Eddie only has Snapchat because Chris begged him to use it, and Eddie’s not stupid, he’s not letting a ten year old use social media with no restrictions or boundaries. He’s seen Hen watch enough Catfish to know that.
But Chris puppy dog eyed him and pleaded. He wants to use it to message Buck and send silly filters back and forth. Buck isn’t much better at the other end, just batting his eyes jokingly in response. It would be annoying if it wasn’t cute enough to make your teeth rot. From both of them. Not that Eddie’s touching that thought with a ten foot pole.
“Only on my phone,” Eddie amends. He’s pulling his serious-dad voice when he extends his cell towards Chris, pulling it back at the last minute to warn: “And only to Buck or Harry, okay?”
Chris is practically bubbling with excitement when Eddie releases his phone with a sigh.
That’s how he gets into this mess. Buck and his son pressure him into using a stupid social media app that Eddie’s pretty sure is only used by high school students and like, drug dealers.
Buck is weirdly too delighted by this. He’s taken to sending photos to Eddie once Chris has gone to sleep, just random things like a dessert he’ll make, or a good movie that pops up on cable, an obese dog in his building’s elevator.
He’s been pelted all night with random messages like this. The last one had been Buck’s sock and a caption like “found a hole :(“ and really Eddie can’t pretend he’s not teetering on the edge of annoyance and fondness. He likes how stupid and happy Buck is to send him whatever thoughts cross his mind.
There’s a lull in their messages when it crosses eleven pm and Eddie is contemplating sleep or another episode of whatever game show rerun has restarted. He doesn’t expect the rapid fire messages flooding his screen and the harsh vibration of his phone against the coffee table nearly scaring him.
It’s Buck, because who else messages him. And especially this late. What he is not prepared for, however, is the content of said messages.
Snapchat from Bucky
Messages: from Evan
DONT OPEN THAT!! ACCIDENTALLY SENT U A DICK PIC
There’s a string of what Eddie can only describe as increasingly distressed emojis following that.
And okay, this is the moment when Eddie should open the snap without looking and text something snarky and teasing back. Except, he doesn’t do that. Eddie would really like to know why he doesn’t do that.
He needs to claim temporary insanity because what he does instead is let his finger hover over the message notification and press down without thinking about why.
Eddie makes a wounded noise in the back of his throat. The photo is all soft lighting and the jut of Buck’s hips below his abs and it makes Eddie's throat run dry. Eddie can see the faint trail of hair running down Buck’s navel and the veins across his forearm where he’s gripping himself. It’s obscene, is what it is, the way Eddie can see Buck’s leaking and leaving his stomach wet and a little shiny.
Eddie groans again. Because Jesus, it’s not fair. Buck’s dick is just as big and pretty as the rest of him.
There’s a timer on the photo and it’s rapidly counting down. And Eddie’s already thrown any sense of logic or dignity he has out the window, so he replays it. He looks at it again because his brain is fried from seeing it the first time.
He’s not stupid. It’s not meant for him . Buck’s already stated that, rather urgently, too.
Message: from Evan
WHAT !! fuck
Message: to Evan
I didn’t know you were back with Ali
Message: from Evan
Message: to Evan
Then who are you sending dick pics to at midnight
And oh. Eddie’s really stupid, isn’t he? Buck’s clearly angling for a booty call. From someone that is not his ex girlfriend. Or Eddie. Obviously.
Message: from Evan
Message: to Evan
Jesus. Go to sleep, Buck
— — —
Buck doesn’t mention it the next day, but Eddie almost wishes he would. Both for selfish reasons, like the fact he liked what he saw, too much. And because Buck has been staring at him quizzically every time he thinks Eddie’s not looking.
He never mentions it, though. And Eddie doesn’t either. It’s fine.
— — —
Buck comes into work a few days later and Eddie sees twin bruises hugging his hip bones. Eddie doesn’t mention that either, but it makes his blood boil a bit.
He guesses whoever Buck meant to send that photo to got a redo of the one Eddie received. And it clearly worked. There’s faint scratches on Buck’s shoulders too when he peels his shirt off at the end of shift.
