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Buck had been living with Eddie for six months.
Somewhere along the way, a few careful boundaries had started to blur. It wasn't some type of sudden revelation, not really a lightning-bolt moment. Just a slow accumulation of domesticity that had wormed its way under his skin until he found himself doing things he couldn't quite justify as purely platonic.
Two weeks in, he’d memorized that Eddie preferred his coffee with exactly one and a half sugars. Did he also start making it every morning without being asked? Maybe. By week three, Buck was sliding the mug across the counter each morning just as Eddie stumbled into the kitchen. It was a daily ritual at this point.
He’d make some other concessions, like stopping by a specific market on his way home to grab that one brand of jalapeño chips Eddie mentioned liking once, a few weeks ago– and then doing it again the next week, and the week after that. He definitely didn’t spend a weekend learning to make albondigas the way Eddie's abuela did. It took so much time perfecting the recipe, but the way Eddie had looked at him with such genuine warmth made it all worth it.
But it went deeper than that now.
It was the way Eddie would brush past him in the kitchen, hand briefly touching his lower back, and Buck would have to grip the counter to steady himself. It was how they'd fallen into a rhythm of cooking together on weekends, moving around each other felt almost choreographed– Eddie chopped while Buck stirred. Buck would raise an eyebrow at Eddie's cooking disasters, or how Eddie had learned to anticipate exactly when Buck would need a beer after a rough shift and would have one waiting on the counter.
Eddie had even started leaving his laundry in Buck's room by accident– or maybe not by accident– and Buck had started folding it carefully, breathing in the scent of Eddie's detergent.
The latest development occurred during a cocktail-laden movie night. Eddie had picked a horror movie– of course he’d picked a horror movie– and Buck was a little more of a scaredy-cat when he’s tipsy. During the buildup to a super-obvious jumpscare, buck had been scrambling for a blanket. Eddie, without taking his eyes off the screen, just casually threw the blanket he was using over Buck too. In his moment of shock– definitely not because of the incoming jumpscare, Buck didn’t say anything and just enjoyed being blanketed with Eddie. Since that night, they'd begun sharing the same blanket on the couch during every late-night movie marathon.
It was small things. Careful things. Things that Eddie did to let Buck orbit closer without crossing any lines. Except the lines had already been crossed somewhere along the way, and Buck was pretty sure Eddie knew it too.
This morning, Buck stood at the stove browning ground beef for meal prep, the kitchen filling with the savory scent of cumin and garlic. He'd already chopped vegetables for the week and had containers lined up on the counter to make Eddie's favorite burrito bowls. It was Buck's own recipe, coconut-lime rice and mango salsa, and it was something that Eddie always devoured after particularly brutal shifts.
Right as the routine of cooking settled into Buck, Eddie had begun to emerge from the hallway.
Buck glanced over his shoulder, ready with some comment about “finally dragging himself out of bed”, and every coherent thought in his skull evaporated.
Eddie looked like he'd been through a war with his mattress and lost. Hair sticking up at odd angles, eyes still heavy-lidded with sleep, stubble darkening his jaw. He wore grey sweatpants slung on his hips, and a faded black t-shirt that had clearly seen better days.
What really caught his attention though, was the text on the t-shirt.
Across Eddie’s chest, in bold white letters: WARNING! CHOKING HAZARD, accompanied with a large downwards pointing arrow.
Pointing straight down to Eddie's crotch.
Buck's hand froze mid-stir. The wooden spoon trembled slightly before he forced himself to turn back to the stove, heart suddenly hammering against his ribs.
"Morning," Eddie mumbled, voice rough and sleep-graveled in a way that did absolutely nothing to help Buck's situation. He shuffled toward the coffee maker, apparently unconcerned about his wardrobe choice.
Buck managed to let out a strangled noise that could have passed as a greeting, focusing intently on the beef as if it required his complete attention. He couldn't help but notice Eddie reaching for a mug, stretching slightly, and how his shirt rode up to reveal a strip of hairy, tanned skin above his waistband. He yawned, scratching absently at his stomach before grabbing the coffee pot.
