Archive of Our Own ^beta

When Eddie wakes up, the sun is barely peeking through the blinds. 

Buck is still asleep, head nuzzled into the crook of Eddie’s neck, an arm loosely looped around his waist, a soft, silent plea for Eddie to stay in bed. 

So, Eddie complies. He closes his eyes again, noticing the quite comforting way he can feel Buck’s breath hitting his skin. With a relieved sigh, he pulls him closer, and gets an absent yet happy-sounding groan out of it. 

Just last night, a migraine-ridden Buck had pulled Eddie back down onto this very bed and then into an eye-opening, life-changing kiss. A kiss Eddie hadn’t even known he wanted.

The ghost of it still lingers on his lips, a feeling of emptiness, a tingle for more. He tilts his head and presses a soft peck to Buck’s forehead, for now. He’ll get the real thing later.

Eyes closed, he basks in the moment for a while, feeling Buck’s heartbeat against his side, a reassuring rhythm seeping through the fabric of his shirt, grounding him.

Buck’s here, in his arms, and he’s safe. And alive .

Eddie finds himself counting silently, mouthing the numbers as he counts every time he can feel his steady pulse. It’s silly, he knows that, but he also can’t help it. There is a reason he can’t stand thunderstorms these days, finds himself either texting Buck or showing up on his doorstep under the pretense of watching a movie every single time. He wonders if Buck knows.

“What’re you doing?”

The rasp of Buck’s morning voice, husky and raw with sleep, makes Eddie freeze and lose count. 

“Uh, nothing,” he whispers, keeping his eyes closed. His own heart picks up the pace, and he can feel his cheeks heating up a bit, too.

“I heard you counting,” Buck mumbles, still awfully weary, his arm tightening around Eddie’s waist. “What were you counting, Eds?”

Eddie gulps thickly. “Nothing,” he tries again, but Buck only squeezes his waist again, telling him he can obviously see through the lie. And how could he not?

“Eddie,” he scolds, his voice quiet. “Come on.”

“ Fine ,” Eddie sighs. “I was counting your pulse.”

Silence spreads. It even seems like Buck has stopped breathing, holding it in as he processes the weight of what Eddie has just confessed to him. 

He wants to pretend it’s not a big deal. But it is. It’s a bit insane, actually. 

But Eddie has never been particularly sane when it comes to Buck, anyway. And now that he knows what his lips feel like moving against his own, it’s not going to get any better any time soon. Actually, now that he’s won the prize he didn’t even know he’d been after, he is only going to become worse .

Does he even have him now? Had all of their friendship only ever been an eight-year-long road toward one inevitable destination? 

Or is all Eddie possesses now the sheer knowledge of how things could be if things were different?

After a while, Buck lets out a long exhale, and it’s shaky. It’s clear he doesn’t know what to say, and Eddie can’t blame him. They both know why he counted, no need to sugarcoat it. 

Buck died, and Eddie was there to witness it. Three minutes and seventeen seconds of torture.

Of not knowing whether those dimples on his cheeks would ever have the chance of reappearing with another genuine grin.

Of pushing aside all the pain daring to overtake your weary body, and praying to a God Eddie wasn’t even sure exists to somehow make it all okay.

How could he not take the given opportunity to make sure all of this was actually real?

“Eddie,” Buck breathes again, this time disbelievingly and brittle, and he shifts his head so he can press his hot, dry lips to the underside of Eddie’s jaw, the hand on Eddie’s waist splaying to fit perfectly in the shallow curve of it. 

Eddie shudders at the contact of Buck’s mouth to his skin. He hadn’t expected this small gesture of intimacy to already feel so casual. To be something he wanted more of, now and every day to come.

“How are you feeling, Buck,” he whispers past the knot in his throat, changing the subject. He’s suddenly overly aware of the fact that his eyes are still shut, of the way his jeans are uncomfortably digging into the flesh of his hips. 

God , he slept in his jeans.

Buck huffs, pulling away. It instantly feels like a piece of Eddie has been ripped away along with it. He finally opens his eyes, finding Buck looking down at him, curls messy and sticking out in all directions, face crumpled from sleep.