Eddie very purposefully keeps his mouth shut and gets his stuff together. When he closes his locker, Buck’s eyes are focused on Eddie.
“Can I still come over?” Buck looks sheepish. “For movie night. Wall-E tonight, right?”
Buck’s smile is blinding in return.
— — —
Everything is fine after that, except for the fact that it isn’t. That Eddie isn’t. Him and Buck are back to normal, except now Eddie has intimate knowledge of what Buck looks like jerking off. And he can’t stop thinking about it when Buck’s sleeves stretch impossibly across his biceps or a sliver of skin peeks up when he stretches. He can’t stop thinking about it, period.
Buck comes in with more marks. Just small ones in places only visible in varying states of undress. There’s a faint hickey on the inside of his thigh and more bruises on his hips, like he’s been held down and tightly so.
Eddie carefully refrains from commenting — except.
Except there’s a guy who comments on some of Buck’s Instagram posts now. And it’s flirty . It’s not how friends talk to each other. This is probably the Snapchat guy, Eddie reasons. And he hates him a little bit for that.
Hen mentions it in passing during a shift and Buck just blushes a little and shrugs it off, but his eyes drift over to Eddie’s briefly, and what the hell is he supposed to do with that.
Eddie stalks the guy that night once he’s in the comfort of his own home and has eased the tension with a beer or two. Liquid confidence or whatever.
The guy’s profile is in public, like a douche, but most of his photos are innocent enough. He’s hiking, or surfing. Eddie scrunches his nose up at that because surfing ? There’s some at bars or trendy spots that Eddie has certainly never gone to.
He’s tanner than Buck, which isn’t very hard, but shorter and his hair is darker. He’s not broad and muscled like Buck is, he isn’t even close to Eddie. And their haircuts are similar except Eddie’s pretty sure his doesn’t look that stupid and — oh .
Eddie’s not being cocky, but he’s pretty sure he’s the upgraded version of this guy. Or that guy’s the off-brand, Walmart version of Eddie.
He flushes and it could be a coincidence, but Eddie really hopes it’s not.
— — —
When Buck comes over for dinner and homemade tie dye (a horrible idea that Buck will be forever punished for) he’s on his phone more than usual, which means he’s on his phone at all. There’s a small frown creasing his face every time the screen lights up, but it slides off whenever Chris looks over.
“Everything okay?” It could be Maddie and the pregnancy, or his doctors.
“What? Oh, no.” Buck’s blushing slightly. “I had plans tonight, but my canceling didn’t go over very well.”
Something possessive grabs at Eddie’s heart. He likes that Buck’s here, and that he’s choosing to be over something else, over someone else.
“You don’t have to stay,” Eddie shrugs. He tries to be nonchalant. Buck hadn’t planned to stay this long, past dinner and into TV time. Not that Eddie would ever kick him out.
“Nah, I’d rather be here.”
Buck’s smile is a thousand watts, bright and blinding when Eddie meets his eyes.
When Buck takes Chris to get ready for bed, he leaves his phone on the kitchen counter. And Eddie’s not trying to peek, okay? But Buck’s phone keeps pinging with messages and lighting up where it’s face up next to where Eddie’s drying dishes, and a man can only be so strong.
There’s some texts from a guy, the Instagram-commenter, surfer-douche guy. Eddie connects the dots. Buck had plans with him, but he canceled to spend time with Chris, with Eddie. He doesn’t feel victorious, but it’s nice . It’s nice that Buck fits so seamlessly into their lives and that he wants to be here just as much as Chris and Eddie want him to be.
When Buck re-emerges he scans his phone screen before flipping it over, like he’s bored and borderline annoyed.
“Baseball?” Buck asks. Eddie’s not going to say no to that.
— — —
Buck doesn’t come in with any more marks after that, and Eddie pretends not to be so pleased by that.
Buck doesn’t send him any more photos, though. And Eddie pretends not to be so disappointed by that.
— — —
It’s steady and okay, and Eddie can cope with their friendship maintaining its normalcy. But then Maddie decides she can’t spend all her free time being doted on by Chimney and her brother, so she shoves him and Buck out the door telling them to have fun! in a way that definitely means please leave me alone . So it’s her fault, or the fault of the pregnancy hormones or whatever, because Buck and Chim take it upon themselves to pull everyone else into their shame spiral.
