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I Can’t Keep My Hands Off Of You

Summary:

Eddie Diaz always thought he just had a low sex drive. Sex and the desire to touch his partner was just never really a big part of him or his relationships until… Buck.
A switch had flipped in his brain and suddenly sex was always on his mind. :3

Buck discovers Eddie’s new love language being physical touch and sometimes those touches get steamy very quickly. :3

And soon, the 118 became the victims of seeing too much PTA between the two men. :3

Smut, love, family, touching, fucking <3

Notes:

Wrote this to cheer myself up after last episode. Fuck you writers of the show >:(

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Eddie had always been a simple practical man. Emotions, needs, desires – he kept them compartmentalized, locked away in neat little boxes. Sex belonged in a small, dusty box labelled ‘Low Priority’ . He’d been in relationships, sure, but the physical aspect always felt… obligatory . He'd chalked it up to him just having a low sex drive, maybe even a lack of chemistry. It wasn't something he dwelled on. He just accepted it and moved on. 

Then Buck arrived, a whirlwind of sunshine and relentless optimism. And with Buck came a mental shift. It wasn't instantaneous, more like a slow burn that ignited into a raging inferno. Suddenly, the dusty box labelled ‘Low Priority’ exploded, showering his brain with images and desires Eddie had never known he possessed.

Buck's soft skin, the way his waist curved ever so softly, the surprising strength in his arms, the curve of his pretty lips when he smiled – these details replayed like a continuous loop in Eddie's mind. He'd be at the park with Christopher, watching Buck throw a baseball, and suddenly he'd be thinking about running his hands through Buck's hair. He'd be at the grocery store, reaching for the same carton of eggs, and an overwhelming urge to kiss Buck right there between the dairy aisle and the frozen foods would wash over him. Whenever they sat together on a couch, watching a movie or playing video games, his hand itched to grab hold of Buck’s thigh. He wanted to feel the thick flesh in his grasp. 

At first, he was good at hiding it. Years in the military had honed his poker face. But as their relationship deepened, as stolen glances turned into lingering touches, and whispered secrets evolved into shared breaths, the dam began to crack. The need to touch, to taste, to be close to Buck became a constant, gnawing ache.

He started small. A hand on Buck's back, an extra squeeze of his hand, a lingering hug that lasted just a little too long. Buck, ever oblivious to the internal battle raging within Eddie, would simply smile and return the gesture or lean in. But for Eddie, it was torture. It was a tease. He wanted more.

It was both exhilarating and terrifying.

He found himself constantly fighting the urge to reach out, to brush a stray curl from Buck's forehead, to rest his hand on the small of his back, to tug him closer. He’d catch himself staring, lingering on the curve of Buck’s jaw, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

And Buck seemed to thrive under the attention. He’d lean into Eddie’s touch more and more, his smile widening, his blue eyes sparkling. He’d even initiate it himself, draping an arm around Eddie’s shoulders or bumping their hips together when they were crowded in the kitchen.

Torture. Glorious, wonderful torture.

And quickly, Eddie’s possessiveness grew. He wanted to claim Buck, to mark him as his own for the world to see. He wanted to be the beginning and end of Buck's sensory world. He knew it was irrational, that Buck was his own person, but the primal need to protect and cherish him was overwhelming.

A hand on Buck’s thigh under the table during dinner, a lingering kiss on his neck when he thought no one was looking. But soon, the restraint began to fray. He'd find any excuse to touch Buck – adjusting his collar, straightening his shirt, running a hand through his messy hair.

The 118 quickly became collateral damage.

"Guys," Hen groaned one day, covering her eyes as Eddie leaned across the engine to whisper something in Buck's ear, his hand resting possessively on his shoulder. "Get a room!"

Chimney choked on his coffee. "I swear, if I see one more lingering look, I'm going to lose it."

Even Bobby started to look strained. "Diaz," He sighed one day, rubbing his temples. "A little discretion, please?"

One particularly memorable incident occurred during a call at a retirement home. They were helping an elderly woman who had tripped and fallen. As Buck was gently reassuring her, Eddie, standing guard nearby, reached out and began massaging the back of Buck’s neck.

"Eddie," Buck said, his voice a little breathless. "Little busy here."

Eddie, oblivious, just squeezed his neck tighter. "Just making sure you're okay," He murmured, his voice low and husky.

The elderly woman, bless her pointed little heart, chuckled. "Young love," She wheezed. "So sweet."

Behind them, Hen and Chimney shared a look of utter despair. Chim even threatened to call HR. 

Despite the good-natured ribbing (and the occasional eye roll), deep down, the 118 was happy for Eddie and Buck. They knew how much they meant to each other. But that didn't mean they wanted to witness the constant, relentless display of affection. There was a limit, after all. Eddie wasn’t oblivious to it. He just didn’t care. He was too caught up in the exquisite joy of touching Buck, of knowing that Buck wanted to be touched. It was a revelation, a brand new world of sensation and connection that he couldn't get enough of.

