weewookinkmeme (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
weewookinkmeme) wrote2025-05-20 10:34 am
weewookinkmeme) wrote2025-05-20 10:34 am
Kink Meme
So how does this work?
1. Anonymously post a short prompt. It could be shippy, porny, weird, fluffy, angsty, gen, or whatever else your heart desires.
Remember that a short, open-ended prompt is easier to fill than something highly specific. E.g. "What if Buck and Eddie had exhibitionist sex at the gym?" is more likely to get a fill than "What if Buck and Eddie had sex at the gym, Buck came first, then someone walked in and they never spoke of it again. After a slow burn, they get together while Maddie is giving birth to her and Chimney's third child."
2. If you see a prompt that strikes your fancy, anonymously fill it. Your fill could be 200 words written straight into the comment box, or it could be a multi-part epic. Multiple fills for one prompt are not only acceptable, but awesome.
3. If you post a prompt, try to fill one if you can!
4. Comment on things you're excited about and start discussions. The conversations can be the best part of being on a kink meme! And part of the benefit of being on Dreamwidth is that we are all completely anonymous, so you can deep discuss anything you please without shame.
5. Don't troll, wank, or start discourse. If you don't like a prompt/fill, scroll on past and post something you do like. Treat people well. Harassment will be deleted with prejudice. If you see someone treating people poorly, you can report it here.
Edit: Feel free to post prompts for RPF ships. Let's make sure to only prompt about actively famous people, not relatives or friends of famous people (unless they're famous in their own right), and avoid RPF prompts about real life minors.
Second Edit: Just a reminder to be careful to write out "omegaverse" or "alpha/beta/omega" instead of using the letter abbreviations, as it's a very nasty slur in some parts of the world.
It's that simple! Here is a list of kinks for inspiration, get prompting and have fun!
If anyone is totally new to HTML, I've written up a quick tutorial here; click to expand.
Basic HTML is pretty easy! This is how you make words bold, italicized, underlined, bigger, smaller, etc. You use what are called "tags", and surround the words you want to be affected.
You can see new fic in the fills thread, or on Pinboard for clickable links (If you're using a phone, Pinboard will probably be easiest.).
AO3 Collection
I'm testing out another journal style, since a couple anons pointed out that the current one is hard to navigate on mobile, don't be alarmed! Edit: ugh, I hate what I've created. Bear with me. Okay, I'm just gonna go with the site default, I think, since it's nice and functional. Apologies to anyone who witnessed the various in-between stages of the journal, lol.
1. Anonymously post a short prompt. It could be shippy, porny, weird, fluffy, angsty, gen, or whatever else your heart desires.
Remember that a short, open-ended prompt is easier to fill than something highly specific. E.g. "What if Buck and Eddie had exhibitionist sex at the gym?" is more likely to get a fill than "What if Buck and Eddie had sex at the gym, Buck came first, then someone walked in and they never spoke of it again. After a slow burn, they get together while Maddie is giving birth to her and Chimney's third child."
2. If you see a prompt that strikes your fancy, anonymously fill it. Your fill could be 200 words written straight into the comment box, or it could be a multi-part epic. Multiple fills for one prompt are not only acceptable, but awesome.
Note: Deanoning your fic, or posting it to your namespace AO3, Tumblr, Twitter, or any other account, is completely fine, but please wait a week or so to do so, so it can belong totally to the kink meme for a bit. Kink memes are not only for fic, they are also communities; we want to celebrate your fic that you made for this community for a bit before it's released into the wider world.
Second note: Deanoning is NOT required. Your fic can live as an anonymous fill for as long as you please. :)
3. If you post a prompt, try to fill one if you can!
4. Comment on things you're excited about and start discussions. The conversations can be the best part of being on a kink meme! And part of the benefit of being on Dreamwidth is that we are all completely anonymous, so you can deep discuss anything you please without shame.
5. Don't troll, wank, or start discourse. If you don't like a prompt/fill, scroll on past and post something you do like. Treat people well. Harassment will be deleted with prejudice. If you see someone treating people poorly, you can report it here.
Edit: Feel free to post prompts for RPF ships. Let's make sure to only prompt about actively famous people, not relatives or friends of famous people (unless they're famous in their own right), and avoid RPF prompts about real life minors.
Second Edit: Just a reminder to be careful to write out "omegaverse" or "alpha/beta/omega" instead of using the letter abbreviations, as it's a very nasty slur in some parts of the world.
It's that simple! Here is a list of kinks for inspiration, get prompting and have fun!
If anyone is totally new to HTML, I've written up a quick tutorial here; click to expand.
Basic HTML is pretty easy! This is how you make words bold, italicized, underlined, bigger, smaller, etc. You use what are called "tags", and surround the words you want to be affected.
That's the raw HTML. When you post a comment, it will change the text. So when you post, the three HTML tags I'm using there would look:<i>Like this</i><b>Or this</b><h1>Or this</h1>
Like this
Or thisOr this
<i></i> = italics <b></b> = bold <u></u> = underlinedThat's the very basics, and probably all you need for commentfic. Here is a more in-depth guide, and here is the HTML that is usable on Dreamwidth.
AO3 Collection
FILL: Buddie CNC, drugged, somno (2/?)
(Anonymous) 2025-05-27 04:19 pm (UTC)(link)-----
It's not easy for Eddie to put his finger on when this thing between them started. Feels like it's been there since the very first day the two of them met.
It feels like it's been inside him longer than that and Buck was just the one who pulled the pin. The whole time they've known each other, Eddie's kept his hand tight around this thing between them, refusing to loosen his grip for a second, lest it blow up his world.
While he was in Texas, and for some time before that, if he was honest, he'd felt like he was outside of his own life. Disconnected from himself, from his son, from the world. Going through the motions that he needed to go through to move forward and stay on plan...all of that was automatic. Reflex. But somehow, some nights it felt like breathing no longer was. The muscle pounded in his chest, electrical twitches ceaselessly pushing his blood to the outskirts of his body and back again. And yet it also felt like his heart had forgotten how to beat.
Sometimes, in Texas, he felt so alone that he cried silently, staring up at his water stained ceiling. On those nights, he felt useless.
If you weren't here, something whispered from his depths. Wouldn't that be easier?
On the nights when those thoughts visited, he phoned Buck. No faces, just Buck's sleep-croaked greeting, soft and sounding pleased to hear Eddie's voice no matter the hour. Buck was the one person he couldn't imagine getting over him. Did Buck need Eddie? No. Losing Eddie would break him, though. That fact wasn't something Eddie could even question.
Of course he never spoke *those thoughts* to Buck, or anyone else for that matter. Just like he never said the words 'I'm so lonely right now, please just talk to me. I need to hear your voice'.
That didn't matter. Somehow Buck just knew that Eddie's silence needed filling. The rhythm of his rumbling voice, low and soothing, surrounded Eddie, engulfing him and smothering the darker impulses. Eddie fell asleep to it more than once. More than a few times.