“It is not a shame spiral!” Buck whines.
Chim nods agreement between chomping down on chips. “Exactly. This is comradery. So either shut up and drink your BOGO margaritas, or take those judgemental eyes somewhere else, Henrietta .”
Eddie doesn’t think the full name call-out works when you’re halfway to plastered, or shorter than the person the threat is directed to, or if it works against Hen at all.
Buck slurps obnoxiously and says, “This is just like college,” which, okay, answers a lot of questions of what Buck was like. Eddie’s seen photos of when Buck first joined the 118, hat backward and too tan smiles, like he was gunning for the frat boy of the year award.
Eddie says “Fuck it” with a shrug and steals Buck’s spare glass. He’s not going to let Buck and Chimney get trashed alone, that would just be bad manners.
— — —
“I think my head has a pulse,” Buck moans into Chim’s shoulder.
Hen is stifling a laugh behind them. Buck and Chimney are slumped against each other on the curb, waiting for an Uber that feels like it’ll never come.
Eddie’s better than them. He can’t even remember he’s had a night like this where he can be all loose and happy.
It feels like a miracle when the car pulls up minutes later. Buck is pouting comically out the window and Eddie thinks about it all the way home.
His house feels big and empty when he unlocks the door and shuffles into the kitchen. His throat is raspy and sore after shouting at the bar all night. Hen insisted on a darts tournament and Eddie is, apparently, a very vocal cheerleader when he has five bucks and the next round of drinks riding on Chimney not fucking up his final throw.
Buck has already started sending him photos. The first few snaps are all of Chim in varying degrees of distress. Buck has found Chimney spilling half the contents of the Brita over Buck’s kitchen floor far too amusing. Following that, there’s a couple of him helplessly trying to mop up the spill with the decorative tea towels Maddie gave Buck. They are very cute and apparently very much not functional.
The last photo is Chim passed out on Buck’s couch.
Tucked him ! :-) Buck captions that one. There’s a familiar fuzzy blanket swallowing 90% of Chimney’s body.
Eddie sends something back and when he doesn’t get an immediate reply he goes through the motions of getting ready for bed.
It’s why he nearly chokes upon opening Buck’s next photo. He has to set his phone down and spit out toothpaste, chug some tap water, and send a silent prayer up.
Buck’s sent this photo on the infinity timer and Eddie can’t decide if that’s the best or worst thing in the world.
It’s somewhat similar to the photo before, except now Buck’s still wearing briefs that are tight, and it’s like the uniform shirt crises all over again. The fabric looks obscene over the tops of Buck’s thighs, stretched snugly over muscle.
Buck’s gripping the outline of his dick in the photo, and Eddie can see where the fabric is straining below his palm, where the material is wet around the head of his dick.
The caption just says: long night.
Eddie thinks this one might be worse than the first one, because he wants so badly to replace Buck’s hand with his and do more than rub hot palms along the prominent bulge.
When he forces himself to look away, Eddie pulls up their text thread and tries to clear his head.
Messages: to Evan
Wrong person again?
Buck’s reply is quick.
Messages: from Evan
He doesn’t sound very embarrassed, and surely not nearly as apologetic as last time. And for a second Eddie wonders if it wasn’t a mistake. Maybe Buck wanted him to see this.
That’s his defense for switching back to Snapchat and sending in reply a photo of the water cup and Advil bottle on his bathroom vanity. There’s a very clear view of where Eddie’s abs meet the towel knotted around his waist. His skin is still damp from the shower and Eddie knows what he must look like.
Long night he sends with it.
Messages: from Evan
Wrong person too?
Messages: to Evan
Eddie is definitely in trouble.
— — —
Buck doesn’t seem to have one ounce of shame during their next shift. He’s all sly glances and passing touches. Eddie can’t tell if he’s dialing it up or if he’s always been this tactile and Eddie was just too dense to notice. He’s noticing now, though. It’s driving him slightly insane.
Bobby invites everyone out to dinner the next night, but Buck begs off. “I have a date,” he clarifies.