Buck cleared his throat. "Laundry day?" His voice came out higher than intended.
"Hm?" Eddie glanced down at himself while pouring coffee. "Oh. Yeah, I finally got around to it yesterday but didn't fold anything. This was literally the only clean thing I could find this morning." He added sugar to his mug, completely casual. "Pretty sure the rest is still in the dryer."
"Right. Makes sense." Buck stirred the beef with laser focus, using the motion to steady himself. "Where'd you even– where'd you get that shirt?"
Eddie looked down at the text like he was seeing it for the first time. "This? Uh..." He squinted at it, thinking. "Shannon gave it to me, it was a gag gift for my birthday? Or two-week anniversary, I don't know, I just threw it in a drawer and forgot about it." He shrugged and took a sip of coffee. "Why?"
"No reason. Just– just wondering." Buck's grip tightened on the wooden spoon. He needed to say something else, something normal. "So, uh, you catching the game today?"
"Yeah, actually. There's a replay of last night's match I missed." Eddie leaned against the counter, cradling his mug. "You wanna watch? Could be fun."
Buck's brain supplied an extremely detailed image of exactly what would happen if he sat next to Eddie on the couch while Eddie wore that shirt, and he had to shake his head to clear it. "I– maybe later. Got some stuff to finish up here first."
"Cool." Eddie took another sip, seemingly oblivious to Buck's internal crisis. He nodded at the pan of beef sizzling underneath Buck, "What are you making? Smells really good."
"Just some meal prep, the usual burrito bowls." Buck was talking too fast. He forced himself to slow down. "Should last us through most of the week."
"Man, you're the best." Eddie's smile was warm and genuine, and it made Buck's chest ache. "Seriously, I don't know what I'd eat if you weren't here. Probably cereal for every meal."
"That's– that's not healthy," Buck managed, turning back to add the tomatoes. His hands weren't entirely steady.
"Exactly why I keep you around." Eddie joked as he pushed off the counter. "Alright, I'm gonna go watch that game. Are you sure you don't want to join?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. I'll probably come watch in a bit."
"Your loss. I heard the beginning was crazy" Eddie headed toward the living room, mug in hand, and the shirt shifted as he moved, fabric pulling across his shoulders, that goddamn arrow pointing down with every step.
Buck stood frozen at the stove, wooden spoon still in hand, staring after him until Eddie disappeared around the corner.
The kitchen suddenly felt much too warm.
He turned back to the beef, but his hands weren't entirely steady. His pulse hadn't slowed– if anything, it had picked up speed, because now he was alone with his thoughts and they were spiraling fast.
That shirt. That fucking shirt.
And Eddie had no idea. No fucking clue what that arrow was doing to Buck. He'd just thrown it on because it was clean and now he was walking around completely oblivious to the fact that Buck was losing his mind.
Buck had given head before. Really enjoyed it, actually– the weight of a dick on his tongue, the sounds he could pull from his partners, especially the heady rush of making someone fall apart. Buck loved the idea that just his mouth could pull so much pleasure out of a person.
But he'd never struggled with it. He’d never blown someone big enough to make him work for it, to make his jaw ache, to push him past comfortable into challenging– and God, he wanted to see if Eddie's choking hazard could change that.
Buck exhaled shakily and forced himself to focus on the pan. The beef was starting to stick. He rescued it hastily, adjusting the heat before adding the spices.
But his brain wouldn't let it go.
It supplied an extremely detailed image: Eddie's back against the counter, Buck on his knees between his legs, working him over slowly while Eddie watched with his big eyes. Would Eddie let him set the pace? Let him explore and tease until Eddie was trembling? Or would Eddie get impatient, thread his fingers through Buck's hair and push him, controlling the depth and rhythm until Buck was gagging on it?
Buck always hated head pushers. He found it to be such a selfish power play that prioritized one person's pleasure over the other's comfort. He'd turned down partners for less. But the thought of Eddie doing it– Eddie's big hands in his hair, Eddie's hips thrusting into his mouth, Eddie taking what he wanted made Buck's knees weak. He'd let Eddie do it in a heartbeat, and would honestly probably beg for it. That thought alone was enough to make him dizzy.