Some weeks, the hard ones, it happened more nights than not. They never talked about it during the daytime.
One of those nights, not too long before he came back, Buck was chuckling his way through the story of a call to a sorority house, unattended candle at a costume party, some sort of lingerie theme and according to Buck, the attendees flirted so shamelessly with Ravi, he lost the ability to speak.
"What about you?"
"What about me?" There was a flirtatious curl to Buck's tone.
He wasn't actually flirting with Eddie, Eddie knew that. Eddie knew that Buck was thinking about flirting with those college students and his voice was slipping back into that rhythm. That was the only reason he sounded like that.
Eddie tugged his sheet down to his waist, allowing the breeze from the overhead fan to kiss away the sweat on his neck and under his arms. He flung a hand above his head and said, "No one was flirting shamelessly with you? How is that possible."
"Oh I got flirted at, but I can handle people getting a little handsy."
"Did they flirt or did they get handsy?"
Buck snickers. "I must've got my ass grabbed a dozen times on the way out."
"Buck, that's not okay!"
"Oh it's fine. I like getting touched. I mean, it has been a minute."
"Since what? Since you've been touched?"
The pause before Buck's reply goes on a little too long. "Who'm I gonna get to touch me, Eddie?"
"I'm sure plenty of people would be happy to touch you."
"Yeah?"
"You're still not dating?"
"Are you?"
Eddie groans and rolls to his side, wedging a pillow between his knees. "Because that worked out so well for me last time. Besides, I don't need to get touched. Not like you do."
This pause goes on even longer. Finally, Buck says softly, "What do you mean?"
What do you mean? "Hmm?"
"When you said, 'I don't need to get touched'."
"No, that's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean?" He just sounds curious, that's all. It's not a threat.
So why does it feel like a threat? "I've never had the highest sex drive, that's all."
"Who's talking about sex? I thought we were talking about getting touched."
"Both, either one." Frustration flares in his chest for no goddamn reason. "Getting touched isn't something I think about needing very often."
"No?"
"Do you?"
"Do I miss getting touched?"
"You could be dating, you know."
"I know."
"Or."
Again, Buck pauses longer than he should. "Or?"
"Look, I know this was before my time but didn't you used to enjoy casual...touch. With women. And now men are on the table for you, right?"
"Yeah."
"So if all you want is to get touched, I'm pretty sure there are apps."
"I know that, Eddie."
"I just mean if you miss it. Or you miss," he bites out the word, "Tommy."
Buck snorts. "I do *not* miss him. And I definitely don't miss the way he touched me."
Eddie feels a chill. "What do you mean?"
"No not like that. Nothing bad. The sex was fine. It worked. It was good. But he was never really touchy, outside of letting me know he wanted sex."
"Are you serious?"
"It's fine, it was fine, he's just not a touchy feely guy. Not a big cuddler."
"And that was fine for you."
"I got used to it. I got off, he got off. Not every relationship is lovey-dovey."
Buck deserves lovey dovey. Eddie gets angry on his behalf but there's nothing he can really do with that anger so he just clenches his fists and rubs his knuckles against the sheets until they start to burn.
"But you understand," Buck continues. "I mean you just said you don't need to get touched all that often."
He did say that, didn't he?
Casual as can be, like it's nothing, Buck adds, "Maybe that's because you like to do the touching."
"What."
"No I think I might be onto something."
On to what? Eddie's heart stutter steps and he has no idea what's going to come out of Buck's mouth next.
"Just casual touching, your hand on my shoulder or whatever. Maybe that's what I miss."
Eddie would like to pretend he doesn't know what Buck is talking about but he does. He just never thought of it as touching. No more than setting your feet on the ground was you touching the earth. Touching was something you did by choice. Laying your hand on Buck, clasping his shoulder, that was closer to gravity.
And that thought, since at this point Eddie hadn't yet gotten his shit together, was terrifying for reasons he refused to look at. And so he turned it around on Buck, he made it about Buck, which was something it took him a few dozen hours of therapy to understand was something called 'projection'.
"Something tells me you could get a guy off Grindr to touch more than your shoulder."
Again, with the long pause. "Yeah I tried that, doesn't scratch the itch."
Now Eddie's the one with the long pause.
"It was last week. It wasn't even anything, I was bored."
He doesn't have to explain himself to Eddie. Why is he explaining himself? "How was it?" He's pretty sure he sounds casual, like Buck's reporting on some new new Korean barbecue truck he stumbled across and Eddie wouldn't mind hearing what's on the menu. That's all.
"Eh."
"Eh?"
"Yeah. I think mostly I just wanted the last person I slept with to not be Tommy? Like, I wanted to think about gay sex and not think about Tommy."
"I get it." He gets not wanting to think about Tommy.
"And sure, me and this guy got off a ton. Turns out," he says getting some attitude, "someone's not as bad at sucking dick as Tommy said he was."
"He said what?"
"The fucking mind games. Mr. 'I don't want to play games'. Anyway, it doesn't matter. He doesn't matter."
"What kind of mind games?" Eddie's mind revved with the possibilities, whining like some overheating engine. His palms are sweating. He drags them low across his belly, barely even noticing when his knuckles skim the veiny length of his shaft. He's so hard that it's curved sharply upward towards his stomach. When did he get so hard?
"Doesn't matter. Anyway, this guy--"
"What kind," Eddie grits out through clenched teeth, "of mind games?"
"I...he uh. I don't know, once my therapist pointed it out I couldn't not see it. He could never just be like, 'good job, Evan, that was great'. There was always something little thing I did wrong. Somewhere I could do better, he just wanted me to be better. Kept me chasing his approval."
"What the fuck?"
"It was fine, I was new at all of this anyway, and I wanted to learn. But as I was *saying*," he says in a gently admonishing tone, "This guy last week didn't have any problem saying I was great at it. And I believed him."
Eddie believes him.
Eddie needs to touch himself, right now. In this moment he *needs* touch, but he's not going to do that while he's on a call with Buck. That would be weird. It would feel so weird and wrong, he would probably go soft.
"I mean, he let me do it for a whole hour."
Eddie leaks. As he watches, the droplet swells and sags and finally drips. It sits there, clinging to the dark hair on his belly. Another drop joins it.
"That's uh," he clears his throat. "That's great, Buck."
"Sorry, TMI."
"You're fine. No. I'm just glad Tommy's out of the picture. Why would anyone want to fuck with you like that?"
"I think maybe he liked me trying to prove myself to him? Prove how much I wanted to, like, please him."
"Has he even met you? You want to please everyone."
Another pause.
"That's a compliment," Eddie adds. The ache between his legs feels like background noise, like the whine in his ears after a bone rattling explosion, just there in the background for hours. Something to be endured until it fades.
"It's something I'm working on in therapy, actually. Feeling like I have to prove myself. That guy last week helped, in a way."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Eddie waits. He gropes upward with one hand to check if his nipples are as stiff as they feel, and yes. He pinches hard, any electric zing that telegraphs its way down to his cock pushes out another fat leaking drip. "How?" He breathes.
