[fic] 2000 miles 1/3

[pairofraggedclaws]

Title: 2000 miles (1/3)
Fandom: 9-1-1
Rating: E
Word count: 2518
Characters/pairings: Buck/Eddie
Summary: Some times are worse than others to realize you're in love. Like right before one of you moves 800 miles away.

 

It’s supposed to be normal, and Buck is really, really trying. That’s all Eddie asked for; a normal night hanging out, watching TV, drinking beers. One last time before he goes.

Thing is, Buck can’t just un-know that Eddie’s leaving tomorrow. It could be the last time they watch stupid reality TV together. The last time Eddie steals the remote from Buck. The last time they sit side by side together on the couch. It could be the last time they’re ever in the same place again, for all Buck knows.

Every moment is heavy with significance, and Eddie, next to him, burns as bright and clear as a flame. Everything about him is tangible, all the things Buck has long stopped noticing; his bitten nails, the notes of his laugh, the fine lines on his face that Buck has watched form over the past seven years. How could Buck not pay attention all these things every single fucking day? But he hadn’t known that soon this would be a luxury, the sight of Eddie, the solidity of him.

Eddie sighs suddenly and picks up the remote, pausing the TV. “Buck,” he says without looking at him.

“Yeah,” Buck says quietly. He can’t summon the will to sound anything other than exhausted.

“You’re staring at me,” Eddie says.

“Sorry,” Buck says, and doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. He can’t miss a minute, a second of the miracle that is Eddie in the room with him. Like Eddie's a bird in the window, and if Buck looks away for a second, he'll be gone.

Eddie sighs again and turns himself to face Buck, his gaze somewhere over Buck’s shoulder. He's been doing that. Looking past Buck, never quite directly at him. “Would you quit acting like I’m dying?” There’s a flippancy to his manner that stings Buck into irritation.

“Won’t you even look at me?” Buck says sharply, and Eddie’s eyes snap to meet his, startled, and the relief of annoyance is gone as fast as it came. Buck finds himself almost pleading, saying, “This is really hard, Eddie.”

A muscle spasms in Eddie’s jaw. “You don’t have to tell me that. What, do you think I’m having an easy time?”

“I – I’m not saying that. I just-” But there’s no end to that sentence that isn’t some variation of want you to stay, and Buck can’t say that. He stares at Eddie miserably, and Eddie lets him, and then Buck’s looking at Eddie’s mouth, the lush curve of his lips, and it takes no time at all for him to fit a hand to Eddie’s jaw and pull him in. Eddie gasps against his lips, loud in the silent room.

For one split second, Buck is bathed in a strange triumph at getting any kind of reaction out of Eddie, even surprise. Eddie’s been acting aggressively normal, cheerful, as if this isn’t a huge and fucking terrifying thing that’s happening.

That feeling flickers and goes and then Buck’s just – kissing Eddie. Kissing Eddie. Kissing Eddie , and Eddie’s kissing back. Shock pings through Buck, and he jerks away. He finds Eddie breathing shallowly as if they’ve been doing a lot more than just kissing, closed-mouthed, for a few seconds. He’s got one hand kind of hovering near Buck’s shoulder, the other covering his mouth. Or no, not covering his mouth; touching his lips.

“I - “ Buck starts, but he doesn’t get any further before he gets a lapful of Eddie, and Eddie kisses him again with a tiny, desperate sound. He isn't shy about it, his fingers in Buck’s hair and his tongue in Buck’s mouth, and Buck’s just trying to keep up. His hands take a moment to get with the program; Eddie has shocked every thought out of his head. Systems reboot, and he holds Eddie by the waist, lets his fingers dig in. Eddie makes a little noise, a kind of hm he does all the fucking time when he’s surprised, and suddenly Buck’s choking back tears. He tears his lips away from Eddie's, and he wraps his arms around Eddie instead and hugs him, hiding his face in Eddie’s chest. Eddie hugs him back, one hand cradling the back of his head.

“This probably isn't a good idea,” Eddie says a few minutes later.

“Want me to go?” Buck says into his shirt. Eddie’s arms get firmer around him, and Buck gratefully lets himself be pressed closer.

“No,” Eddie says finally. Hoarse, like it hurts to say it.

They stay like that. Silent, holding each other desperately close. Buck doesn’t know how long it’s been when Eddie gently releases Buck, waiting until Buck takes the hint and lets go of Eddie. Buck looks up at him, and Eddie says, “Come to bed with me?”

 

Buck sits on Eddie’s bed, watching him undress.

“Stop it,” Eddie says when he notices.

“I’ve seen you get naked before,” Buck says. Eddie’s just in boxers, now, toying with the waistband a little awkwardly.

