pairofraggedclaws

Title: forever fearless and in your arms
Fandom: 9-1-1
Rating: E
Word count: 4099
Characters/pairings: Buck/Eddie
Summary: Eddie, pantsless, on the couch with Buck, realizing things.

They kill the six pack in silence. Eddie catches Buck looking at the empty box mournfully.

“I have more in the fridge,” he says.

“Mhm,” Buck says. He’s got a miserable look on his face, staring into the middle distance.

Eddie gets up and feels how tipsy he is; more tipsy than he should be, the result of drinking on an empty stomach. He hasn’t really been hungry since Christopher left, and he knows he’s lost weight. Today, for the first time in a while, he doesn’t feel disgusted by the thought of food.

He snags a couple of beers from the fridge, pops them open. Buck, on the couch, is still staring sadly, now at the empty beer bottle in his hand. Eddie pulls it out of his hand and replaces it with a new one.

Buck takes a long drink and sets it down on the coffee table. “I’m single again,” he says. There’s the ghost of forced cheer in his voice, but he’s not particularly pulling it off.

“Sorry,” Eddie says after a moment, and he sounds so insincere to his own ears that it would be funny if it weren’t kinda shitty to Buck. He actually does mean it, is the thing. “Uh, really sorry.” Oh, that was even worse. Eddie powers through. “What happened?”

Buck’s looking at him now. “Did – did you not like Tommy?”

“No! I mean yes. I mean, yes, I like him.” Eddie swigs beer. Drinking more will definitely improve his communication skills.

There’s the slightest pause. “Okay,” Buck says. “Past tense, though, right? Bros before, uh, bros.”

“Buck, what happened? Do I need to chew him out?” Eddie fails to search Buck’s eyes; Buck’s evading him.

“No,” Buck says. “He just – he broke up with me. That’s all.” He sighs when Eddie finally catches his eye. “It’s all that I want to talk about. Okay?”

“Fine,” Eddie says, involuntarily channeling his abuela. “Don’t tell me. I’ll just worry about you.”

Buck’s face relaxes out of its expression of misery, and he almost smiles. “I’m fine.”

“Whatever you say,” Eddie says into his beer. Buck flicks his shoulder. “Hey.” Buck does it again. “Dude. Stop it.”

“Nuh-uh,” Buck says. Eddie follows where joy directs him and kicks Buck in the ankle.

“Do that again,” Buck says in a playfully goading tone. Eddie looks him in the eye and does.

A second later, Eddie is spluttering with laughter; Buck’s grabbed his foot, pulled it up onto the couch, and yanked his sock off to tickle him mercilessly.

“Not – fair!” Eddie gasps, writhing to try and get away. “Stop it stop it Buck stop it - “

“One touch to your foot and your dignity goes out the window,” Buck says, putting Eddie’s foot down on his lap.

“That was not one touch,” Eddie says. He puts his other foot in Buck’s lap, sprawling on his back.

Buck sighs like he’s very put-upon and shifts a little closer so Eddie can rest his legs more comfortably. Eddie takes a sip of his beer, and then Buck touches his leg and he almost chokes. It’s gentle, just one long finger tracing Eddie’s ankle. Buck runs his fingers up to Eddie’s calf and stops again.

“You have freckles,” Buck says.

“They’re,” Eddie says. “I think they’re birthmarks. Technically.”

Buck’s hand keeps traveling. “Oh.” It stops around Eddie’s knee, and Buck pokes at a mole. Then Buck seems to forget about the whole thing, and his hand is just there. On Eddie’s knee. And it’s not still, either, his thumb brushing back and forth in an absent-minded way.

Eddie clears his throat. Buck doesn’t look at him; Buck is looking at his hand on Eddie’s knee.

Eddie doesn’t have anything to say, anyway. Not when Buck finally drags his eyes up to Eddie’s; not when he drags them back down to watch his own hand shift and get a firmer grip on Eddie’s knee. Or, well. A little above his knee, now.

Here’s the thing that Eddie’s just coming to really and truly realize: he is not wearing any fucking pants. His legs are bare. He is pantsless. And he’s wearing these fucking tighty whities and he usually wears boxer shorts, so he feels even more...bare. It feels like the tiny air currents in his living room are caressing his skin alongside Buck’s hand. And Buck’s hand, which is like, touching him, feels like the source of all the electricity in the world, and it’s making Eddie’s skin tingle. When he looks at his hands, they’re shivering like he’s scared.