Buck's voice is equally breathy when he says, "He said he liked my body."
"It's a good body." Eddie can only be strong for so long. He yields and squeezes himself once, hard, tightening his grip until it hurts and holding it a little bit longer, then he lets go and rubs both his palms on the sheets at his sides. "You know that."
"Doesn't mean I don't like to," his breath catches. It catches like he's touching himself. Is he touching himself? How is he touching himself? "..like to hear it. You know?"
He knows. "I know."
"He said, he said I was," his breath catches again, and is that rhythmic rustling in the background? "He said I was good."
"You are." Eddie can't help himself. He can't stop his hand from moving too. "You are good, Buck."
"He, he said I was a good boy."
Christ. His hand's flying now. Hips twitching. "You're so good. Do you hear me?"
"I do." It comes out as a desperate whine.
"It's a good body. Touch it."
Now, just a whine.
"Are you touching it?"
"Yes!"
"Touch it for me."
"Yes, Eddie. Oh God, I'm gonna."
"Go on. Do it. That's a good boy."
"Oh *fuh-huck*." Then just noises, open mouthed noises that peel Eddie right down to his nerve endings.
He can't, but he has to. He fucking has to but he can't when he's on the phone with Buck, but he has to right now, so he hangs up and yanks at himself roughly until he coats his chest with a shameful amount of gooey white come. It knocks the wind out of him.
He hasn't even caught his breath when the phone rings. He can't imagine making words. It stops ringing. It starts ringing again, this time for FaceTime and there is no universe where he can look Buck in the eye in this moment because what in the actual fuck did he just do?
*
They don't talk about it until he gets back from Texas.
Re: FILL: Buddie CNC, drugged, somno (2/?)
(Anonymous) 2025-05-27 05:01 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Buddie CNC, drugged, somno (2/?)
(Anonymous) 2025-05-27 07:04 pm (UTC)(link)and like, just, jesus fucking christ, you write so so fucking good. like, fuck. the depth of it all. amazing. hooked!
Re: FILL: Buddie CNC, drugged, somno (2/?)
(Anonymous) 2025-05-27 10:09 pm (UTC)(link)FILL: Buddie CNC, drugged, somno (3/?)
(Anonymous) 2025-05-29 09:57 pm (UTC)(link)It's a nice thought.
Actually, it's more than a nice thought. Eddie has finally gotten to a place where he can admit that it's a thought that turns him on, and that's not nothing.
Eddie Diaz just came, and he is *still* turned on. For him, that's more than 'not nothing'. It's more than he'd ever dared to hope for when it came to sex. Sure, he knew people made a big deal about fucking, a bigger deal that it was worth, in his opinion, but he genuinely thought sex was overrated until one Evan Buckley turned his heart upside down and his brain inside out and as for Eddie's body...well, the day he kissed Buck and Buck kissed him back, it was like Eddie's body became a new animal entirely.
It was like touching Buck, *being* touched by him, had unlocked a cage inside of Eddie. Ripped the door off the hinges was more like it. Melted that cage down and now Eddie has this hungry beast roaming around inside of him. It's coiled and craving and ready to pounce with thoughts about Buck, wet and hot and gushing in Eddie's mouth. Sometimes, the thing in him was an inchoate roiling mass pure unrelenting desire. Just this throbbing, impure drive to rub and thrust and pet and squeeze and mouth blindly at the nearest available stretch of Buck's skin.
He still wanted the little touches too, the casual affection, the closeness he could indulge in now without the strange prickle of *careful, careful, that's enough* that used to flare when he really relaxed with Buck, against Buck, back before they became more. Those little touches were still there, now that they were more, but that PG sort of comfort wasn't entirely new.
Not like the big touches. Not like the deep ones. Not like the solid weight of his man pressing him down, spreading and nudging and rocking, shamelessly stiff. Not like that mouth. The inside of that mouth, hot and eager for Eddie. Not like the way he could kiss for hours now, didn't want to stop kissing, moaned pathetically when Buck's plump lips abandoned him, even for a second.
Wanting like this felt new.
Eddie felt new.
It was an entirely new concept for him, that sex could be something where having it made you want it even more.
Not some mission to accomplish and dutifully check off the good boyfriend list for the night, or a pesky itch to scratch in a way that was not *quite* right but good enough to quiet the physical urges until the next time. Not the romantic equivalent of an MRE, something that got the job done and functioned, more or less, as food. In 'straight' Eddie's experience, sex was just not something he craved or thought fondly of or really even thought of at length at all until it came time to perform, or until his body felt backed up enough to necessitate half an hour of mindless tugging at himself in the shower, a few times a month at most.
It wasn't exactly a manly thing to admit, but he didn't need much sex. Never had. And he had a hell of a time believing people needed it as much as they acted like they did. Sure, fine, an orgasm felt good, no denying that. But everything leading up to that was shot through with anxiety and pressure to perform, no matter how easy-going the woman. And after?
He knew it wasn't supposed to feel like it did for him, when the physical high faded and he sank into this lonely, disappointing, hollow place, shot through with disgust at his own sticky body, at the objectively lovely woman beside him, then the wave of guilt at that disgust. He'd never fucked a woman he didn't already like as a friend, as a person, and on paper, they'd all been objectively attractive. So to feel that way about her, all the hers, it was shitty.
He chalked it up to Catholic guilt and, late, when he was a little more educated on gender dynamics, latent misogyny. It wasn't unheard of for men to want to fuck women, but still not like them as people. But Eddie did like them as people!
He just didn't want to fuck them very much.
He had quietly come to terms with the fact that he didn't want to fuck *anyone* very much. If that was a little weird, well, there were far worse ways to be weird, sexually. Eddie could function, when he needed to, and was grateful for that. But as long as he didn't have a woman in his life, he didn't need to, which was a relief.
And all that was fine with him, it had been anyway. He thought it had. He had a busy life, a son to raise, a job that didn't make dating the easiest thing in the world (even if women and the occasional man made it embarrassingly clear that it was there for the taking if Eddie wanted.) But most of the time, Eddie didn't *want*. And sitting here and wishing that sex was, for him, this normal, natural, easy thing to want and have and enjoy and pass through into some sort of cathartic, narcotic post-coital oblivion that all the poets crowed about? That didn't make it so. And that was fine with him. It was. It was hard to miss what you'd never had, at least that's what he tried to tell himself.
If there was anything he had been jealous of, with people for whom sex came easy, it was that fabled afterglow. Good sex left you relaxed, it took away tension, nature's tranquilizer, left you warm and loose, like a good workout. That's what everyone said it did, anyway. That's how it was supposed to work.
For all that sex with women never felt natural for him, he dedicated himself to being an effective partner, so he'd certainly seen women doze off beside him, slack and sated. And safe. He liked that he made women feel safe. He liked that he could make a woman he cared about feel good. He liked the idea of an orgasm being a release of tension that left a person empty of thoughts and full of affection. He knew that's how it was supposed to be.