Eddie is not being bitter or jealous.
“Maybe I’ll cancel though. If something better comes up.” Eddie feels eyes on the back of his neck.
He swallows around the words threatening to burst out.
— — —
Eddie doesn’t call or text. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to do here. It feels like they’re teetering on the edge of more, of what Eddie has wanted for months. But now that they’re here, he’s scared.
Buck sends him a photo that’s innocent enough. Him in his sweats with a band of skin peeking out between his shirt and drawstring waistline. You could blink and miss it. Eddie doesn’t, though, is the thing.
Buck’s hinting at that something more, but Eddie doesn’t take the bait. He sends back a photo of the Godfather rerun he’s watching and goes to bed before doing something stupid and selfish.
— — —
Next time Chim suggests an Irish pub and shitty bar snacks, Eddie takes him up on his offer with a strict warning that it better not end like last time.
“No promises.” Buck’s smile is big and toothy when they settle into a corner booth.
It’s not like last time. Buck is all expressive hands and overwhelming smiles when he starts talking, telling Chimney and Josh an embarrassing story about Maddie. They’re pulled in by Buck, everybody is. He’s bouncing with excitement that’s infectious, and he’s always the type of person who listens eagerly rather than waiting for his own turn to talk.
Chim’s shifted to picking Eddie’s brain on random baby questions, not that Eddie’s any expert, when he notices Buck’s been gone awhile.
“Classic,” Chimney snorts. “He used to always do this.”
Eddie follows his line of vision and sees Buck perched against the bar with a very pretty girl leaning into him. Whatever she’s saying is funny because Buck’s eyes are crinkling with laughter, and it’s not even the awkward, polite laugh he gives pushy people on calls, it’s his genuine and pleased laugh. Eddie wants to rip the sweaty, soggy pieces of his beer label into shreds.
Buck’s eyes suddenly meet his and his chin lifts in a way that’s almost daring. He turns back to the girl, but when her hand comes to settle on his arm, Buck’s staring Eddie down again. His eyebrows lift slightly, just enough for Eddie to see the challenge he’s setting up.
Eddie doesn’t know what to do. He wants Buck, that’s never been the problem. It’s the expansiveness of how much he wants that makes him nervous.
He picks at the last of his food and gives Chimney some cash before practically bolting out of the pub and into the cool midwinter air, gulping it up and trying to resettle the heart beating furiously against his rib cage.
— — —
Buck’s grumpy when he comes in the next morning. He’s still looking at Eddie, but his stare is cutting and impatient. Frustrated and closed off.
When shift ends Eddie leaps out of the station with a flimsy excuse about going to get Chris and take him to an imaginary play date which is very pressing and time sensitive.
It’s only somewhat a lie. Chris goes to a sleepover that night, but it’s hours after he gets off work and with no necessity to rush. Eddie feels like a sad sack hanging around his couch watching Survivor with Chinese take out on a Saturday night.
Buck knocks, which in itself is weird, but when Eddie answers the door Buck simply pushes past him and into the kitchen.
“I don’t get you,” he says, face red and exasperated.
Eddie’s caught off guard.
“No, just — Eddie, I don’t get you. First I accidentally send you — but you don’t even bring it up, right?” Buck’s hands are moving wildly with his words, jumping from one thought to another with him.
“And then, I think I’ll test the waters. I send you another and you — you had to know what you were doing. But then — but last night?”
Eddie’s mouth snaps shut. He doesn’t know what he could possibly say, what Buck might even want him to say.
“I can’t tell,” Buck settles on. “Sometimes you act like you want me, but sometimes you act like, like — like, I don’t even know. Like it’s all fine and dandy to see other people flirting with me. Like you don’t care that they want to take me home and —”
Eddie mashes their mouths together before Buck can finish the thought. He pulls back and runs fingers through the curls behind Buck’s ear in apology for the rough start. When Buck doesn’t push back, Eddie tilts his head to find that angle where they fit together and everything feels plush and soft and dangerously good.
“I want you,” Eddie urges when they finally pull apart. “Buck, you don’t even know. When you sent me that first photo…”
“Yeah?” Buck’s back to being cocky and Eddie refuses to admit how much he likes that.