“Much better,” he smiles softly, “Thanks to you.”

His gaze roams all over Eddie’s face, lingering in places, and Eddie can see that underneath his drooping lids, Buck’s pupils have grown as big as saucers, a soft gleam to them—pure and utter affection.

Eddie wants to grasp onto his hoodie, pull him down, and kiss him stupid for it. 

“I’m glad,” he says instead, lips quirking up. Their gazes lock for a few seconds, and it sends a shiver all over Eddie’s skin. 

But there is a vulnerability in Buck’s eyes that hasn’t been there before.

“Last night,” he eventually mutters under his breath, as if he’s afraid to say it out loud, “Did you mean what you said?”

Eddie doesn’t even hesitate.

“All of it.” 

He doesn’t need to remember the details. It doesn’t matter what exact words he used last night, he knows in his heart that he told nothing but the truth—a truth that had been hidden in plain sight all along, now broken free from its enclosure with no way to return. 

A touched, emotional expression creeps onto Buck’s face, and he sighs in relief, shoulders dropping. As if he needed to make sure all of this was real, too.

“Good,” he softly smiles, licking his lips. “Me too.”

A beat of silence passes between them, the energy shifting. Eddie can see the way Buck’s gazes keep falling to his lips, can tell that he is not the only one craving more of what they started last night. His face softens, the smallest, most affectionate smile taking over his expression.

“Kiss me,” he nods, his voice barely audible, and Buck’s cheeks flush at the realization that he’s not being very subtle at all. Eddie doesn’t want him to be, anyway.

“Yeah?” Buck mutters back, eyes snapping back up to Eddie’s, who lets out a tired chuckle.

“Mmh,” he hums gently, tilting his head to the side as he teasingly adds, “If you want to.”

“ God , it’s all I can think about,” Buck admits under his breath before he comes down, one hand on Eddie’s jaw, and presses his lips against his, all firm and soft at the same time. 

Eddie sighs and smiles into the kiss, his entire body aching for more contact. He wraps his arms around Buck’s shoulders, the world around them fading into an irrelevant blur of nothing when he begins to pull him closer. Buck hooks one leg over Eddie’s, and the kiss turns sloppy and hungry, slow and intimate, intense in a way Eddie has never experienced before.

He wishes time could somehow stop so they could spend eternity just like this, a tangle of limbs and lips, not worrying about the past or the future.

This moment, right here, should last forever.

“I was kind of afraid I made it all weird, Eddie,” Buck mutters into his mouth, popping the rose-colored bubble of safety around them. Not that Eddie can blame him. It’s only natural to wonder. 

After all, they crossed any remaining lines of their eight-year friendship last night, where it had started with a simple scalp massage and comforting words and ended with Buck falling asleep in Eddie’s arms, both with a content smile on their faces. 

“You didn’t, I promise,” he assures him, his voice soft and compassionate, all sweet and warm like elder blossom tea. It’s a stark contrast to the need that is currently rushing through him, the urge to never let go, to somehow find a way to get even closer to Buck.
None of this is merely a want anymore. It’s a need, tiptoeing the edge between desire and… lust . 

He is greedy, wanting all of Buck all at once, all for himself. Gently, he lets his hands find Buck’s sides, pulling and guiding him onto his lap, until his thighs press against either side of Eddie, and there are big hands digging into the mattress beside his head, holding Buck’s big, bulky frame up.

Mindlessly, Eddie reaches and wraps his fingers around Buck’s wrists. His life-line. His reminder that he’s not dreaming, not making this up. 

This is really happening.

Buck closes the distance between them again. Eddie immediately drowns in the kiss, letting his tongue swirl against Buck’s, drawing out this moment, this feeling, for as long as he can. He doesn’t want to spend time thinking about the way he’s never even known he wanted to kiss a man before, or the way that what they’re doing right here is going to change everything between them.

All that counts is right here, on top of him.

Panting, Buck then lets his lips stray from Eddie’s. They trace an invisible line down to his jaw, instead, all the way down to the neckline of his shirt. It drives Eddie insane, makes his breath hitch in his throat, and his body tingle with the desire for more.