But that just wasn't Eddie's lived experience. From the start, sex had made him feel *hunted* for no fucking reason he could identify, which made that feeling all the more maddening. He remembers it so clearly, a soft, satisfied woman tucked under his arm after the successful completion of sex, happy and close, so close Eddie wanted to crawl out of his skin to escape the sensation, like the hairs on the back of his neck lit up red from a sniper's scope. Sleeping in anything but fitful, falling awake bursts in bed with a woman was out of the question. Eddie knew this about himself early on and it never changed, no matter how hard he tried.
And the thing was, Eddie didn't even consider himself a light sleeper. Not back in the Army at least. Give him a tent with a few dozen men snoring and cleaning equipment and hollering across the wall-free space, plus all the sounds outside of movement and demolition and roaring air superiority besides, none of it mattered. Eddie Diaz could and would still sleep like the dead, given a reasonable flat surface. Hell, he could do it sitting up.
Before he left for war he had no trouble sleeping, not anywhere. He was great at it, in fact. "My little lazybones," his abuela would tease, but he didn't care. All Eddie knew was it felt *good* to fall asleep. It felt so damn good to wake a little, with nothing going on, and then drift back sleep for just a while longer. It was his favorite thing.
He was a teenager then, hard and hungry and tired on his growing body's schedule, not his. Then the came army, with its own schedule for his body, but that schedule often held long stretches of a whole lot of nothing and he easily trained himself to snatch bites of his favorite treat, a little catnap. Shanon and him always had drama, from the start, so he figured that was why he could never really sleep next to her. But then another person, a person he liked. A woman he slept with, or tried to, but no. And then no again.
So okay, that was just how Eddie was built. And that was fine. He liked to sleep alone. Or as part of a group. But together? *With*? Weighted by the expectation of entanglement or a small, soft hand threatening to reach out and beckon him closer. Invite his body inside of hers? *That* was a reliable recipe for sleeplessness.
But it was also an avoidable one. Doctor it hurts when I do that, so don't do that, so he didn't, easy peasy, done and dusted. If you arranged your life right, filled it with other things, the question of how to sleep in a bed with your partner wasn't something you had to face. Especially if you were a grown man with a fair amount of control over how you lived your life.
Sometimes, though, circumstances overwhelmed one grown man's ability to decide who shared his bed. Sometimes, a coronavirus half a world away grew novel characteristics and slunk through the air from lung to lung until the whole world paused. And his job turned him into a vector for disease. His body was transformed into something that could silently, unwittingly transmit death to his own vulnerable child, and so he left his home.
It was decided they'd bubble at Buck's, the only convenient space with no family bystanders. No collateral damage. Made sense to Eddie, and he didn't care enough to be part of figuring out sleeping arrangements as long as he somewhere to pass out. Ended up being Chim and Hen downstairs on the pull out and eventually an air mattress, Buck and Eddie sharing the bed up in the loft. That was fine with him, he said more than once. He could sleep anywhere. He didn't even think of sharing a bed with Buck as *sharing a bed*. It was no different from bunks at the firehouse as far as he was concerned, not that he honestly gave it a second thought.
He'd been tired enough that first night, exhausted with anxiety and long shift, that he hadn't even given much thought to his 'sleeping with someone' issues. Probably helped that he didn't see Buck as that sort of 'someone'. And with the occasional noises from Chim and Hen downstairs, it felt more 'group' than 'with'. Buck's bed felt so secluded and welcoming, though by the time they got back to Buck's and showered and changed and ate and the four of them had shot the shit over the last of a bottle of Wild Turkey, the floor felt welcoming. That bed, though? When Eddie had climbed the stairs and seen it, it had looked like a slice of heaven.
Buck had apologized that first night, in all of the everything of it all he'd forgotten to wash his sheets, and the spare set was already on the pullout downstairs. Eddie'd dismissed his apologies and crawled in to the unmade nest of blankets and sheets, pillow smelling like a softer version of the exquisitely familiar Buck smell that Eddie had come to know (and love, though he'd far from admitted it at that point). Familiar detergent. Not crisp and clean, but family, nest, *home*. It smelled like home. Eddie grabbed two more pilllows and hugged them, curling around them as he snuggled in.
Buck had laughed and climbed in his side, clicking off the light. A soft amber filtered up from living room below and made shapes on their ceiling. There were glow in the dark stars up there too, in what looked like realistic constellations. He'd ask tomorrow, otherwise Buck would have half an hour of astronomy monologue for him, and Eddie didn't want to fall asleep in the middle. Still, the sight delighted him. The thought of Buck on some ladder, carefully placing the stickers, cast a warm glow on his heart.
From the other side of the bed came a sarcastic, "Got enough pillows there, Eddie?"
Eddie lifted his head. Buck had the one remaining pillow on his side, a thin thing that had seen better days. Eddie shrugged and hugged the nice plump down pillow to his chest tighter. "Yup."
"So that's how it's gonna be, huh?" He sounded like he was on the edge of laughter. "That's how it's gonna be."
"That's how it is. What are you gonna do about it?"
"Not gonna do shit, just gotta be patient. I know you. You're gonna fall asleep in ten and what are you gonna do about it then? Nothing. I'm taking all my pillows."
"I thought they were *our* pillows."
"Why would you think that?"
"We're sharing a bed, aren't we?"
"You're a guest."
"You don't give your guests a pillow?"
Buck snorted quietly. "Usually give my guests a lot more than a pillow."
The warm glow in Eddie heart flared into something with real heat, but that was an easy enough thing to ignore.
Buck cleared his throat. "If you need all those pillows, we can get more tomorrow."
Eddie handed over the thick one he'd had clutched to his chest. "Here. But yeah. Let's get more pillows."
The mattress shifted and dipped as Buck nestled the good pillow into place and rolled to his side to face Eddie. "Who knows how long we'll be doing this."
Eddie rolled to face Buck as well. "Not long, I hope. Of course."
"Of course. But..."
"But what?"
"It's corny."
"Who cares," Eddie said, drawing up a knee and accidentally bumping up against Buck's leg, beneath the covers.
"I just. If I gotta do this, I'm glad it's with you."
Eddie smiled. "Same."
Buck smiled softly and rolled to his back, heaving a sigh before shutting his eyes and murmuring, "I'm glad you don't snore."
"I'm glad I'm a heavy sleeper."
Buck gave Eddie's chest an unaimed smack, then within maybe a dozen breaths he went slack, chest rising and falling with the unhurried pace of someone dead asleep. It didn't take long for Eddie to sink into slumber, then came the sun. The smell of coffee drifted up to them, Buck's unmoving bulk just inches from Eddie. Down at the bottom of the bed, beneath the covers, their toes were touching. Eddie nudged Buck's foot with his own. Buck's breath caught, then he groaned, shifting and stretching. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, then he smiled fuzzily at Eddie. "Hey, you."
That was the morning, all those years ago, that he learned that sleeping with Buck was easy.