He'd never choked on a cock before, but that was literally because never had someone thick enough or long enough to make him gag. If he had the chance, he wanted to try. Preferably with Eddie, within a very timely manner.
Buck's grip tightened on the wooden spoon. He needed to add the tomatoes. He reached for the cutting board, but his mind kept circling back.
Would Eddie be vocal? Buck had heard him during workouts, those low grunts of exertion, and the sound had lodged itself somewhere in Buck's hindbrain where it replayed at extremely inconvenient moments. Like now, when he was imagining those same sounds but breathier, laced with more desperation, as they were punched out of Eddie's chest by Buck hollowing his cheeks and sucking.
He could still smell Eddie's body wash lingering in the kitchen– something clean and faintly woodsy. If he closed his eyes, he could still see the way the morning light had caught in his hair, turning it almost bronze at the edges. There was the ghost of Eddie's heat behind him, so close that Buck could have just turned, crowded him back against the counter, dropped to his knees and–
Buck exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders in an effort to relax.
This was fine. Eddie was just existing in his space, wearing a stupid shirt, completely unaware that Buck was having a full-scale crisis.
Except Buck couldn't stop thinking about that arrow. Couldn't stop imagining what it would feel like to prove that warning label accurate.
His body had other ideas. Heat simmered under his skin, coiling tight in his stomach, and he knew– absolutely knew– that he was going to spend the rest of the morning desperately trying not to think about this.
The beef sizzled, snapping him back to reality.
Buck turned back to the stove and tried very hard to focus on cooking.
It was going to be a very long day.
-
Buck finished up the meal prep, using the repetitive motions to ground himself. He portioned out the seasoned beef into containers, added measured scoops of rice, black beans, and fresh vegetables to each one. The routine was methodical, calming in theory– seal the lids, stack them in the fridge, wipe down the counter. His hands moved through the familiar motions while his mind stayed firmly lodged in the gutter.
By the time he'd cleaned up the last of the dishes and wiped down the stovetop, the kitchen was spotless. Buck dried his hands on a towel and was about to head to his room when Eddie emerged from the living room, stretching as he walked back into the kitchen.
The shirt rode up again with the motion, exposing again that strip of hairy skin, and Buck's breath caught.
"Holy moly, It smells amazing," Eddie said, moving toward the fridge to check out the prepped containers. "Seriously Buck, you're spoiling me."
Buck busied himself with hanging the towel on the rack, needing something to do with his hands. "Just making sure we eat decent this week."
Eddie pulled out one of the containers, examining it with obvious appreciation. "You know you don't have to do all this, right? I mean, I appreciate it, but–"
"I want to," Buck interrupted, then immediately regretted how eager he sounded.
Eddie glanced up and gave him a smile coupled with a wink. He set the container back in the fridge and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl instead. "Well, thanks. Really."
He bit into the apple and wandered back toward the living room, and Buck exhaled slowly, willing his pulse to settle.
A cold shower did practically nothing. Buck stood under the spray until his skin prickled with goosebumps, but the moment he stepped out, his thoughts spiraled right back to the arrow pointing downward like some sick joke.
He dressed quickly and headed back to the kitchen desperate for distraction. To his horrible luck, Eddie was already there. He was leaning against the counter with his phone in one hand and a protein bar in the other. The shirt had ridden up slightly, exposing his hip bone, and Buck's words died in his throat.
"Hey," Eddie said without looking up.
"Hey." Buck grabbed a glass from the cabinet, filled it at the sink, and drank it too fast. He could feel Eddie's eyes on him as he heaved.
"You good?"
"Yeah. Fine." Buck set the glass down harder than necessary and turned to leave, but Eddie's voice stopped him.
"Buck." Eddie's tone had shifted to something less casual and more observant. "What's going on? You've been acting weird all morning."
Buck's chest tightened. He couldn't do this, pretending everything was normal when his entire body was screaming at him to just–
"Nothing's going on," Buck said, forcing a laugh that came out strained. "I'm fine. Just feeling more tired than I expected after all that cooking."