He leans back in and mumbles against Buck’s mouth. “Looked so good. I wanted to kill whoever it was meant for.”
Buck whines, high and reedy.
“Not fair,” he protests. Their bodies are so close together now and Eddie presses in against him without thinking about it.
“I wanted you to look. I’ve been here the whole time. It was a mistake that first time, but I liked knowing you looked.”
Eddie can’t not groan at that.
“I noticed,” he promises. “I always notice.” He’s back to biting against Buck’s ear and letting his hands wander over Buck’s chest.
“So show me. Show me what you noticed.”
Eddie’s not one to back down from this challenge, not after last night. He lets his hands dip under Buck’s shirt and tease the waistline above his belt.
“Do you even know what you looked like?”
Buck’s face glows in response and he bullies Eddie’s shirt over his head to spread hot hands against the dip of his back.
“You’re shameless.” Eddie nips at his neck.
“I think we’re way past that.”
Eddie gives Buck what he wants. How could he not?
“You looked so good,” Eddie tells him again when he pulls Buck’s shirt off as well. He starts pulling at his belt and presses Buck further against the wall. He’s not completely sure when they ended up in this spot, but he’s not complaining. He couldn’t try to give a shit once he has Buck in his hands, sweet and eager under his touch.
“So hot, Buck. Your hands…” Buck spreads one over Eddie’s chest and rubs slow circles against the skin there. “Yeah. Just like that.”
Buck is clearly pained when he pushes Eddie back to get more than an inch of space between them.
“This isn’t just sex, though.” His eyes are big and worried where they trace Eddie’s face. “I want this. I want you .”
“Okay. Okay, yeah.” Eddie nods quickly. “You have to know I want this. And not just because you look like -” he gestures stupidly to Buck’s body. Buck flushes under his touch. “Like that, yeah.” Eddie leans his forehead against Buck’s temple. “Because it’s you.”
Buck’s face is open and raw with joy, his eyes crinkling in the corner and cheeks twitching, like he doesn’t know what to do with everything he’s feeling.
— — —
However great Eddie thought seeing those photos was, it has nothing on how Buck looks stretched out on top of him, how his thighs feel where they’re caging Eddie in. Buck’s palming himself where he’s tenting in his briefs and Eddie doesn’t know how he could ever go back to not seeing this.
Eddie’s fingers are creeping under the edge of where the material stretches impossibly around Buck’s inner thigh.
“I could play coy,” Buck warns. “All look, no touch.”
Eddie snorts and replaces Buck’s hand with his own, pressing down as he moves his hand up the length of Buck’s dick.
“Or not. Okay, fuck, that’s enough. You gotta touch me.”
He has to laugh at how tight and whiny Buck sounds.
“No more playing coy?”
“Are you going to argue or are you going to fuck me?”
Eddie splutters for a moment. “The second one. Definitely the second one.”
Eddie is not prepared for how Buck looks around his fingers. He takes his time, leaving sucking kisses on his inner thigh before giving Buck what he wants. If it’s exactly where those hickeys were weeks ago, Eddie will feign ignorance.
Buck’s a brat, which Eddie knew, except when he finally starts to work himself back onto Eddie’s dick, he says “Better than you imagined?” and Eddie wants to bang his head into a wall and also cuff Buck on the back of the head.
He doesn’t know how Buck is even forming words because Eddie’s breathing has gone all fucked out and heavy. Buck’s a solid weight on top of him and his lips are so soft and sweet against his mouth and he’s hot and tight around him, and that’s not even factoring in what he looks like. His lips are slick and impossibly pink where they’re falling open and his eyes are so dark and intense as he looks Eddie over like he’s the best thing he’s ever seen. It’s overwhelming.
Eddie has to wait for Buck to bottom out before answering. “You know it’s better, so show me that.”
Buck doesn’t need more than that to huff out a laugh and start moving, keeping Eddie nice and deep with a dirty little circling of his hips. It’s obscene; it’s sinful. Eddie could spend forever looking at Buck like this. He’s kinda having a crisis over how much he likes this, likes Buck.
“Stop thinking so much.” Buck fits a kiss between Eddie’s brows where his skin is scrunched up in concentration. “And fuck me.”