Slowly losing his ability to function properly, he lets go of Buck’s wrists, lets his hands find Buck’s thighs, instead, squeezing and rubbing over the fabric of his sweatpants. Immediately, Buck shifts downward, into the minimal space between them, and then, Eddie feels warm hands sneak underneath his shirt, fingertips grazing his skin with ghost-like touches as he begins pushing the fabric upward, exposing the plain of his stomach, inch by inch.

“Is this okay?” Buck breathes into the crook of his neck, voice muffled and heavy with desire.

“I—” Eddie croaks, and he clears his throat. It’s new, this feeling that bubbles up deep in his guts, heat and cold all at once. “ God , yeah.”

In response, Buck continues to pepper kisses to the sensitive spot between his neck and shoulder, and a gasp escapes Eddie’s throat before he can stop it. With every passing second, his mind keeps narrowing down to the touches to his skin, the body heat radiating against him. His pants are awfully tight by now. He knows Buck noticed, too, judging from the way he keeps accidentally rolling his hips against him in just the right way, slight and controlled motions that slowly begin to drive Eddie crazy.

“Buck,” he pants, the grasp on Buck’s legs tightening, fingers digging into the fabric and the muscled flesh underneath. 

He simply needs to hold onto something, anything . This sensation is overwhelming him, he wants and wants and wants , the muscles of his stomach contracting with every tickling, tender touch of Buck’s fingers, his hips bucking up all by themselves, aching for more friction. 

“Hm?” Buck breathes, a slight edge to his voice. Like he’s afraid he’s somehow overstepped.

“Don’t stop,” Eddie pleads, voice breathy and weak. 

A relieved, fond chuckle reverberates through the air, simmering into his bones. “If you insist.”

Then, Buck’s lips keep working their way down, over the bunched-up fabric of Eddie’s shirt and finally, finally, meeting the skin of his chest, then dragging further down. His entire body is following an imaginary path downward, shifting further and further back with every tender peck.

Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat. He shifts, props himself up just enough to be able to stare down and follow every little move Buck makes, his elbows dipping into the mattress, his hands in tight fists.

When Buck looks up to meet his gaze, his eyes are glazed, his pupils blown. His breath is tickling the sensitive skin underneath Eddie’s navel, making him shudder. 

It’s so surreal, seeing Buck peek up at him through his lashes like this, a silent question in his expression, seeking for the permission to carry on, a mute “Are you sure?”

Eddie simply licks his dry lips and nods, because what else is he to do when his skin is burning with the need of feeling those soft, warm lips on it again? 

He can’t remember if he’s ever craved something as much as this, and it’s scaring him. But at the same time, he couldn’t care less.

His vision goes blurry around the edges as he watches Buck’s fingers find the button of his jeans, all without breaking eye contact. The then-following zipping sound reverberates through Eddie’s skull, rattling his ear drums. 

He’s drowning in this sensation, enveloped by the fresh scent of what he knows is Buck’s shampoo. A fragrance that he would recognize anywhere, anytime.

Nothing exists outside this bed. It simply can’t. There is nothing but him, in this very bed, gasping for air while his best friend’s head hovers mere inches from where Eddie wants—no, needs —to be touched right now.

“You know, you took care of me yesterday,” Buck mutters with regained confidence, his voice low, his cheeks beet-red, and he begins to press soft, warm kisses onto Eddie’s lower stomach, one after every word. “Now it’s my turn.”

He pauses and glances up, scanning Eddie’s face for hints of uncertainty. “If you’re okay with it.”

“Do I look like I’m about to stop you,” Eddie huffs, lids droopy and breath heavy.  His spine is rigid, his entire body pushing forward, looking for more. “Buck, I swear to God—”

He fails to finish his sentence when Buck makes quick work of pulling his jeans down as far as they’ll go, then draws in a sharp breath—maybe, Eddie’s boxer briefs don’t leave much room for imagination, especially not right now. 

Buck lets his fingers ghost over the waistband of them, his breath hitching. His eyes snap back up to Eddie’s, and he keeps their gazes locked as he hooks his pointers underneath the elastic, pulling carefully. 