He’s not scared. He’s something else. Something like anticipatory, something like wanting, something like awake for the first time in weeks. His legs on Buck’s lap are trembling, hopefully not enough for Buck to notice, because Eddie cannot be expected to explain what Buck’s casual, drunk touch is doing to him.

Eddie has no idea how this is happening. Eddie told a priest he was straight literal hours ago, and he meant it.

Buck moves his hand again, not up but around, fingertips sliding towards the inside of Eddie’s leg, and Eddie’s dick thinks about perking up. Eddie hums, high-pitched and nervous.

He would love it if Buck didn’t look at him at this exact second because Eddie has, oh right, no fucking pants on, so if he starts getting hard for real – Buck is gonna see it. Buck does look, though, and when his eyes meet Eddie’s, it gives Eddie a shivery little jolt that reverberates through his entire body, going directly to his cock.

Eddie fidgets with the half-full beer in his hand; he should put it down, but he doesn’t want his treacherously shaky hands to spill it; the only solution he can find is to chug it. And after that he’s feeling warm, like, really warm, and he’s still got a situation to deal with. He fumbles the now-empty bottle onto the coffee table and sits up. There isn’t a pillow behind him, or he’d just tug it into his lap. That would be obvious, though, so maybe it’s for the best.

Eddie dedicates all his mental resources to this problem, and only finds one solution. He starts unbuttoning his shirt, and it’s only once he has it halfway off his shoulders that it hits him that this is kind of a terrible idea. And Buck’s staring at him.

“Got too warm,” Eddie mutters, yanking the shirt off and draping it, crumpled, over his crotch. Safety. Hallelujah.

“Oh, uh, yeah, for sure,” Buck says. He’s still staring at Eddie but not at his face. His eyes are moving all over, up and down the length of Eddie’s body. Eddie -

Eddie can’t remember why he came up with this idea. Because now he’s basically naked, except for underwear and one fucking sock. His whole body feels sensitized, now, not just his legs; his back, pressed against the armrest, his arms, his chest, where – where Buck is currently staring.

Oh, cool. His nipples are getting hard. Tingling. Buck does a slow, stunned blink. Can he tell? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Um,” Eddie says, going for casual. Instead, his voice breaks. Buck’s eyes flash back up, then back down, and if sheer force of will is doing anything for his nipples, it’s making them harder. Like hurting harder. Heat is flashing through Eddie and he’s out of ideas, if he can be said to have had any before this moment. He looks at Buck helplessly.

Buck looks back, and slowly, deliberately, rests his other hand on Eddie’s other knee. Eddie’s heart is pounding and okay, it’s not just his nipples now, he’s hard. Eddie shifts a little, trying to give his cock space without being insanely obvious about it. Buck smooths his hands a little way up Eddie’s thighs, and Eddie’s legs fall a little wider apart, knees turning out to the sides.

“You, uh,” Buck says, a low rumble. “You have really soft skin.”

“I moisturize,” Eddie says dumbly. Buck is breathing kind of – strangely. Fast, or shallow, or something. Eddie hasn’t got the blood to spare to his brain to figure it out.

So no more thinking. Eddie drinks more beer, and lets gravity pull him closer to Buck, and closer, until it’s his thighs across Buck’s lap. Buck watches him, and as Eddie gets closer he starts being able to hear Buck breathing, feel the heat coming off him. Eddie tries to say something, to ask something, to explain himself, but instead he kisses Buck. He kisses him, and Buck kisses back, and Eddie’s arms go around Buck and Buck’s hands grab his ass with a firmness that makes Eddie moan low in his throat as Buck uses his grip to drag Eddie into his lap. Eddie turns, gets his legs under him to straddle Buck’s legs.

“Fuck,” Eddie says, the word mangled to meaninglessness against Buck’s mouth, because Buck’s cock is pressing against his ass. There’s Eddie’s underwear, Buck’s pants, and Buck’s underwear between the two. Three layers of cloth, that’s it.

Buck makes a low sound, and he grabs the shirt that’s still half covering Eddie’s crotch and throws it somewhere. He pulls back, whispers, “I knew it,” into the scant space between them. “You are so not subtle.”

“It’s not my fault,” Eddie says hoarsely. “You’re making me crazy.”

“I didn’t know.” Buck shakes his head. “I didn’t think you were - “ He cuts himself off, evidently not sure what word to use.