One evening, after a particularly long and stressful shift, Eddie and Buck were sprawled on the couch, neither of them was actually paying attention to the show that played on the TV. Eddie was tracing patterns on Buck's bare arm, his fingertips sending shivers down his spine.

"You know," Buck said, his voice soft. "The team's been complaining more about the PDA."

Eddie stopped his invisible finger painting. "Really?" He felt a pang of guilt. He hadn't meant to make them uncomfortable in any way.      

Buck chuckled, nuzzling into Eddie's neck. "I like it, Eds." He whispered, then added, "I love it when you touch me."

Eddie smiled, a slow, possessive smile. "Well," he said, pulling Buck closer. "Maybe we should be more discreet." He kissed Buck softly, lingering on his lips. "Or maybe," he murmured against his skin, "we should just get a room. Then I can touch you wherever I want."

Buck laughed, a happy, breathless sound. "I like that plan."

And that’s how they ended up in their room. 

Buck's breath hitched, his thighs trembling slightly as he lowered himself onto Eddie's cock. He moaned softly, a sound that vibrated through both their bodies, sending shivers down Eddie's spine.

Eddie's hands immediately found Buck's waist, gripping tightly to claim him. His fingers dug into the soft flesh harshly and an animalistic part of him hoped bruises would bloom under his hands. Buck's skin was warm and smooth, a perfect contrast to the rough texture of Eddie's palms. Eddie's eyes never left Buck's face, watching as pleasure and need clouded his features.

"Ride me, baby," Eddie commanded, his voice deep with desire. "Show me how much you love my touch."

Buck nodded, his eyes half-lidded with lust, and began to move, sliding up and down on Eddie's cock with deliberate strokes. Each movement was slow and controlled, savouring the feel of Eddie inside him. Eddie's grip on his waist tightened, guiding him, urging him to go faster, harder. 

“That’s it, querida . Take it.” (Sweetheart) 

He leaned forward, nuzzling Buck's neck, licking and biting the sensitive skin there. Buck whimpered, cradling Eddie’s head to keep him there.

Eddie's teeth followed the curve of Buck's shoulder, kissing and nipping his way down to the pert nipple, which he latched onto with a growl. He suckled gently at first, then more forcefully, tugging until Buck cried out, his body arching involuntarily.

"E-Eddie... please ..." Buck panted, his voice shaky with need. "I... more… I need..."

Eddie released Buck's nipple with a pop, his eyes dark with greed. “ Te encanta mi tacto, ¿no es así, amor? (you love my touch, don't you, love?) 

“Eddie!” 

¡Contesta! (Answer me!) 

“Y-Yes! Yes! I-I- M-Me encanta! Don’t stop!” (I love it.)  

With that, Eddie shifted his grip, one hand moving to cup Buck's ass, squeezing the firm cheeks roughly. He used his leverage to guide Buck's movements, thrusting up into him with a rhythm that built steadily. Buck's moans grew louder, more desperate and whiney, as the friction increased, driving him closer and closer to the edge.

The room was now filled with the sounds of their flesh meeting, the slap of skin on skin echoing off the walls - it was a good thing Christopher was at a sleepover. 

Buck's cries of pleasure were muffled by Eddie's lips, which captured his mouth in a searing kiss. Their tongues danced together, slick and urgent, sharing breaths, sharing air as they lost themselves in the intensity of passion.

Suddenly, Eddie pulled out, making Buck whine - only to let out a loud moan when Eddie flipped him on his hands and knees. Eddie quickly slid back into him. 

Buck let out a groan and clenched around Eddie who let out a sharp breath of air. 

“Fuck, Buck,” Eddie grit out and started moving his hips, slow and solid. 

His hand started at Buck’s shoulder then travelled down over lightly freckled skin. His shoulder blade, his back, his waist, his hip. When he got to his hip he dug in his fingertips and Buck let out a noise of lust. 

Buck dropped his head forwards, biting his tongue, trying not to scream his pleasures. 

Eddie’s thrusts sped up as though he knew exactly what Buck wanted. Eddie tilted Buck’s neck so he could lick and kiss and suck at all the bruises he made earlier, making them bloom pretty red. Buck loved hickeys. Loved the marks Eddie gave. He loved to be taken, claimed, and owned by Eddie. And he loved that everyone could see the evidence on his flesh. 

Eddie murmured endearments in Buck’ ear, both in Spanish and English, telling him how amazing he felt, how sweet he tasted, how he was Eddie’s. 

The man on top started pistoling into Buck harder and harder, hips slapping. Buck’s thighs shook, fingers fisting the sheets below, eyes closed and mouth open in bliss.