“Focus on getting yourself naked.”

“Whatever you want,” Buck says with a salute, but he only gets his shirt off before Eddie’s naked and climbing onto the bed, and Buck gets a little distracted kissing Eddie from his lips down to his thighs.

“Still so dressed,” Eddie says, squirming while Buck kisses across his ribs.

“Does that tickle?” Buck asks.

“No,” Eddie says in his lying voice. “Pants, can we be done with pants?”

“I hate pants,” Buck agrees, and licks Eddie’s nipple.

“Oh,” Eddie says, like he’s lost his train of thought, and Buck does it again. “Oh.”

That warrants further exploration. Buck sucks on Eddie’s nipple, swirls his tongue around and around it until it’s hard. He kisses over to his other nipple and goes through the same process, rubbing his thumb over the nipple not currently under his tongue.

“Oh – God,” Eddie says unsteadily. Buck flicks the tip of Eddie’s nipple with his tongue, repeats it, fast, back and forth and back and forth and Eddie’s arching off the bed now. Buck sits up to grin at Eddie.

“Sensitive, huh,” Buck says.

“What,” Eddie says, chest heaving, his pretty nipples all red and hard. “The fuck.”

“The more you know, baby,” Buck says, and yeah, the fucking world stands still for a second when he says that last word. Eddie looks away.

“Take your clothes off, Buck,” he says after a moment. Buck swallows, looking at anything that isn’t Eddie, and does. After that, Eddie doesn’t let Buck get back to kissing him all over or playing with his nipples. Something has gone remote in his eyes, and he says, “Just fuck me, okay?” Then he turns over and gets on his hands and knees, and Buck can't see his eyes at all, just the long expanse of his back, his ass, his thighs. Buck lays a hand on Eddie's back, and Eddie shudders, his head hanging low.

“Lube?” Buck asks in a voice he doesn’t know. Eddie points at the bedside table. Buck gets it and coats a finger. “Have you done this before? Fingering, anything?”

Eddie twitches. “Just fingers,” he says, and doesn’t elaborate on that. Buck’s gonna warm him up slow and gentle, but he doesn’t get past pushing that first finger in before Eddie’s saying, “Do it, do it.”

“No way, you need more prep than that.”

Eddie shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

“It’ll hurt,” Buck says.

“I want it to,” Eddie says loudly, almost angrily. Buck freezes, and in a lower, rougher voice, Eddie says, “I want to feel it. Tomorrow.”

Buck takes his finger back out of Eddie, and bows over Eddie’s back, his forehead to Eddie’s spine. He gets lost for a moment in listening to Eddie breathe, feeling his chest expand with each breath in. That one word, tomorrow, that could kill him on its own, even without the ruined way Eddie said it. Eddie wants to feel it, feel him , tomorrow. On his way to El fucking Paso.

Buck kisses Eddie’s skin and then gets himself upright. He puts a ridiculous amount of lube on his cock, and lines himself up, and pushes in, slowly, so slowly. Eddie’s swearing under his breath, and Buck's biting his lip, hard, sounds spilling out every other second. Eddie's hot inside, and so fucking tight. Buck has to hold him by the hips and ride out the urge to just slam his hips forward, take Eddie fast and hard. He waits, squeezing Eddie’s hips to try and keep control of himself, and he only pushes further when he feels Eddie relax a little. After a few minutes of this, the waiting, and the easing in, Eddie growls something and shoves his hips back to take Buck all the way. It makes Eddie moan, loud and desperate, and Buck’s hips jerk even though he's as deep inside Eddie as he can get.

“Fuck me, come on,” Eddie says. "I'm good. I'm ready."

“Just let yourself get used to - “

“Buck,” Eddie pleads, the need raw in his voice, and Buck swallows, hard.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he murmurs. He shouldn’t have said that, he knows that as soon as it leaves his mouth, but then they’re already pretty far into things they shouldn’t be doing.

Buck thrusts once, slowly. Eddie's back arches, and he feels so fucking good that Buck ends up thrusting a few more times, faster than he means to. He's inside Eddie, surrounded by him, it's overwhelming. Eddie reaches a fumbling hand back to hold onto Buck’s thigh, and shivers when Buck tightens his hands on Eddie's hips. Eddie's hand on his thigh gives a gentle answering press, and Buck pulls out. He wants to see Eddie's face. He has to.