“I don’t know,” Eddie whispers against his mouth, “what I am.” He claims Buck’s lips desperately, and Buck kisses back, lips parting, tongue sliding against Eddie’s. Eddie’s shaking with it, the admission of the obvious, that he might not know what to call himself but straight is certainly off the table. A brief ache pulses in his throat. When their lips part, Eddie’s breathing hard for more than one reason, emotion rising in his chest, his throat, not happiness or sadness but some feeling huge enough to wash Eddie out to sea with it. His eyes sting and he blinks rapidly.

“Eddie,” Buck murmurs into his neck. “Eddie.” His arms are wrapped around Eddie. It’s incredibly pleasant. They’re so close. Eddie wants to be closer.

“I want you,” Eddie confesses, his voice raw, body still shaking.

Buck sits back, looking at Eddie, his eyes startled and very, very blue. “What, uh, w-what do you mean?”

Eddie has the words in his mouth, I’m in your lap kissing you, what do you think I mean, the joking and irony that’ll push things back, a little, to a safe distance. Where Eddie doesn’t need to say what he wants, because he doesn’t deserve to get what he wants. Because he doesn’t absolutely need it, sohe shouldn’t bother Buck with it. That instinct is here with him, not uprooted so easily, but it’s not the only option he can see anymore. There’s denial, and then there’s – joy.

Eddie’s hands are still shaking a little, he sees, when he brings them up to cup Buck’s face, fingers in his hair. “I want you inside me,” he says, and breathes through the adrenaline of saying it. Buck blinks once, twice. His mouth is wide open. Eddie drags his thumb down Buck’s cheek, across his lower lip. He rolls his hips, just once, just to feel Buck’s cock press against him.

“Oh, uh, okay, cool,” Buck says in a rush. “We can, uh. We can do that. Fuck. Um.”

“Yeah?” Eddie says, and doesn’t even give Buck shit for his stumbling answer. He’s too hopeful, too desperate, too empty, fuck is he empty.

“Have you done that before?” Buck asks carefully.

“Just fingers,” Eddie says. Just enough to feel how badly he needs to be filled.

“Marisol fingered you?” Buck asks, eyebrows climbing. Eddie shakes his head. “Ana fingered you?”

“No, no no,” Eddie says. He rolls his hips again, just to feel Buck there again. And just one more time. And just – one more. “I did it. To myself.”

Eddie’s ears are warm. “Fuck, Eddie,” Buck breathes, sliding his hands up and down Eddie’s bare arms, up to his neck, down his back. Eddie shudders. His nipples are getting hard again.

Then Eddie gasps, as Buck ducks his head and licks over first one nipple, then the other. Buck goes back to the first, sucks gently, and then flicks his tongue over the tip of it, back and forth, light and fast, and Eddie feels pre-come leak from his cock.

“Oh my God.” The words tumble out and Buck just keeps going.

Buck pulls off his nipple with a wet sound, and Eddie drags him up by the hair. “Fuck. Me.”

“Okay, uh, okay, we need – do you have lube?”

“Fuck,” Eddie says. “Yeah, let me get it.”

Buck wolf-whistles at him when he gets up, and Eddie flips him off. He must look pornographic, hair a mess, cock hard enough that it’s straining against white cotton.

When he comes back with the lube, Buck is lying down, stretched out on his back, and Eddie straddles him again. Fuck, the press of his cock against Eddie’s ass is just too good. Eddie closes his eyes, shifts his hips, finding the right spot to get Buck’s cock teasing between his cheeks. He flexes his hips, grinds them, God, once, twice, three times before Buck stills him, holding his hips.

“I thought you said you wanted me to fuck you,” Buck says. “Not come in my pants.”

He’s smiling at Eddie, like Eddie’s the best thing he’s ever fucking seen. I hope you never, ever, ever looked at Tommy like this, Eddie thinks, and manages not to say. “Right,” he says.

“Show me?” Buck says. “How you finger yourself?”

Eddie shows him. He slides lubed fingers down the back of his underwear, stroking them over his hole, biting his lip. Finally, Buck makes a frustrated sound, tugging at his underwear, and Eddie goes up on his knees, goes through the awkward process of getting them off. Buck snags his one sock off his foot. “I hope you didn’t want that,” Buck says.

“Uh-uh,” Eddie says, straddling Buck, naked. Buck is big and broad and warm beneath him. Eddie leans down to kiss him and then gets back to business. He pushes one finger in, fucks himself on it slowly until he feels himself relax into it.

“Another?” Buck says, and when Eddie nods, Buck doesn’t wait for him to do it; his finger is there, pressing at Eddie’s hole, alongside Eddie’s own finger. Eddie’s breath rushes out of him, and Buck, watching his face, pushes his finger in, slow, gentle, but fuck is it thick.