Eddie feels lightheaded. His entire existence has molten down to this very moment. He can see the gleam in Buck’s eyes, can tell he’s fighting hard to maintain eye contact, tries to keep himself from losing control. 

So, Eddie ends up being the first to look away. His eyes snap downward, to where he’s almost completely exposed by now. With one last tug, Buck pulls the briefs down, his gaze still glued to Eddie’s face, his lips in a silent Oh.

His cock springs free, rock-hard and sensitive, and it’s so insanely odd to see it in the same frame as Buck’s face, but there they are. He catches Buck’s gaze again, just for a moment.

“Buck,” he croaks, because all he does is want , but neither of them is moving. “It’s okay.”

Buck musters a groan, all animalistic and alleviated, and he still doesn’t avert his eyes when he lets one of his hands wrap around Eddie’s dick, firm yet gentle, and his breath hitches.

All common sense, all dignity Eddie has tried to sustain, it all flies out the window when he starts moving up and down, agonizingly slow moves that make Eddie want to take over, gain the control he yearns for.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he watches as Buck’s trembling fingers slide over his length, testing the feel, carefully tightening his grasp every now and then, waiting for some kind of reaction.

“Shit,” Eddie pleads, mind empty, heart beating fast. His entire skin is on fire, fists digging into the mattress. “ More .”

It’s not a request. It’s an order. Buck gulps.

“More?” he weakly asks, his voice eternally husky. 

“I need more,” Eddie nods under his breath, his entire body tense. “I need you , Buck. Now.”

Without any further hesitation, Buck complies and leans down, an almost raunchy smirk on his lips. He lets his tongue dart out, find the scorching hot skin of Eddie’s cock, licking a strip all the way to the tip. 

All while maintaining their eye contact, his pupils wider than ever before, peeking out from behind unfairly long lashes.

“Like this?” he dares to ask, a challenging look on his face. Eddie just moans in response, all words out of his grasp.

This man will be the death of him, he’s sure of it.

There is a heat spreading all throughout him, no coherent thoughts forming in his mind. All he can really feel at this very moment is the almost tender way Buck is now placing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down his length, from the head to where it connects to the rest of his body, and back up again. 

When he lets his tongue swirl around the tip again, there is a choked sound escaping Eddie, somewhere between a gasp and a moan.

This son of a bitch is teasing him. The frustration is slowly bubbling up in his lower stomach, and he lets his eyes flutter shut, throwing his head back, pushing it into the softness of his pillow.

The worst part is that it’s working . Never before has he felt this amount of greed for someone.

“Buck,” he lowly grits out, a warning tone to it all.

And Buck complies. He takes him into his mouth, and Eddie’s entire body tenses up. He doesn’t dare to breathe.

The inside of Buck’s mouth is warm and wet, and when he slowly begins to move, Eddie is goddamn close to losing it. 

There is so much need boiling up in his lower belly, a need for more, a need for a release he’s beginning to chase—a need for Buck in his entirety.

Eddie lets the wave of desire wash over him, has one hand buried in Buck’s curls to gently guide him, adjusting the rhythm just a bit, his hips slightly moving along with it all automatically.

He’s letting out an array of muttered praises, his eyes fluttering shut, no matter how hard he tries to keep his focus.

Buck groans deeply and works his fingers around Eddie’s base, squeezing and twisting gently, careful not to hurt him. He licks and sucks and gently scrapes his teeth over Eddie’s length when he pulls up, gasping for air. His moves are controlled, practiced, getting more and more intense by the second. He simply knows how to get certain reactions out of him, how to make Eddie’s breath catch in the back of his throat. 

Eddie is about to fall apart. He arches off the mattress, and he lets his other hand slide into Buck’s hair now, too. 

“God, yes,” he sighs blissfully, “Just like that.”

Buck replies with an agreeing hum that reverberates through Eddie’s dick, then buzzes through his entire body. 

He’s close. He can feel it bubbling up inside of him, this wonderful feeling, the high he’s reaching for with every buck of his hip. 

“Shit, Buck, you’re so— You’re gonna make me…”

Buck’s hands hold onto his sides now, grasping tightly. His head is still bobbing up and down, going along with the rhythm Eddie has set him up to, occasionally adding the teasing lick of his tongue to the mix. 