And now, here, close to midnight a few weeks after the Xanax incident, his neck still tingling where Buck had probably sucked a hickey into it, his happy trail slicked down with jizz, his body still so alive with so, so much pleasure, Eddie has an entire night effortless sleep to look forward to alongside his...boyfriend? Lover? That word wrinkles his nose. Husband has a nice ring to it, but Eddie knows it is way to soon to put those sorts of thoughts into words.
His Buck. His man. His.
He sighs happily, feels an urge, and gives into without a second thought because he can. He reaches between Buck's legs, caressing his thighs with appreciation before nudging them further apart and fondling his balls, then back, where he's still slick. He pets at the softened entrance with a fingertip, then eases inside, appreciating the welcoming heat, the way it clings to his finger. He savors the little shiver that goes through Buck and bends down to kiss his hip.
"Hey you," he whispers to Buck.
FILL: Buddie CNC, drugged, somno (4/?)
(Anonymous) 2025-05-29 10:35 pm (UTC)(link)But it's not like Eddie isn't a pro at ignoring shame.
Is there a part of Eddie that always used to feel anxious about coming inside of a woman, even in a condom, even if she was on the pill, because 'it only takes one time' is not in fact just some abstinence only scare tactic? Yes. Is that part of him finally able to unclench when he comes raw inside of Buck, because he can't actually get Buck pregnant? Also yes.
Has Eddie maybe had a weird dream or two where he gets Buck pregnant anyway and he wakes up aching hard, and aching in his chest for something he can't name but still yearns for desperately, even as it dissolves in the creeping morning light?
No fucking comment, thanks.
Eddie always finds it sweet that Buck's self-conscious of how sweaty he gets during sex, fat salty drops of it rolling off his nose and his forehead and splattering Eddie, who's not exactly bone dry, but Buck gets *wet*. Sometimes, even at work, the smell turns Eddie on so much he can't think straight, and it's the most delicious little torture that he keeps to himself until he has a chance to take out his frustration on the object of all this fresh desire. He feels like such a fucking degenerate when he sniffs and licks Buck's armpits, reveling in the hot wash of humiliation when Buck says, "You like that, don't you?"
Eddie is fully distracted asking himself whether licking Buck's pits is excusable when they're not in the middle of a fuck, so he's not fully listening to whatever Buck's murmuring, but he lifts his head when he hears a slightly louder,
"Eddie? You listening?"
He tears his attention away from the little tuft of hair peeking out and tempting him from that slick, salty crook, and instead props his chin on Buck's sturdy chest. "Hmm? What's up?"
"I said, I feel like I need to, like I *should* tell you something."
"Let's hear it."
"But I don't wanna tell you." Buck pouts.
Eddie sucks on that lower lip, pulls off with a little pop, and says playfully, "Okay, then don't"
"I'm trying to be serious here."
"So go, then. If it's bothering you. Is it bothering you?"
"It's really bothering me. Even though you said...more or less..." he looks away.
Eddie laughs at all the dramatics. "Congratulations, I am intrigued. Speak."
"Yeah? Yeah. Yeah, okay. So, this was last night. And this isn't--listen, it was not on purpose, okay? I did not plan anything."
"Sounds on brand." Eddie smiles fondly.
"I just got up to pee, that's all, and get a glass of water. But I came back and you were right where I left you. On your side, facing the door. Dead asleep."
The hairs on the back of Eddie's neck prickle up.
"I asked you if you wanted any water, nothing. I pushed your shoulder and you rolled onto your back."
"Okay."
"I just want to be clear I did not touch you. Except your shoulder. But all of a sudden, and I do not know why, but I got *so* turned on."
"Okay. So you got turned on." He gives a sleazy smile. "I am pretty hot."
Buck ignores him. "And see, I could have, I *should* have woken you up. But I thought, he needs his sleep. So."
"So."
"So I should have gone and done it in the bathroom or something. It's not like I haven't done that a million times over the years when we slept over."
"Yeah?" That's...an interesting thought worth pursuing but Eddie sticks to the main line of questioning. He firms up his tone, on purpose. "You should have, but you didn't. All right. So what *did* you do, Buck? Tell me."
He whispers, like he's ashamed of himself, "I pulled back the blanket and I looked at you. I jerked myself off while I watched you sleep. And. Fuck." He squeezes himself.
"And what? And what, Buck?"
Buck screws his eyes shut. "Andthatwasntthefirsttime."
"No?" He pulls Buck's hand off his dick. "Hey. Eyes up here. Look at me. Tell me when."
Buck keeps his eyes shut, shakes his head. "I don't wanna."
"Don't lie to me. You're the one who brought it up." Firm but soft. He knows just how to push Buck when he's like this and it's exhilarating to watch him yield. To feel it when he succumbs to Eddie's loving pressure. "I think that means you do want me to know. Tell me if I'm wrong."
"You're not wrong, it's just humiliating."
"Hey. *Hey*." He kisses Buck on the mouth. "I need you to look at me, now."
Buck gives Eddie what he needs, as always, lids fluttering up to reveal glassy blue.
"I *like* it. Okay? You don't have to hide it any more. So stop acting like I'm going to be mad at you for being into me."
"Okay." He blows out a breath. "Okay. So. This was a while ago, like all the way back during COVID."
"When we were bubbling?" When they shared a bed? He tries for admonishment but the thought is exciting and that leaks into his voice. "Right next to me, Buck? Are you for real?"
Buck covers his face with both hands. "I know. I'm awful. I felt so awful about it every single time I did it."
"Every single...you did this more than once? How many times?"
"Enough! I did it enough that I felt like a really bad friend. And I mean *really* confused, because we were both straight."
"Were we, though?"
"We thought we were. You know what I mean. And..."
"And?"
"Okay. So when I say I didn't touch you..."
"Buck!" He's not mad, more scandalized in a fun way, despite the pained look on Buck's face. "You didn't," he scolds.
"No! No no no, not like that. Not with my hand."
"With *what*, then?" Eddie fully aware of how inappropriate his delighted curiosity is, but he does not care.
"No. God! I just...your foot, okay?"
Huh. Okay. Left turn, but okay. He's willing to roll with this. He goes all seductive with his voice. "What exactly did you do to my foot, Evan Buckley?"
"I did not, oh my god, I didn't *do anything* to your foot."
"It's okay if you have a foot thing. You just didn't tell me." He pulls the covers back enough to reveal his feet and wiggles his toes. With a grin, he says, "This doing it for you?"
"Would you shut the fuck up. God. You're the worst. No, I just, sometimes when you were sleeping and you stretched out, your foot touched mine and I didn't pull away. While I, you know. It wasn't about your foot. It was...it made me feel connected to you. I know it's stupid."
"Just so I'm clear, four years ago--"
"Five."
"Fuck, you're right. Wow. Okay, so five years ago you jerked off to playing footsie with me while I was asleep. And *this* the big dark secret you're so worried about?"