“Oh,” Eddie says, something like a moan. “Buck. I. Uh.”

“Yeah, like that,” Buck says. He follows Eddie’s rhythm, fucking in and out slowly, then faster, and Eddie’s gnawing on his lips trying to stay quiet.

But it’s not enough, is the thing. Eddie gets both fingers pushed in deep as they’ll go and just grinds desperately, clenching around them to feel it more.

“Another?” Buck says.

“No,” Eddie says, shaking his head loosely. “I need you. Need you to fuck me.”

“Okay,” Buck says, and they both pull their fingers out of Eddie. Buck unzips his pants, shoves his boxer briefs down just enough to pull out his cock, and Eddie goes up on his knees. They coordinate, lining Buck up until his cock is pushing at Eddie’s hole.

“I’m good, go,” Eddie says, and his hole spasms against Buck’s cock, and they both moan.

“Hold on, hold on,” Buck says, hoarse, and then there’s the slick sound of him lubing his cock. “Okay – just – take it slow – “

Eddie takes it slow. His mouth falls open soundlessly as Buck fills him, stretching him so perfectly that he can’t even remember how he got here for a second – his house, L.A., planet Earth. He takes a moment with Buck partway in to pause, and he says, in a voice that’s remarkably slurred, “This feels unfair.”

“Un-unfair?” Buck says, eyelashes fluttering, hands squeezing Eddie’s ass.

“Feels so good, Buck. You should get – get to feel like this. I can - “ He starts trying to lift off of Buck’s cock, but then that feels amazing, and he’s fucking back down without thinking about it.

Buck laughs breathlessly. “I promise this feels really fucking good for me,” he says, and thrusts up a little into Eddie. “Only you would decide you’re being selfish because it feels too good.” It’s said with affection, but it still hits Eddie where it’s a little tender. Does everyone look at him and see someone denying himself? Someone shutting himself off in a colorless little world because he doesn’t think he deserves anything else? “And,” Buck goes on, “while I’m literally already fucking you.”

“There’s this priest,” Eddie says, alcohol working its magic on his powers of speech. “He would totally agree with you.”

“What,” Buck says.

“I talked to him,” Eddie says, explaining nothing. He needs to find better words because he really can’t be having an extended conversation with Buck’s cock inside him. “About my shitshow of a life. And he said I don’t think I deserve joy, and that’s kind of the problem.”

Buck hums, smoothing his hands up and down Eddie’s sides. “You do, though,” he says. “Deserve it.”

Eddie’s smile twists a little. “Yeah?” he whispers.

“You deserve anything that puts that look on your face,” Buck says, pulling Eddie down further onto his cock and making him gasp. “Fuck. And I deserve to see it. So.” He smiles up at Eddie. “Take what you want.”

“Take – “

“Ride ‘em, cowboy,” Buck says, and settles back comfortably.

Eddie’s breath is coming hard, his muscles frozen as he stares at Buck, struck dumb. There’s a kind of fear swelling in him, and a kind of excitement, too, bigger than the fear. It’s hard to feel afraid of anything with Buck here with him.

“O-Okay,” Eddie stammers, and he might feel safe, he does feel safe, but his cheeks still heat up when he starts moving, lowering himself all the way down onto Buck’s cock until he’s seated. And oh, he burns a second later when he pushes back up, and Buck’s not doing anything but biting his lip and watching. Eddie feels, he is, on display for Buck, naked, exposed, and Buck’s basically still dressed which makes Eddie feel even more exposed.

“That’s right, Eddie,” Buck says, low. “That’s perfect.”

Buck has to have seen the way Eddie’s cock jumped at that. Eddie makes an incoherent sound and keeps going, up and down and up and down – and it feels so, so fucking good that he’s about to be really fucking loud, he’s already starting to make little sounds in his throat. He puts a hand over his mouth, pants damply into it, muffles the sounds coming out of his mouth.

“Hey, no,” Buck says. He takes Eddie’s hand away gently and laces their fingers together. “You don’t have to be quiet.”

“I - “ Eddie breaks off in a whine as he hits a really good angle. “I might be really, uh, not-quiet.”

“Oh, no, anything but that,” Buck says, deadpan. “Stop worrying, Eddie. You sound fucking hot.”

