waist, flipping them so Buck is the one against the wall. Eddie presses him between the brick and, well, a hard place, and kisses him into next week.
After a while Buck pulls away to gasp for breath, and Eddie bites his jaw, his neck, his collarbones until Buck makes an impatient sound and shoves him back just far enough to unbutton Eddie’s jeans and pull him out.
“Buck,” Eddie says roughly, arching into that broad hand that’s rough in all the right ways. He looks around a little frantically because it’s not like he’s been paying much attention to the surroundings, but the alleyway they’re in is dark and quiet except for the spillover of sound from the packed bar.
“Yeah,” Buck says, a moan more than an answer, and pushes Eddie back to pull out his own cock. He strokes it a few times, and Eddie watches, transfixed. Buck looks back at him with his head fallen back against the wall, face half illuminated by the sodium lights in the alley and half in shadow. Eddie gapes at him like an idiot. God, Buck makes a pretty picture, biting his lip as he works his hand, makes himself feel good.
Eddie can feel his face doing something unnameable and Buck flashes that grin again, the one that makes him crazy, half-shy even with his cock out and hard in some back alleyway. “Get over here,” Buck says, and Eddie does not need to be asked again.
Eddie means to kiss Buck as he erases the space between them, but then Buck has his big hand around both their cocks and all he can do is moan, “Oh, fuck,” his mouth an inch from Buck’s.
“Yeah?” Buck says, breathless and happy. Eddie clutches at his shoulders for dear life and nods a little frantically, hips jerking at the feeling of Buck’s cock against his.
Eddie doesn’t know who initiated it but they’re kissing again, and he has no idea how Buck is keeping his hand moving at the same time because all Eddie can do is kiss Buck desperately and hold on for the ride. Actually, Eddie might not know which way is up right now.
After they’ve kissed each other breathless and Eddie’s face is stinging pleasantly from the scrape of Buck’s stubble, Buck pulls back to drop his forehead to Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie must have been right about the attention required to do both because Buck’s hand goes from feeling amazing to fucking perfect.
“Fuck,” Eddie moans, “oh, fuck,” and he’s usually pretty restrained in bed – or, uh, against wall – but right now he just cannot keep quiet, and he is trying.
Buck laughs and says, “That feels good, huh?” and then his fingers are stroking over Eddie’s lips. Eddie doesn’t think, just opens his mouth for two of them, sucking on them a little desperately. It muffles the sounds Eddie still can’t stop making – a little.
“Christ,” Buck says fervently. It’s the sound of his voice, low and wrecked, and the feeling of that huge hand, and his cock, pressed to Eddie’s – Eddie can’t take it a second longer, and now he’s really moaning, full-volume around Buck’s fingers, over and over, arching into Buck’s hand, his cock, as he comes, thighs shaking with it. Buck curses frantically and Eddie can feel him come too, his cock pulsing against Eddie’s. Eddie’s whole body jerks with an aftershock like a bolt of lightning. He melts onto Buck, shivering with oversensitivity when their cocks press together again, and lets Buck’s fingers fall out of his mouth, panting.
“Fuck,” Eddie says, the only word he can currently think of, and discovers that Buck’s shoulder is an excellent pillow.
“Mhm,” Buck agrees.
“I guess we should go back in,” Eddie says reluctantly, after a moment of just breathing together in silence. “No one actually knows where we are, and it’s been a while.”
Buck laughs, bright, and takes Eddie’s jaw in one hand, still a little wet with Eddie’s spit, tilting his face up so Buck can kiss him. “Okay, so first of all,” Buck says when they separate. “I’m pretty sure everyone has a vague idea of where we are right now.”
“That’s not – whose fault is that, you followed me after like two seconds,” Eddie says defensively.
“Oh yeah, because you’re incredibly subtle,” Buck says, smiling at Eddie like he’s the best thing Buck has ever seen. “You, like, batted your eyes at me and then said you had to go to the bathroom.”
“I did not bat my eyes,” Eddie says, “actually.”
”Actually, you did,” Buck says.
“Actually,” Eddie says, and can’t go on when Buck brings a come-covered hand to his mouth and starts sucking his own fingers clean. Buck is definitely laughing at him now. “Uh, what was second of all?”
“Right,” Buck says, finishing with his hand. “It definitely hasn’t been a while. It’s probably been like, ten minutes?”
“No it hasn’t,” Eddie says, fumbling his phone out of his pocket. It’s been nine. “Fuck you,” he says to Buck, who’s now openly laughing.
“Anytime you want, hot stuff,” Buck says, turning Eddie around so his back is against the wall again. “Don’t worry about it, I love that you think ten minutes is a lost weekend. Pretty flattering, to be honest.”
“Shut up,” Eddie says, his voice going weak halfway through because Buck is sinking to his knees. “Buck – I can’t, it’s been, like – “
“Just getting you cleaned up,” Buck says, and pins Eddie’s hips to the wall. He looks up at Eddie, biting his lip. “You wanted to shut me up, right?”
“I – “ Eddie says, and loses that sentence as Buck starts licking him clean. Buck’s gentle, but Eddie is still so sensitive and only Buck’s hands trapping him against the wall keep him from squirming. Eddie can’t get hard again yet, but he still shivers and gasps with every touch of Buck’s tongue until Buck finishes and zips him up.
They exchange a few more lingering kisses before they head back in. Buck takes a detour to the bathroom to wash his hands, and Eddie goes back to the table, trying to look nonchalant.
Hen wolf-whistles before he even has a chance to sit down. “Get it, Eddie,” she says.
Eddie resists the urge to rub at his mouth. Resists, resists…fails to resist. “Hey, uh, hey guys,” he says, reclaiming his seat.
“’Hey,’ he says,” says Chimney. “As if he wasn’t just – “
“Please, no,” Maddie says. “I already know more about Evan’s sex life than I ever needed to.”
“We weren’t – “ Eddie says, filing Evan away to deal with later, and is greeted by the disbelieving eyebrows of everyone at the table. “Uh, any of those shots left?”
“I got you a drink,” Buck says, sliding back in next to him and putting a drink in front of him, a mixed drink so green it’s practically glowing.
“Thanks,” Eddie says, and it’s the tequila or maybe just Buck but he cannot control his fucking face.
“Awww,” Hen coos. “You two are adorable.”
“I think you mean ruggedly handsome,” Buck says. “And sexy.”
“Save it for Eddie,” Maddie says, looking incredibly fond of Buck. “Aw, you guys. Look at you.”
“Us?!” Buck says with mock surprise. “We were just at book club.”
“Dick,” Eddie hisses, shoving him. Buck laughs and wraps his arm back around him, so Eddie still wins.
“Yeah, I always leave book club covered in hickies,” Chimney says. Everyone laughs and Eddie goes hot, hunching to cover his neck as much as he can because he has no clue where the hickies actually are. But actually, Buck has a few, so maybe they’re not even talking about him.
Everyone’s laughing, teasing a little more before the conversation turns back to other things, and it’s funny because Eddie never stops feeling safe, never stops feeling that sweet sense of home, of belonging. Trust, maybe. Even when Chimney starts singing about him and Buck kissing in a tree.
Buck kisses Eddie’s temple and Eddie turns to capture his lips for a slow, sweet kiss. When he finally turns back to the group, Maddie gives him a grin and a thumbs up that makes him laugh.
“Tell you what,” Chimney says, “I don’t think you can still call yourself boring, Eddie.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eddie says, and he doesn’t even try to be convincing.