"Buck..." Eddie didn't look convinced. He set his phone down on the counter and crossed his arms. "You're not fine, you won't even look at me."
"I'm looking at you right now," Buck protested, but his eyes immediately darted away, landing somewhere around Eddie's shoulder.
"Buck." Eddie's voice was patient but firm. "Talk to me. Did I do something?"
"No, you didn't–" Buck ran a hand through his hair, his face flushing. "It's not you. It's just... it's been a long morning, that's all."
Eddie stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he studied Buck's face. "You're lying. Your voice gets higher when you lie, and you keep clenching your jaw. So what is it? Are you mad at me? Did something happen?"
"I'm not mad," Buck said quickly, too quickly. His hands were shaking slightly, so he shoved them in his pockets. "Everything's fine, Eddie. You're reading too much into this."
"Am I?" Eddie tilted his head, and Buck could feel the weight of his gaze. "Because you look like you're about to vibrate out of your skin, and you've been staring at my chest for the past two minutes."
Buck's face went completely red. "I haven't been– It's the shirt," Buck blurted out, letting the words tumble out before he could stop them.
Eddie blinked. "What?"
"The shirt. It's–" Buck gestured vaguely at Eddie's chest, his face burning. "That shirt."
Eddie looked down at himself, then back up at Buck with genuine confusion etched on his face. "What's wrong with it? Is there a stain or something?"
"No, it's not–" Buck pressed his palms against his eyes. "It's the– the warning label."
Buck couldn't look at him. His heart was hammering so hard he thought it might break through his ribs.
"The–" Eddie glanced down again, reading the text like he was seeing it for the first time. "Oh! I know it's stupid, but it was the only clean thing left." He paused. "Wait, does it bother you? I can find a different shirt if–"
"No!" Buck's voice came out way too loud. "I mean– it doesn't bother me. That's not–" He broke off, unable to finish.
The silence stretched between them. Buck could feel Eddie's eyes on him, studying him. A moment later, Eddie tilted his head with a small smile playing on his lips.
"Is the shirt annoying you?" he asked, his tone genuinely curious but with an edge of amusement, like he found Buck's reaction endearing. "I can take it off if it bothers you that much."
Before Buck could respond, Eddie reached down and grabbed the hem of the shirt. In one fluid motion, he pulled it over his head and tossed it onto the counter, completely unbothered.
Buck's brain short-circuited.
Eddie stood there shirtless, and Buck's eyes went on a tour of their own– tracing the defined lines of his chest, the sculpted shoulders, the way his abs caught the kitchen light like carved marble. His skin was golden, unmarred except for a few faint scars that only made him look better. The dark hair scattered across his chest tapered down to a thin line that disappeared beneath the waistband of his sweatpants.
Eddie stretched slightly, completely at ease, and then glanced at Buck with that same playful smile. "So, uh, you got a shirt I can borrow? Mine's apparently offensive." He said it with a grin, clearly teasing now, clearly enjoying Buck's reaction but not quite understanding the full weight of what he was doing to him.
That was it. That was the final straw.
Buck couldn't take anymore of the casual innocence, the playful teasing. Eddie was standing there half-naked and grinning like an idiot who he hadn't just destroyed Buck's ability to think. Six months of careful control, of memorized coffee orders and stolen glances, all of it snapped in a single moment.
Buck closed the distance between them in two strides, his hands coming up to cup Eddie's face, and then he was kissing him– desperate and hungry and six months of wanting concentrated into the press of their lips.
Eddie went rigid for a moment– shocked by Buck's sudden advance– but it only lasted a beat before he recovered. Then he was fighting back, pushing his tongue against Buck's, dominating the kiss with focused intensity. Eddie's tongue swept deeper, claiming Buck's mouth, and Buck opened for him, surrendering to the pressure as Eddie took over completely.
Buck's hands moved of their own accord, fisting in Eddie's sweatpants, pulling him closer until their bodies were flush. Eddie's own hands slid down to Buck's hips, gripping hard enough to bruise, and Buck arched into the touch. He was already painfully hard, desperate for friction, and when Eddie pressed their bodies together, the pressure against his cock made him gasp into Eddie's mouth.