He’s submitting to whatever Eddie wants, allowing him to take what he needs. 

And right now, all Eddie needs is to finally feel that heavenly feeling of release, letting go of everything for a moment. His movements grow sloppy, uncontrolled, and the sounds escaping him turn croaky and hoarse, and before he even knows it, he’s coming, his head thrown back with a loud moan, his eyes closed, his hands now desperately holding onto the comforter.

But Buck doesn’t stop. Even without Eddie’s guidance, he continues to work his way up and down, taking as much of his cock in as he can, gagging and gasping around it. 

He could pull away. He could avoid getting all of Eddie’s release spurted against the very back of his throat and tongue.

But he doesn’t. He almost seems greedy to get it all, even.

And then it’s over.

Buck pulls back, panting. Eddie can literally hear his grin with every single desperate gasp for air, a divine sound that’s ringing in his ears, reverberating through his bones. 

He stares up at the ceiling for a moment, completely out of breath. His limbs are numb, his skin tingling, his brain empty. His lungs ache from how shallow he’s breathing, from how frantically he’s trying to calm down from his high.

A sense of relaxation spreads through him, a shower of relief he’s drowning in, taking over his lungs and everything else, too. 

That’s when it hits him. This is actually happening. 

Eddie just let Buck suck him off. 

In Buck’s bed. 

At 8 in the morning.

And he enjoyed it. 

He looks down to find milky strings of spit and come dripping from Buck’s chin, connecting to his now sensitive cock.

His best friend has never looked better. 

If that’s even remotely close to what they are right now.
Eddie knows it’s not. He doesn’t want it to be.

Their eyes meet, and Buck licks his lips, gulping. He’s shifted off Eddie, legs angled underneath him. He is still violently out of breath. 

“So…” he hesitantly begins, and Eddie shakes his head, a small smile curving his lips upward. 

“Come here,” he orders softly, and he reaches up and takes a hold of Buck’s chin with his pointer and thumb, pulling him down until their faces are inches apart. 

Buck hesitates. “Are you su–”

“Stop asking if I’m sure, Buck,” Eddie interrupts him, voice gentle but accusatory. “I’ve never been so sure of anything.”

“I-I-It’s just that T— I mean, uh,” Buck stutters, taken aback, his eyes flicking all over Eddie’s face. “Usually, people don’t really want to… kiss me right after I—”

“Oh my God , shut up,” Eddie groans, and nudges his face forward, letting their lips clash with a force he didn’t know he still had left in him. Buck gives in with a sigh after just a brief moment.
The kiss is a bit salty and sticky, but Eddie doesn’t care. Buck’s hands are pressing into the mattress on either side of him now, his chest hitting his with every ragged breath. 

“You are…” Eddie speaks against his mouth, still hazy. “…unbelievable.”

Buck breaks the kiss. “In a good way, I hope,” he grins teasingly, then steals another kiss. 

“You know it,” Eddie mumbles against his lips, smiling. “Thanks for… taking care of me, Buck.”

He awkwardly pulls his briefs and jeans back up, but doesn’t even attempt to close a zipper or button—his hands still feel a bit like jell-o, along with the rest of his body.

“Can’t believe this actually happened,” Buck admits quietly, and Eddie softly laughs at that, because, well, neither can he. He’s spent years trying to figure out why he’s never felt one hundred percent comfortable in his relationships. Why it has always felt like a performance more than anything. 

And here he is, hazy and drowsy, in Buck’s bed, feeling more like himself than ever before.

When he looks up into those glistening blue eyes once more, he knows.

It’s always been Buck.

He could have spent his entire life looking for the right person anywhere else, and he would have never found them. Because none of them would have been Buck Buckley. 

Buck runs a gentle hand over Eddie’s hair, taming the mess, and it brings him back to reality. The reality that doesn’t feel real just yet. 

“Buck,” Eddie mumbles, his mind still clouded, his voice quiet and hoarse. “I… I’m so confused.”

Buck’s hand pauses, palm flush against Eddie’s cheek, and he tilts his head in confusion. 