"I looked too. I pulled the covers down, Eddie, and I fucking...ogled you while I did it. Just to your waist, I swear, but you're just so gorgeous, it felt so good to look at you and know you were there and I knew it was wrong while I was doing it, I tried to stop myself, but it was a really stressful time you know? And I guess I told myself wasn't hurting anybody." He sounds like he's on the verge of tears.
"Hey, Buck. No. You weren't."
"I t-told myself you would never know. I told myself as long as you don't touch him and he never knows, then it doesn't count, but that was wrong. I'm sorry."
"Just stop. Look. I get, okay. I do. You are talking to the *king* of 'that doesn't count as gay because'," he waves a hand. "Because of whatever bullshit I could come up with to keep doing deeply, deeply gay shit, mostly about you. So call me nuts, but you doing that? I see it as kind of romantic."
"That's kinda fucked up."
"Yeah, well, you knew I was fucked up when you signed on. But here's what I wanna know. And I want the truth."
"Of course."
"You didn't touch me. But. While you were going at it, all guilty," he rolls Buck to his back and leans over him, kissing his neck, his collarbone, his shoulder. "All worked up for me, watching me sleep like some perv, did you think about doing it? Did you think about touching me?"
"Eddie. I wouldn't do that. There's a line."
"I know. And it's a good line. It's good that you didn't. You were good." He kisses the corner of Buck's mouth. "So good for me. But..."
"I didn't think about touching you, okay. When I...that's not...I thought about..." Buck turns his face away.
Eddie kisses the curve of his ear, and the soft warm patch of skin right behind it, then tickles his lips with the velvety edge of Buck's fade. He gives himself one tiny lick of salty skin and whispers, "Whatever it is, it is okay. It's okay with *me*."
Buck exhales heavily and scoots away to half sit up against the pillows. He makes a definitive gesture. "To be clear. I *know* you that you would never do...what I thought about you doing."
"Never say never." Eddie grinned. "I never thought I'd love sucking cock, but look at us now."
"I'm being serious."
"I know. So what was it? Was I dressed up like a girl or something? Or group stuff?"
"No. Worse."
"Snuff?"
"Jesus, Eddie! No. I got enough movies in here," he jabs at his forehead with a couple fingers, "of you dying to last me a lifetime, and they don't exactly get my dick hard. Alright?"
"Alright. I was just trying to lighten the mood."
"You're doing a shitty job!"
"Okay. I'm sorry. Hey." He squeezes Buck's shoulder and kisses it. Leaves his lips there and looks up through his lashes at Buck. "Hey. I'm sorry. I'm listening. I just can't imagine it's as bad as you're making it out to be. Ooo. Was it piss? I'm fine with pissing on you."
"Would you stop guessing? And no, ew, you weren't pissing on me."
"Were you pissing on me?" he says with an incorigable grin, except oops, Eddie realizes only in very moment he says it that the prospect of Buck pissing on him is somehow less 'ha-ha' and more 'hot? maybe?' but that wasn't an uncommon occurance as his relationship with Buck unfolded. Something corny or gross or painfully mundane that never struck him as arousing suddenly getting him rock hard. Kinky shit that he'd heard about and thought, 'who needs all those bells and whistles? Normal sex is fine.' Suddenly, with this man, with this *man*, the smallest, most unexpected thing would turn Eddie on. (two grey hairs at Buck's temple that Eddie doesn't think he's noticed yet, the way he has a favorite spoon, dark underarm sweat marks on his tight t-shirt, the way he couldn't settle in his seat when he was excited, even before the reason he had not to settle was the way Eddie'd bent him over the bathroom sink that morning and fucked him quietly, impatiently, Buck's teeth digging into the heel of Eddie's hand trying to stay quiet. Well. Maybe that last one was expected.)
The point was, to call sex with Buck revelatory was the understatement of the decade. Beyond discovering Buck's body and the new (but perhaps not unfamiliar) rhythms of making a man fall apart with your mouth or your hands or your cock, it was like he was discovering his own body too. They may have pretty much the same equipment, but Buck's body was different from his in a lot of ways. Easier to arouse, easier to set off (too easy, if you asked Buck, but if you asked Eddie, Buck coming before he got all the way in the first few times he fucked Eddie? That was so hot that he knew he'd be rubbing himself to the memory for the rest of his life.)
And that wasn't even the kinky stuff. Buck was out here teaching Eddie that he didn't just *like* having his cheeks spread and his ass eaten like a pussy, with gusto, wet and noisy, Buck growling a little like it's making him feral, he *loves* it. The shame he feels when he forces himself to let Buck stick his tongue *there* is so hideously searing, so all encompassing, it circles all the way back around into hot as fuck. He didn't know shame could do that. Buck showed him that. Buck showed Eddie all his cards up front, it felt like that at least. So responsive and eager. Wanting Eddie's attention, his focus, his desires so much. He wants *so much* for Eddie to want him that Eddie forgets to be ashamed of how much he wants Buck.
He makes Eddie's desires feel okay, even if the shame still sits on his shoulder. He's pretty much come to terms with that. He can carry the shame. It's worth it if he gets to have Buck.
So he presses onward with a teasing smile. "Wait. Don't tell me. Was it clowns? No? Or that thing where you're really tiny and I'm a giant? Or the other way around? What's that one called?"
Buck stares at him, dumbfounded. "What the hell kind of porn have you been watching?"
"Nothing in a while. I mean, in Texas there was that ban, and I was too chicken shit to get around it. And then, you know, with..." he doesn't have to say the word Bobby. Because they both know. "Really not in the mood. And then I was back here, and busy, and you were," he kisses Buck's chin, then his lower lip and sucks on it, teasing with his tongue until Buck lets him in and kisses his him back, lets himself be kissed breathless by Eddie, and oh.
Oh that is the good stuff. Hotter than the nastiest porn Eddie ever saw (though to be fair, nearly all of the porn Eddie watched until very recently was fairly standard straight porn, which may have explained why it didn't do much for him, even though most of his life he just thought he was a little better than everyone because he didn't find porn compelling. Buck, though. Buck was compelling, even when he was upset. Even more when he was upset, if Eddie was brutally honest with himself, as long as Eddie could be the one to sooth that upset and make everything better). He presses his face to Buck's neck and confesses, "You were *everywhere*. Your arms and this mouth, and those thighs." He palms one and rubs it, feeling Buck's legs spread for him. So good for him. "You were my porn. You are my porn. Everything you do or say or think," he nips Buck's jaw. "You breathing is my porn. You know that, right? Tell me you know that."
The satisfied feeling he gets when Buck blushes hard is, well, satisfying.
"Tell me you know that, Buck."
It's even more satisfying when Buck responds with, "I know that."
"Say it again."
Buck licks his lips and squirms, because Eddie's not the only one who really likes it when Eddie gives a direct command and Buck just...obeys. "I know I'm your porn."
"That's right." Eddie gives Buck's belly a drag of his palm, then his waist gets a squeeze. "So. Go on."