"Fuck," Eddie breathed against his lips, rolling his hips forward. Buck could feel him now– hot and hard through the thin fabric of his sweatpants– and the reality of it was so much better than the fantasy.
Buck was the one to break the kiss, panting into Eddie’s face and meeting his eyes. They were glassy with want, pupils blown so wide there was barely any brown left, and Buck had never seen anything more sexy.
"I want–," Buck's voice cracked. Of course his voice was failing him now, during maybe the most important moment of his life. He swallowed hard and tried again. "Eddie, let me– let me suck you off? Please?"
A grin flashed across Eddie's face. His grip on Buck's hips tightened for a moment before he released him, stepping back just enough to give Buck room. "Yeah? You sure?"
"Yeah." Buck said it with more certainty than anything in his life. He sank to his knees slowly, feeling the kitchen tile hard beneath his knees. His hands trembled as they slid down Eddie's thighs, feeling the muscle beneath the fabric. He paused there, kneeling before Eddie, heart hammering so hard he could hear it in his ears.
This was real. This was happening.
He leaned forward, hesitating just inches from Eddie's crotch, and breathed in. The scent hit him immediately– warm musk and clean laundry detergent. Buck's mouth watered. He pressed closer, nose brushing against the grey fabric, inhaling deeper, and felt Eddie's hand come to rest gently in his hair.
"My God, te ves tan sabroso," Eddie growled out as Buck continued to press his face into Eddie’s clothed erection.
Buck's fingers found the waistband of Eddie's sweatpants. He looked up, meeting Eddie's eyes one last time– giving him a chance to stop this– but Eddie just nodded, his expression open and hungry.
The sweatpants slid down easily, and Buck's breath caught.
No underwear. Eddie was bare beneath the grey fabric, half-hard, and as the sweatpants pooled around Eddie's ankles, Buck could only stare. Eddie's cock filled out further under his gaze, flushed dark with arousal, already leaking at the tip. Long enough that Buck swallowed in anticipation just looking at it. Thick enough that Buck's fingers wouldn't touch if he wrapped his hand around the girth.
"Oh," Buck whispered under his breath, eyes widening. "Guess Shannon wasn't lying."
Eddie heard him say it, evident by the light chuckle Buck heard, but he was too shell-shocked to react. Eddie was big. The shirt's warning label suddenly made perfect, literal sense. Shannon wasn't exactly joking with the gift– Eddie's cock genuinely looked like a choking hazard right now.
Bless Shannon's sense of humor. Bless the fact that she'd given Eddie a ridiculous gag gift all those years ago. Because without it, Buck wouldn't be on his knees right now, face-to-face with Eddie's cock, watching it swell to full hardness.
Buck's mouth went dry even as it watered. He'd fantasized about this all day, but the reality was a bit more intimidating than he'd imagined in his horny day-dreams.
"Buck, baby," Eddie's voice was gentle, clearly seeing the slight hesitance on Buck’s face. He brought his hand down to Buck’s face, caressing his jaw. "I know it's a lot. Most people can't fit all of it– I'm not expecting anything. You don't have to do anything–"
But Eddie's words had the opposite effect than intended. Something in Buck snapped into place. Most people can't. The challenge in that statement, the implication of Eddie's past hookups who'd failed, who couldn't handle him– it lit a fire in Buck's chest. He wasn't most people. He'd spent six months learning Eddie, memorizing him, wanting him. Even if he couldn't fit all of it, he was going to try. He was going to get as close as humanly possible to Eddie.
Buck looked up at Eddie with fierce determination blazing in his eyes. "Watch me," he said. He was trying to steady his voice, exude as much confidence as he could when faced with Eddie’s monster cock.
He leaned forward before he could second-guess himself, pressing a tentative kiss to the side of Eddie's shaft. Eddie's breath hitched, and the sound sent courage flooding through Buck.
Buck started slow. Soft, exploratory kisses along the length of Eddie's cock, feeling it twitch and harden further under his lips. He traced the prominent vein with the tip of his tongue, tasting the sweet musk. His hands came up to grip Eddie's thighs for balance as he worked his way up, placing gentle kisses along heated skin.