“By me?” he asks cautiously, letting his thumb run a smooth half circle underneath Eddie’s eye. He attempts to pull his hand away altogether, but Eddie gently holds him in place, fingers curling around his wrist. 

“No,” he sighs, closing his eyes, savoring this feeling, this moment. “By me , Buck.”

“Oh,” Buck croaks, and presses his lips into a tight line. “Because you never…”

“… knew I could feel this way about a person and not realize it for almost eight whole years,” Eddie finishes the sentence for him, and Buck’s lips curl up in an almost shy smile. It’s cute. With his cheeks flush and his brows turned up like this, it’s kind of hard to believe how loud and confident he usually is. Right now, there is only affection on his face. 

Affection for Eddie and Eddie only.

“And it seems like I missed out,” he adds, his free hand shooting up, pulling Buck down to close the distance between them again. 

This is what it was always meant to feel like. The exciting thrill, the buzz rushing through your veins, the way all thoughts fade into the background. Something you crave with your entire being, not something you feel obligated to do.

“So did I” Buck mumbles as he pulls away, keeping his face so close to Eddie’s that their breaths still mingle between them. “I think you’ve just become such a fundamental part of my… existence that any feelings I’ve developed for you have always just felt natural , you know?”

Eddie considers his words for a while, eyes flicking all over Buck’s face. 

“Yeah,” he eventually mumbles. “I know. I know exactly what you mean.”

His stomach growls, instantly easing the tension between them. Lentil curry can only still hunger so long. Buck chuckles at the sound and pokes Eddie’s soft stomach, a teasing yet intimate little gesture. 

“How about breakfast?” he asks, and Eddie feels his cheeks heat up. Because yes, he wants breakfast, preferably those fluffy pancakes Buck often makes, but he also feels weary and in desperate need of cleaning up.

“How about a shower first?” he grins, half tired, half suggestive. Buck rolls his eyes, but still has his lips caught in a smile as he steals another kiss. 

“Is that an invitation?” he mutters into Eddie’s mouth, and Eddie laughs. His heart flutters like a caged butterfly, light and feathery, a newfound comfort he knows will become his new normal. 

“Do you want it to be?” he asks. Buck’s mouth wanders off, lays a path of pecks up to his ear.

“I think you know the answer, Eddie,” he whispers, and Eddie’s entire skin erupts into goosebumps. “So greedy for me already, huh?”

They end up tumbling out of bed and undressing each other with careful, clumsy movements, kissing while stumbling to the bathroom. It’s a bit insane, how quickly Eddie has gotten comfortable with the way he wants Buck, physically and emotionally and everything in between. The shower is hot and steams up the mirror in no time, and Eddie has Buck pressed against the white-tiled wall, hands roaming, exploring his body, rubbing and squeezing over his thick thighs and soft sides, his bulky biceps, then his broad back. He lets his lips find all the sweet, sensitive spots on Buck’s neck and chest, figures out just what touch can evoke the most wonderful sounds. Sounds that only he will hear from now on, private, intimate, loaded with lust, with the need for more.

When they’re both out of breath, hazy, and most importantly, clean, Eddie puts on some of Buck’s clothes, gray sweatpants and a black, oversized t-shirt. He then comes downstairs, where Buck is already mixing the batter for his infamous pancakes, an apron looped around his neck and back. He’s shirtless, wears a pair of black athletic shorts and brightly white socks, his hair air-drying into the most gorgeous curls.
They end up kissing some more, Eddie halfway pushed up onto the island counter, heart beating out of control and one leg hooked around Buck’s, and the pancakes almost burn. 

He can’t remember if he’s ever craved to kiss someone so much, to touch someone constantly, a hand on the arm or on the waist. He wonders whether he’s felt this way about Buck all along. If it’s something he’s always dismissed as something else, or if it’s something that developed over time, grew stronger with every passing day, every near-death-experience, every shared glance across the room. 

Not that it matters anymore. Nothing else matters when he lets himself get enveloped by Buck, lets himself drown in the feelings that shamelessly stir within him now. 

They will figure it all out. They always do. 

After all, they’re Buck and Eddie. Best friends and more. 

Meant-to-be, bound to end up together. 

Souls entwined, hearts molten into one.

Now, and forever.