Eddie makes a miserable sound, and Buck kisses his back. “S’okay, just - turn over?” he says. Slowly, Eddie does. He's flushed with arousal, but there's something in his expression, something wrecked and devastated. All Buck can do is kiss him, and fuck back inside him until he’s moaning, make him feel good. After a few thrusts Eddie’s hands on his ass still him, and then Eddie’s setting a new pace, showing Buck how he likes it, and Buck follows where he’s directed, can do nothing else, wants nothing else than to be an instrument of Eddie's pleasure.

“Eddie,” he whispers, and Eddie looks up at him, lips trembling, wet eyes. Buck cups Eddie's cheek with one reverent hand, strokes his thumb across Eddie's lips. Eddie blinks rapidly, spilling one shining tear, and gasps, pulls Buck inside him, hard, grinding his own hips in circles. Buck groans, every nerve sparking, and then Eddie’s moaning frantically, spilling all over his own belly and chest, hole throbbing around Buck’s cock, hips jerking. Buck can’t help it, couldn't stop it if he tried, the heat's rising through his body, and he kisses Eddie clumsily and comes deep inside him, so hard his hearing goes out for a second. Still panting hard, he pulls out gently and falls to the bed next to Eddie.

They look at each other for a long, still moment. Then Eddie smiles, the way he does when he’s desperately trying not to cry, and says, “I love you.”

Buck sniffs, and says in a choked voice, “I love you .”

That’s when Eddie bursts into tears, and Buck doesn’t stand a chance after that. They wrap up in each other, Eddie pressed to Buck’s chest, their legs tangled together. Buck holds Eddie in his arms like what he is, something precious and irreplaceable. Eventually Buck stops crying and Eddie mostly stops, the occasional hitch of breath betraying him. Dull tiredness is flooding Buck's brain, and he thinks, drowsily, that he should drink some water. He should clean up. He should find something to say to Eddie, something to make it better...but then he’s asleep, and it’s too late to think about those things.

He wakes up when Eddie shakes his shoulder. “Hey,” Buck says muzzily, and then, “Oh, fuck, my fucking head.”

“Here,” Eddie says, and when Buck opens his eyes he’s being offered ibuprofen and water.

“My hero,” Buck croaks, and dry-swallows the ibuprofen. Eddie’s shirtless, his hair a mess, and he’s got a bunch of hickies on his chest and his neck that Buck doesn't actually remember giving him. Buck’s eyes catch on darkness at his hips. “Uh.”

Eddie smiles at him a little wryly, and eases his sweats down enough for Buck to see the black-and-blue fingerprints on his hips.

“Shit,” Buck says, lining up a hand with the marks. “Sorry.”

“Eh,” Eddie says. Buck presses gently, and Eddie closes his eyes and inhales shakily. “Buck,” he says, and Buck smiles sheepishly.

“What time is it?” Buck says. He drinks some water, and his head clears a little.

“Six,” Eddie says. “Movers will be here in an hour.”

"Ah," Buck says, the ache in his throat twisting back to life, and thinks please, please don't leave. For a second, it’s the only thing he can think, and he’s sure it’ll be the next thing out of his mouth, but he manages a weak laugh and to say instead, “I guess this was pretty bad timing.”

“I guess so,” Eddie says with a miserable gesture at a smile. He’s looking at Buck and Buck’s looking at him and Buck stands up and kisses him. They kiss and kiss and kiss, Eddie's arms around him and Buck's hands on his face. And Buck just can’t bear to stop. He wants one more kiss, and one more, and one more. But Eddie has to leave, and Buck can't make it harder for him. Any harder than he has.

Buck makes himself stop kissing Eddie, and says, “I should probably go.”

Eddie opens his mouth, closes it. “Yeah,” he finally says. He doesn't let go of Buck.

“You’ve got the movers coming and everything,” Buck says, rubbing his forehead to try and hide that he’s crying again.

“I just wish,” Eddie says, and doesn’t finish his sentence.

“Me too,” Buck says. He's trying, hard, but his voice comes out a broken thing. “You’ll call me, right?”

“I’ll call you,” Eddie promises.

Buck hugs Eddie, makes himself pull away after a few seconds even though Eddie’s shoulders start to shake, and kisses him softly. One last time. Letting go of him and walking away feels like nothing short of cutting off a limb.

Buck only trusts himself to look back once he reaches the door. “Bye, Eddie,” he says.

“Bye, Buck,” Eddie says; there’s his smile, weak, but still the smile Buck loves. “’ta luego.”

Here Eddie is, in this house that Buck loves because Eddie lives in it. Gorgeous in the thin morning light with the marks Buck left on him. In a few hours, he'll be gone.

Buck doesn't run back into Eddie's arms. He doesn't beg him to stay. He walks out the door, gets in his car, and drives away. It's the same drive he's made a hundred, a thousand times, but today it all looks unfamiliar.

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