"Fuck, Buck," Eddie groaned, his fingers threading loosely through Buck's hair. "You feel so good."
The praise made Buck bolder. He swirled his tongue around the head, lapping at the precome beading at the tip, and Eddie's groan echoed through the kitchen. Buck took his time, kitten licks and soft sucks, mapping every inch with his mouth. He needed to learn exactly what made Eddie's breath catch, what made his thighs tremble under Buck's hands.
Eddie was fully hard now, and Buck felt his own arousal building with each broken sound falling from Eddie's lips.
He wrapped his lips around the head and sucked, hollowing his cheeks, and Eddie's reaction was the most beautiful sound Buck had ever heard. He needed to hear more. Buck worked him slowly, taking him deeper inch by inch, adjusting to the stretch of his jaw, the weight on his tongue.
It was overwhelming. Eddie was so thick that Buck's lips stretched obscenely around him, so long that no matter how far or hard Buck pushed himself down, there was always a portion of Eddie's cock he just couldn't fit. His jaw reached its limit, the head of Eddie's cock bumping the back of his throat, and still there would be inches of hard shaft visible, too much for him to take. His eyes watered immediately, gag reflex triggering, and he pulled back, gasping.
"You okay?" Eddie asked as his hand stroked through Buck's hair gently.
"Yeah," Buck rasped, then tried again. Before Eddie could protest, he took his cock back in. As he pushed himself down as far as he could manage, he choked– muscles of throat convulsing, a wet gagging sound escaping around Eddie's cock. Unshed tears threatened to spill from his eyes, but he didn't stop. He breathed through his nose and pushed through it, determined to take more, but his body simply couldn't accommodate all of Eddie. There was always that frustrating length remaining of Eddie's base that stayed just out of reach.
Eddie shuffled forward, sweatpants still around his ankles, positioning himself so his hips bracketed Buck's head between his body and the cabinet behind. The space was so contained now, intimate, and Buck was suddenly, overwhelmingly surrounded by Eddie. The smell of him, the sight of him.
Buck worked him with increasing confidence, finding a rhythm that made Eddie's breathing ragged. His jaw ached, his throat burned, but the sensation was intoxicating. His own cock throbbed in his jeans, untouched and leaking, and his mind started to blur at the edges.
Eddie was having the time of his life. He wasn't lying earlier when he’d said most people couldn’t take it all, but Buck was already faring much better than anyone else. He had a full view of Buck’s swollen lips wrapped tight around his cock, with drool flowing out and frothing around the few inches Buck just couldn’t fit. Every time Buck moved his mouth along the length, his hands would wrap around Eddie’s dick on the upstroke, and Eddie could feel buck’s tongue frantically working at his head and foreskin. It had Eddie barreling towards the edge. Buck was gonna make him finish embarrassingly quickly, and Eddie didn’t want their first time to be marked by him being a quick-shot.
So Eddie pulled out.
Buck gasped for air, confused, but Eddie was already moving. He gripped his cock at the base to stave off his orgasm, and brought it down hard against Buck's lips– smack. He tapped it on Buck’s lips a few more times, the heat of his cock searing. Buck's eyes went wide as Eddie basically used his lips as a pillow for his cock.
"Look at you," Eddie said, his voice low and rough with something primal. He dragged the head of his cock across Buck's swollen lips, leaving a trail of precome. "Perfect mouth. I've wondered about these thick lips for so long, Buck. Always wondered how they'd feel wrapped around my cock."
Buck whimpered, his entire body vibrating with need. Eddie was teasing him, pushing every right button at the same time. It was torture and ecstasy all at once.
"You want it?" Eddie asked, lightly rubbing the tip against Buck's lips. "Want me back in your mouth?"
"Please," Buck begged, his voice wrecked. "Please, Eddie."
"Open wide," Eddie commanded, and Buck's jaw dropped obediently. Eddie smacked his hard cock against Buck's tongue– once, twice– and groaned in sync with Buck feeling the weight of his soft flesh. Buck moaned, his tongue instinctively pressing upward to meet Eddie's cock, eager and desperate for more. He pushed himself down onto Eddie's cock with renewed desperation, and Eddie's groan of approval made his own arousal spike impossibly higher.