The sounds they made were sinful at best. Their position shifted just the slightest and Buck had spread his legs more so he could get his cock and his balls brushing the sheets below. The feeling was electrifying, and soon enough he’s whimpering, grinding desperately into the mattress with Eddie pounding into him behind him.

“Dios, Buck, always so fucking tight for me.” Eddie groaned, biting at Buck’ ear. Buck whined and reached a hand back, scrabbling at Eddie until his hand cupped the back of Eddie’s neck to keep him close. In response, Eddie squeezed into Buck’ thighs, then his ass, circling his hips to dig his cock in deeper. 

“H-Harder! E-Eddie, por favor, por favor, por favor! (please, please, please!) 

That has Eddie growling and slamming into Buck hard. 

“Look at you, cariño . Desperate, needy.” Eddie muttered, chuckling darkly, “Taking me so well. Te sientes tan bien. ”  (Darling. you feel so good)  

Buck let out a filthy moan, legs vibrating with ecstasy. Eddie wrapped his fist around Buck’s cock, jerking him at a quick pace. Buck grabbed the sheets with white knuckles, his hips unsure of which touch to move into. Eddie’s jacking him off, he’s grinding against the sheets, and Eddie’s cock is pounding into him from behind. Buck felt loose and boneless and like every single one of his nerves was on fire. 

“F-Fuck, Eddie ,” Buck gasped, clenching around the cock inside him when Eddie squeezed his own. “ P-Por favor! ” Buck begged, his breathing harsh. “Eds, Eddie! Ah !”

“I’ve got you, cariño . I’ve got you.” Eddie breathed the words into Buck’s neck. He knew Buck wasn’t gonna last long and Eddie himself wasn’t gonna last long either. He interlaced his hand with Buck’s with his free hand. Buck was shaking and whimpering underneath him and Eddie squeezed his hand and kissed up his neck and then pressed his lips to Buck’ ear and growled, “You’re mine .”

Buck came hard and with a long moan, come pulsing over Eddie’s hand and onto the sheets. Eddie groaned at the feeling of Buck clenching so tight around him he’s pretty sure he saw stars. He nuzzled back into Buck's neck, nipping at the skin there before finally coming too. His teeth set firmly around the area between Buck’ shoulder and his neck, Buck whining loudly at the sensation, his hips still stuttering weakly.

“Mine, Buck, you’re mine.” Eddie groaned, “Mine to touch, to feel, to love. No one is gonna tell me otherwise, y’hear? Mine.”  

Buck nodded frantically, agreeing with every word. “Yours, yours to touch. Please, never stop touching me, Eds. Please .” He croaked out, his eyes shut and his head tilted back. He kept clenching around Eddie, rocking his hips back and forth on Eddie, milking it until there’s nothing left.

“Don’t worry, querida .” He whispered into the calm, “You know that I can’t keep my hands off of you.” 

The morning after was… interesting to say the least. The endorphins were still humming, the memories sharp and electric, but the physical reality… well, that was a different story. Buck walked into the 118, trying his best to project an air of casual normalcy. He failed, miserably .

He winced as he lowered himself onto one of the fire house’s cushioned seats. A small, involuntary sound escaped his throat.

Hen, ever observant, raised an eyebrow. “Everything alright, Buckaroo? You look like you’ve been riding a particularly grumpy horse.”

Chimney grinned and chimed in, glancing at his bruised neck, “Yeah, Buck. It looks like you wrestled an alligator and lost.”

Bobby, pouring himself a cup of coffee, just chuckled. "Rough night, son?" 

Buck’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson. He glared at them, but a small smile tugged at his lips. He knew they were just teasing. “Alright, alright, lay off. I just… didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Across the room, Eddie, who had been quietly polishing his gear, finally looked up. His gaze locked onto Buck, a possessive glint in his eyes that was unmistakable. It wasn't lust, not entirely. It was something deeper, a quiet claim. A slow smile spread across Eddie's face as he took in Buck’s discomfort, not with malice, but with a smug understanding that he alone was responsible. 

The teasing continued throughout the morning and Eddie relished it. He enjoyed the way Buck’s embarrassment flared. 

Later that afternoon, while Buck was refilling the water cooler, Eddie approached him. "Rough time sleeping, huh?" He murmured, leaning close.

Buck rolled his eyes, but couldn't suppress a smile. "You have no idea."

Eddie's hand found its way to the small of Buck's back, just above where he was most sore. He applied just enough pressure to elicit a soft groan. "Maybe I do," He whispered, his breath warm against Buck's ear. "And maybe," He continued, his voice dropping even lower, "we should go to bed early tonight, try and get some more shuteye." 

Buck leaned into Eddie, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I think us going to bed early is the entire reason why I’m so sore."

“I told you, cariño .” Said Eddie, giving Buck a gentle kiss, “I can’t keep my hands off of you.” 

 

The End :3 

 

Notes:

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