Eddie doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he takes Buck’s free hand in his, too. He starts moving again, using his grip on Buck’s hands to leverage himself as he changes the angle around, searching, until he gets it right and moans desperately, hands spasming in Buck’s with the kneejerk impulse to cover his own mouth. He keeps working his hips, harder, faster, until he feels like he’s on fire and Buck is breathing hard under him. His thighs burn, and he can’t quite get himself there, and eventually he just sits right back down to catch his breath. Not exactly easy with Buck stretching him open like this.

Buck’s hands tremble in his, and Eddie slowly releases them, his fingers stiff. He wraps a hand around himself, sighing with relief, and just grinds his hips as best he can on Buck’s cock without actually moving. He jolts, finding that perfect spot, and then he finds a way to have Buck’s cock pushing on it without even having to move, a constant tug of pleasure.

“Feels good?” Buck says raggedly.

“So good,” Eddie says, stroking himself lazily and Buck’s cock is putting pressure in all the right places inside him, and making him feel so stretched, so filled. He squeezes on Buck’s cock to feel it more, and Buck curses. He does it again, and again, it feels so good and suddenly he’s close without having any idea how he got there. Heat’s building in his stomach and traveling up his spine, he clenches on Buck again, again, again, he shudders on the edge and does it one more time and he’s coming, and he moans like he’s being fucking paid, over and over, and he doesn’t even think to try and quiet himself down. Eventually he comes back to himself, breathing hard, limp and relaxed, every muscle loose and tired.

“Eddie, I’ll – if it’s too much I can - “ Buck’s breathless, still hard inside Eddie.

“It’s okay, don’t stop, fuck me,” Eddie says in a weak, faraway voice.

“Here, let’s - “ Buck is pulling out of Eddie, and Eddie makes a dissatisfied sound until Buck slides off the couch and gestures for Eddie to lie down on his back. Once he does, Buck is on top of him again immediately, babbling, “I just, I just need, Eddie, oh my god,” and when he slams back inside, Eddie moans just as loud as he did when he came.

It feels different, sort of shocky, but still good, Eddie’s whole body feels good, swimming in endorphins, and exhaustion is creeping over him, his eyes keep closing, but at the same time he’s moaning, quiet and breathy. He’s never felt this good in his entire life.

Buck’s moaning brokenly and Eddie kisses him sloppily, and Eddie’s shivering now with how he feels, legs absolutely trembling, too much and not enough and just fucking right, his hole stretched so good, starting to feel sore but God, he just wants more. When he feels Buck’s cock jerk inside him, Buck gasping against his neck, Eddie whines desolately; it’s about to be over, and Eddie doesn’t want to be further than this from Buck, ever, ever, ever again.

But of course, Buck has to pull out and they have to get cleaned up; after that, Eddie pulls Buck down the hallway to his room. Eddie undresses him slowly, pushes him gently down into the bed and crawls in after him. Buck is quiet and a little remote, but Eddie leaves him be for the moment, lets Buck work through whatever he’s thinking about. Maybe it’s Tommy, and maybe Eddie should worry that this is a rebound or an impulsive mistake on Buck’s side, but he doesn’t, because it isn’t. Eddie knows it isn’t. He wraps himself around Buck, sighing with the feeling of Buck’s warm skin, his limbs entwined with Eddie’s.

“Cozy?” Buck says with quiet humor.

Eddie finds Buck’s hand and puts it on his ass, where it gets a comfortable hold. “Now I am,” he says, closing his eyes.

He’s drifting towards sleep when Buck says, “Hey Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think firsts and lasts can be the same? Or is the first of something...destined to get forgotten?” Buck sounds like he’s choosing his words very carefully.

“Destiny isn’t a thing,” Eddie says.

“Right, but,” Buck says, and blows out a frustrated breath. “What if it is? What if some things are just trial runs, and they’ll never be real?”

Eddie’s eyes open, and he breathes for a moment, thinking. He sits up. “Are you talking about,” he gestures between them, “this?”

Buck nods slowly.

“Because I haven’t been with a guy before? That kind of first?”

Another nod, a muscle in Buck’s jaw spasming.

“Buck.” Eddie smooths a curl back from his forehead, heart painfully tender. “Every relationship is a first. Even if I’d been with a hundred guys, I still wouldn’t have been with you before.”

“Okay,” Buck says, eyes shiny. “Yeah. That’s true.”

“And for whatever it’s worth, I want it to be real,” Eddie says.

“Okay,” Buck says again. He’s smiling now, a stray tear spilling down his cheek. “I want it to be real too.”

“Good.” Eddie kisses him softly, then settles into his arms. After a moment, he moves Buck’s hand back to his ass.