"That's it," Eddie panted, his hands coming up to frame Buck's face. "You're taking it so well Buck, got such a perfect mouth on you"
Buck felt whiplash from how the praise egged him forward. For a moment– in a flash of delirium– he imagined shrinking down, becoming small enough to crawl inside Eddie's underwear. To become a little dust mite and burrow into the fabric to stay there forever, surrounded by him. As he gargled on Eddie’s dick, nothing sounded better than that. What a nice, comfortable life that would be. Getting twenty-four seven access to Eddie and his dick.
"Fuck, you're so hot," Eddie groaned, struggling to keep his hips from pumping into the tight heat of Buck’s throat. Meanwhile, Buck’s rhythm was ratcheting up a notch, becoming more aggressive. "You love this, don't you? Love choking on my dick."
Buck answered with a desperate whimper, his throat convulsing around Eddie as he gagged again. More drool spilled down his chin, and his vision blurred with tears, but he didn't need to see. Vision was pretty low on his list of priorities, especially when he could feel everything– the slide of Eddie's cock over his tongue, the way it stretched his throat, the way Eddie's grip tightened in his hair. The solid cabinet behind him, the wet sounds filling the kitchen with eery punch of Eddie’s cock into Buck’s throat.
Buck tried to say ‘more’ around Eddie's cock, but he was so stuffed it came out as a garbled "Mrphmm,"
Eddie's grip shifted, one hand sliding to the back of Buck's head, fingers threading through his hair. "You want more?" His voice was rough, dangerous. "You want me to fuck your throat?"
“Pheash” Buck's answering moan was all the permission Eddie needed.
Eddie pulled back and thrust forward– hard. Buck's throat clicked audibly as Eddie's cock drove deep, and his head thudded back against the cabinet with a solid thunk. The impact sent a jolt through Buck's skull, but before he could process it, Eddie was pulling back and doing it again.
Thrust. Click. Thud.
The pace built quickly, Eddie's hips snapping forward with increasing force. Each thrust drove Buck's head back against the wooden cabinet, and it rattled with the impacts. Buck's throat made wet, obscene clicking sounds every time Eddie pushed in. His gag reflex was working overtime, but he didn't pull away. He didn't want to pull away. He’d ignore every visceral survival instinct in his body, even if it meant being impaled on this cock until he passed out.
Because it was ecstasy. The dull ache of his skull hitting the cabinet mixed with the stretch in his throat, the burn in his jaw, the way Eddie was moving his hips above him– it all blended into something transcendent. Buck's hands scrabbled at Eddie's hips, not to push him away but to pull him closer, to anchor himself as Eddie fucked into his mouth with abandon.
"Holy fuck, Buck," Eddie groaned out, far too loudly. A teeny-tiny portion of his brain felt bad for thir neighbors, having to hear all this, but nothing mattered more than having Eddie battering his throat right now . "Your mouth– this is insane–"
Thud-click-thud-click-thud-click. The pace was relentless now, Eddie's cock driving deep with every thrust. Drool was pouring down Buck's chin, tears now streaming freely down his face, and he could feel his throat spasming around Eddie's length. The wet, gagging sounds filled the kitchen, mixing with Eddie's ragged breathing and Buck's muffled whimpers.
Buck was drowning in sensation. Eddie's hands held him in place, controlling him completely. His own neglected cock throbbed painfully in his jeans, but he couldn't think about that– couldn't think about anything except Eddie above him. Buck's vision swam as he looked up, his face so close to being pressed flush against Eddie's hips, his nose almost buried in dark curls, Eddie's balls were heavy against his chin, smacking into him with each thrust. From this angle, Eddie was everything– his big shoulders blotting out the kitchen light, his chest heaving with exertion, his face flushed deep red with pleasure. Eddie's eyes were half-lidded, dark and intense as he stared down at Buck, watching him choke and gag on his cock with an expression of pure possession. It was overwhelming, being pinned beneath Eddie's gaze like this.