"I went to the bathroom the first night, but it was all the way downstairs, and I woke Chimney up. And then when I was sure you were asleep, I figured...I could get away with it. I tried to think about women. Or just...nothing. But you were right there, and breathing, and I was touching your foot with mine, and I just felt so connected to you. I guess I just wanted...something with you even though I couldn't admit it, like I couldn't even let myself think about something real with you, that was too impossible. So I guess this is what my stupid brain gave me, and the first time it happened the thought came out of nowhere," he finally looks Eddie in the eye. "And I came so fucking hard, I swear I thought I broke something.
"Annnd," Eddie drawls, settling down beside Buck, head on his chest, no eye contact in case that makes it easier. "Look, it's okay if you don't tell me. But I know a little something about holding stuff in because you're ashamed. It's just thoughts. Sometimes things feel better if you say the thoughts? I've heard? Hmm?" He cups Buck's chin and tilts it up until he's looking at Eddie. "Now talk."
Re: FILL: Buddie CNC, drugged, somno (4/?)
(Anonymous) 2025-05-30 12:38 am (UTC)(link)But god, i love how you write their dynamic. They are so fun and joyful and they know each other so well! Buck being so worried and ashamed and Eddie poking fun at him because Buck should never ever feel ashamed for his desires, and like!! Eddie being a little shit, Eddie being Dom, Eddie figuring out his own desires, all these aspects of him you portrait! Amazing. I love it!
And I second Buck pissing on Eddie. Just saying.
Re: FILL: Buddie CNC, drugged, somno (4/?)
(Anonymous) 2025-05-30 12:39 am (UTC)(link)FILL: Buddie CNC, drugged, somno (5/?)
(Anonymous) 2025-05-30 05:30 am (UTC)(link)Eddie's voice has gone hoarse. "Punished how."
"Held me down. It wasn't you. It was like it was someone who looked like you. I didn't like the way it made me feel but it got me off so fast. I made myself stop after a few times, it wasn't good for my head. I could barely even look at you the next day after I did it, so I stopped. I swear. I'm sorry."
"Hey, *hey* relax. There is nothing to forgive. You didn't do anything. So you jerked off to some weird shit. You think I haven't jerked off to some weird shit? You think as fucked up and repressed as I was about all of this, about you...I didn't? But I know you, okay? I *know* you. So whatever you tell me, I'm not running away. You're not going to scare me away."
"No, I know."
"Do you?" He hesitates to ask but might as well. "Do you want me to hurt you like that?" He doesn't think he could ever *really* hit Buck. The thought turns his stomach but if Buck needs something like that...and the idea of trying to hold Buck down while he struggled...was not entirely unappealing. "Or like, pretend to?"
"No! Not like that. It wasn't about wanting that. I mean, if it was about anything, I think it was maybe about punishing myself for wanting you. Before I even knew that I did. I know it doesn't make any sense."
No, unfortunately it really does. Punishing himself for wanting Buck was definitely something Eddie could wrap his head around. And sure, in his case it was usually more like 'don't jerk off for three weeks because confusing thoughts about Buck keep intruding, and then get so backed up you have a wet dream, the content of which is so unsettling and out of character you don't think you could ever share it, even after Buck's guilty little revelation.' "Was it a little creepy, sure. Fine. Okay. Technically."
"Technically? Would you say the same if I'd gone downstairs and done it over Chimney? Or Hen?"
Eddie recoils and Buck gives him a pointed look. Eddie shakes his head and says, "That's different. You guys weren't..."
"Neither were we. Not then."
"We were, though." Eddie's working on a whole lot of stuff, because he wants to be a better dad and a better partner and a better person. And because this thing with Buck is new and fragile and it's not something he wants to fuck up. He can't afford to fuck it up. And look, his storage unit of bullshit is *deep*, not nearly enough of it unpacked, but one thing he can do is look back and try and be honest with himself, even about times when he wasn't. He remembers being that Eddie, but it still feels like he's watching another person. It helps him to be honest, standing apart from himself like that, which is funny because standing apart from himself was how he kept up his lies for so long. "I think maybe we were."
"Maybe. That still doesn't give me the right..."
"I'm giving you permission. Okay? I am hereby granting you retroactive permission for every single time you ever got off thinking about me."
"Don't," Buck's expression grows wary. "Don't do that. I don't want that."
"Too late. It's done."
"You don't get decide that what I did was okay."
"Maybe. But I get to decide that I'm okay with it. And you can't stop me." He kisses the divot between Buck's brows until it softens. "Maybe it makes me a freak too, but I kind of like thinking about you wanting me so bad. I don't like to think about you beating yourself up about it, but the thought of you so worked up. Unable to stop yourself?" He kisses Buck's lips until Buck stops pouting and kisses him back, then he pulls back with a nip at Buck's lower lip. "I was there too, you know. It felt like the world was ending. People were losing their minds from the stress, you remember."
"I do."
"I had nightmares, you remember that."
"Yeah, but--"
"A couple times I woke up and I didn't know where I was, and you did what?"
"I guess I held you for a minute?"
"You held me *down*, Buck. Remember? We never talked about it, just like we never talked about a lot of things. But what I remember about sleeping with you back then is the times I woke up and I was still under attack, swinging, ready to run and probably break my neck on your stupid loft stairs, and you *wouldn't let me*. You climbed on top of me and sat on me, and grabbed my shoulders and put all your weight on me, and you whispered my name until I was back. Shannon, I don't blame her, I could've hurt her. I don't blame her for getting away from me. I was scared I'd hurt you too, but you weren't afraid. You were heavy and strong, and I remember thinking..."
"Tell me."
"I remember thinking...if he would just lay down on top of me. If he would just put his whole body on top of mine and hold me down like that, if I really knew that he *had* me, I could let go. Buck would keep me safe."
Buck nuzzles Eddie's cheek and kisses it softly. "You could've asked, you know. I would've."
"I know. That's probably why I didn't. And if I'd woken up to you," he cups Buck's flaccid cock and strokes his thumb over the soft skin. "Touching this? I don't know what I would've done. I wouldn't have hit you. I know that."
"Yeah?" The question is soft, so unsure.
"Worst case scenario, I probably would have ignored it. I was in the army a while, Buck. You think I don't have practice tuning out the sound of someone across the room beating it?"
"I wasn't across the room though. I was in bed with you."
"Touching toes, like a total freak." He kisses Buck's forehead. "Who knows. Maybe I would have started touching myself next you. Real quiet." He pulls the covers up past their waists and finds Buck's dick again, a little plumper than it was moments ago. Very, very slowly, careful not to rustle the blanket, he fondles Buck. "So careful."
"Yeah?" Now the question is breathless.
"Maybe touching you wouldn't have seemed so crazy, if the world was ending."
"The world didn't end."
"Felt like it was, though. For a minute there, anyway. And maybe, just maybe, if I woke up and realized what you were doing, I'd have gotten so fucking turned on," he shifts slowly and carefully so he's fully on top of Buck, beneath the covers, one knee wedging between Buck's legs. Buck rocks up against Eddie's thigh, growing harder by the second. "I'd have to do this."