It was everything. It was perfect.
"Dios, you take it so good," Eddie grunted out through heavy pants, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "So fucking good for me. You like this? Having your face fucked against the cabinet?"
“Yefgh,” Buck's only way to answer was a through desperate, garbled moan. His vision had gone hazy, tears and lack of oxygen making everything blur. But he could still feel everything.
Thud-thud-thud. Eddie's rhythm was breaking down now, becoming frantic. Buck's throat clicked frantically with each thrust, his head bouncing off the cabinet in rapid succession. The dull pain was an life-jacket keeping Buck afloat, mixing with the pleasure until Buck couldn't tell them apart anymore.
"Fuck, I'm so close," Eddie warned alongside another frantic grind into . "Where do you want me, Buck?"
“Immmmsidde,” Buck moaned desperately around Eddie's cock, doubling down. He wanted– needed to taste Eddie.
"Y'wanna swallow it?" Eddie grunted out in understanding. Buck gave a small nod while continuing his efforts. Eddie's hips were stuttering with every thrust now; Buck didn't just feel it, he could hear it with the change in thud-thud-thud against the cabinet and rate of throat clicking.
"Fuckkk– oh my God– Buck, I’m– coming!" Eddie came with a shout, hips jerking forward one last time, and Buck felt the hot pulse of his release hitting the back of his throat. He swallowed reflexively, working Eddie through his high, even though he wanted to savor the taste. Eddie's cock pulsed relentlessly, and Buck swallowed what he could, his throat working desperately around the portion of Eddie he'd managed to take, while he stroked the base outside his lips. The tears streamed faster with every gag, but he didn't pull away, determined to finish the job right, take everything Eddie was giving him even.
Eddie's grip on his hair tightened as he weakly thrust through his orgasm, and Buck took it, swallowing what he could until Eddie's movements finally slowed. His grip on Buck's hair loosened, and he pulled his softening cock out of the wet cavern of Buck’s mouth with a shaky exhale.
Buck sat back on his heels, gasping for air. His face was a complete mess– tears and drool and come coating his chin, his lips swollen and red, his throat raw. His jaw ached, his knees hurt from the hard tile, and he was still painfully hard in his jeans. Eddie’s soft cock, glistening with saliva, was sprawled over the messy canvas of Buck’s face.
Buck had never felt more satisfied after a blowjob in his life. He wasn't even the one getting blown, and he could confidently say it was the best blowjob he's ever participated in. Maybe they’d just discovered a throat-prostate or something. Gold star for you, Buckley! You won the a Anatomy Nobel Prize for getting face-fucked by your best friend!
All the while, Eddie was still looking down at him, chest heaving. The expression on his face was sated and stunned as he watched Buck catch his breath. Buck kept his eyes locked on him, wanting to memorize everything about it.
"Buck," Eddie broke the silence, his voice wrecked. He reached down, helping Buck to his feet, and pulled him into a tender kiss. He spoke directly into Buck's mouth as they softly made out; "You're incredible."
Buck melted into the kiss, his hands coming up to grip Eddie's shoulders. It was really that easy, just letting himself go into Eddie. After a long few minutes, they finally pulled apart, and Buck rested his forehead against Eddie's, both of them breathing hard.
"So," Buck broke the silence this time, his voice lightly slurred and absolutely destroyed. "About that shirt…"
Eddie let out a full-belly laugh, the sound filled the whole kitchen with warmth. "Yeah. Guess the warning label was accurate."
"Very accurate," Buck agreed, and couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face. "Might need to test it again sometime. You know. For science. Gotta stay diligent about choking hazards"
"Anytime you want." Eddie's eyes darkened with promise. He gave Buck a chaste kiss before giving his tented pants a small slap. Buck let out a whine, far too sensitive from being kept on the edge for so long.
“Mmm, but right now," Eddie licks his lips, glancing down at Buck's very obvious erection. Buck stares back, wide eyed and starstruck, as Eddie lets out a breathless chuckle with the stupidest smile painted on his face. "I think there’s a fire in the back of my mouth.”
“Think you can help me out, firehose?”