"We would need to be quiet," Buck barely breathes.
"So quiet." Eddie lays a hand over Buck's mouth. Molasses-slow, Eddie rocks against Buck. "You'd be so good for me, wouldn't you, though."
Buck nods his head then lifts his arms and crosses his wrists above it. He half turns his head enough for Eddie to slide his hand off Buck's mouth. "I'd be scared," Buck tells him.
"Of me?"
"Of fucking us up. Needing you too much."
Eddie rolls his hips until he finds the angle and Buck moans. "We'd be so weird about it, wouldn't we? Totally pretend nothing happened all day, all shift."
"Couldn't stop think about it though. Couldn't say two words to you, I bet. Everyone would think we'd had a fight."
"And then the next night," Eddie slips off of Buck and rolls to his side on the bed beside him, "in the dark, under the covers."
"I'd be waiting," Buck whispers.
"Yeah." Eddie skims a ghost of a touch along Buck's side. "We'd wait for them to fall asleep downstairs. And I'd touch you just like this." He strokes again, this times barely grazing his knuckles up into Buck's pit. "So you'd know what wanted."
So soft Eddie can barely make it out, Buck asks, "You'd want me?"
"I would." He kisses Buck softly on the mouth. "I do." Again. "To be fair, I would probably have some dumb rule like no kissing because that's too gay."
Buck snorts. "And I'd deal with with it."
"But that wouldn't last. Not with that mouth of yours." Eddie kisses it again. "I was losing my mind a little, we all were. Given a chance, I'd probably say why not lose together? With him? Given the chance, who knows?"
"We'd probably be married by now if we'd--" He snaps his mouth shut. "Sorry, no, I didn't mean--"
"Don't be sorry. You're not wrong. I can see it."
Buck inhales sharply and searches Eddie's face.
"You can't see it?"
Buck licks his lips. "I do."
So does Eddie. And if he's not careful, the next words out of his mouth are gonna be, "Would you do me the honor," and it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, but he'd like them to have a proposal story they can share unedited, and "Naked and spunk-covered and talking dirty about theoretical furtive mutual quarantine mastubation' didn't have the same ring to it as any of the half a dozen scenarios Eddie's already gamed out. Buck deserves a big gesture and public acknowledgment and Eddie down on one knee and the perfect ring.
So he lightens the mood (something he's not shitty at, thank you very much) and says, "Okay, so, last night when we're already together, so it's fine. And five years ago when it felt like the world was ending, so you get a pass."
"It still--"
"Eh! Nope. Too late. You have the pass now, no take backs."
"Fine."
"That all you got for me?"
Buck grows wary. "What do you mean?"
"Any more sexy little stories about how you were so hot for me, you couldn't help yourself?"
"Eddie..."
"That's not a no. You can tell me the truth."
"Why do you care?"
"Feeling guilty sucks. And I think you feel guilty about whatever it is. And I don't want you to feel guilty. And...it's hot for me to imagine. Come on. Say no, and I'll drop it, I swear. But don't you wanna be a good boy for me?"
"You gonna be mad if I say no?"
"I promise I'm not."
"What if it's not sexy, though?"
Eddie has trouble picturing a scenario where Buck jerks off about him and it's not sexy, but he lays a hand over Buck's chest. "I'll deal. I promise."
"Promise you won't get mad."
"I promise I will not get mad at you."
"At anyone."
Eddie cocks his head. "Anyone like who?"
"Promise."
"I promise."
Buck shrugs and pushes himself to sit up straight, back against the headboard. "Okay. Fuck it."
Eddie sits up too and puts his hand high Buck's shoulder, thumb brushing his carotid, Right on the spot that always calms Buck. "Fuck it," he says solemnly. Then he waits.
"There was one other time, okay? Just one. But again, you gotta remember I was not in a good head space, not that that's an excuse." When Eddie nods, he continues. "Remember last year after Tommy broke up with me and I came over and you weren't wearing any pants?
He does. He smirks.
"You put on shorts, and we drank, and we didn't really talk."
"You needed company. I got that. I figured you'd talk when you wanted to."
"No, it was perfect. It was just what I needed. But then I crashed there. I was pretty drunk."
"We both were."
"Yeah. So I woke up on the couch and you'd already gone to bed, and I guess you stripped in the hall, because when I went to the bathroom, your clothes were all there, in a line to your bedroom. And just inside your bedroom they were right there on the floor. Your briefs. Those tighty whities you'd been wearing. And you were passed out naked on top of your covers. Your ass." Buck shakes his head. "It was just right there."
A thrill goes through Eddie. "Okay."
"I picked them up and I stood in the doorway. I stayed in the doorway, but I was so mad. I was so mad that he had..." Buck presses his lips together, obvious distress twisting his brow. "No, you know what? No. I changed my mind. Forget I said anything. Forget all this. I don't know what I'm talking about."
Eddie gentles Buck with a hand on his chest. "Keep talking. It's okay. You were mad. And."
"I wasn't sad anymore, I was mad at Tommy, and the way he had..." He stops for a long time. Then he finally looks up at Eddie with resolve. "I don't even know why I'm protecting him"
"Protecting him how?"
"I was mad at Tommy that night because I think I knew on some level that he broke up with me because of you. And I was mad because it felt like he put that idea in my head and then wouldn't stop punishing me for it."
"I don't understand."
"I don't know why, but the whole time we were together, and I mean the *whole* time, he was hung up on the idea that I wanted you. 'Every gay lusts after his straight best friend at some point, Evan, it's a rite of passage. You're not special.' Didn't matter how much I told him it wasn't true."
"First of all, fuck him. You are special."
"Yeah but second of all, I mean, was he wrong? Not really."
"Who cares. That's fucked up. Talk about head games."
Buck chuckles weakly. "So anyway, anyway." He looks away. "Anyway, a couple weeks before he broke up with me, he was grabbing a shirt or something from my laundry. And some of your stuff must've gotten mixed in with mine."
"Sure." That'd been happening for years. Nothing notable there.
"He found these underwear in the dirty clothes, and he was like, 'these are so cute Evan, why don't you ever wear these for me?' I told them they were yours and he got...not mad. But, I don't know. Weird."
The smallness of Buck's voice chills Eddie. "Weird how?"
Re: FILL: Buddie CNC, drugged, somno (5/?)
(Anonymous) 2025-05-30 06:25 am (UTC)(link)This is sooo good. I love them both exploring their entanglement of shame and attraction through Buck's confessions, the way Eddie is so into the idea of any expression of Buck's want for him.
Re: FILL: Buddie CNC, drugged, somno (5/?)
(Anonymous) 2025-05-30 01:37 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Buddie CNC, drugged, somno (5/?)
(Anonymous) 2025-05-30 01:38 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Buddie CNC, drugged, somno (5/?)
(Anonymous) 2025-05-30 01:42 pm (UTC)(link)