It’s not surprising, the fact that Buck would be loud in bed, but it’s a whole other thing to see it in action. There’s hurt little moans sliding out his mouth when he tilts his hips and starts fucking down for real, hot and hard and overwhelming. When Eddie meets him thrust for thrust with an ironclad hold on his hips, Buck lets his mouth fall open in a soundless gasp.
“Thought about this,” Buck pants when his hands wander over Eddie’s collarbone and pushes down for leverage. Eddie nearly blacks out for a second.
“Huh?” Eddie doesn’t know how Buck expects him to hold on a conversation when he’s writhing on Eddie’s dick and clenching down with every thrust.
“When I took those photos. This is what I was thinking about.”
Eddie almost says Oh, that’s nice because his brain is still a little fried.
“I thought about this, too” Eddie settles on. “When I saw the photos. I thought about you, about this. How you’d look on my dick.”
Buck whimpers and speeds up.
“Wanted to see what happened after the photos. Wanted to see how you looked touching yourself.”
Buck laughs. “Today’s your lucky day.” His hands move from Eddie’s chest and leans back to touch himself, put himself on display for Eddie. He’s still bouncing lightly when he wraps a hand around himself.
“Like this?” It’s all light touches and slow strokes. It’s not what Eddie wants.
Buck grins when he sees Eddie’s face. He thumbs at his slit where he’s been leaking precome and this is what Eddie thought about, it’s dirty and addictive to watch. “Or this?”
His hand moves faster, but still slow and tight over the head. It’s frustrating.
“Let me,” Eddie offers, his hand already covering Buck’s and tightening the grip and moving at a relentless pace.
“I swear I’m impressed,” Buck pants. “But I need you to --” Eddie changes the angle and thrusts up harshly. Buck’s voice trails off. “That. More of that.” He meets Eddie thrust for thrust and doesn’t care how wanton and desperate he might sound.
When Buck comes, Eddie throws his head back because he can’t look at how open and satisfied the look on Buck’s face is. It doesn’t take much more of Buck grinding down and moving to mouth down Eddie’s neck to bring him undone.
Buck looks like he’s won a trophy when Eddie comes and groans against his throat.
He looks so sweet like this, curled under Eddie’s sheets and pillowing his head on Eddie’s chest.
“Jesus, you are like a puppy.” Buck gives him a sharp little bite for that.
“You’re not kicking me out in the morning,” Buck warns as he settles himself further under Eddie’s arm. The heat of his body beside Eddie’s is intoxicating and Eddie never wants to let him go. They still need to talk about this, about all the feelings that don’t seem so big and scary anymore, but it can hold off for one more night.
“If I did that, who would make me coffee?” Buck answers Eddie’s smirk with a pinch.
It’s easy to fall asleep with Buck’s head mashed into his shoulder and his breath steady against him. Eddie presses his lips to the top of Buck’s head and keeps them there. He likes how intimate it feels, and even more so how natural it seems, like they fit perfectly together.
— — —
Eddie should haven’t expected better. Buck’s left hours ago, tired from a full day of picking Chris up and shaking off the post-sleepover energy by playing air hockey and making slime -- which, seriously, Eddie is never going to let Buck come over again if he keeps proposing horribly messy things like this. Eddie’s been in bed for all of ten minutes when his phone vibrates next to his head.
Snapchat: from Bucky
It’s a video this time, and one with a money shot. Buck’s in bed, Eddie can see the stripes of his sheets against his skin, and he’s stripping his dick with long, purposeful strokes. He can see the marks Eddie left inside his thighs. And God help him, there’s audio with this so Eddie can hear the harsh sounds Buck’s making without meaning to. When he comes, his voice trails off into something high and so, so needy and Eddie’s blindingly hard, to the surprise of absolutely no one.
The video is set on a loop and Eddie groans. He calls Buck and frowns when he gets his voicemail instead. It’s not like he’s busy jerking off, Eddie saw the proof of that.
Messages: from Evan
Do u need something? :)
Messages: to Evan
Messages: from Evan
Oh yea? Show me
Eddie’s already smiling like a dope down at his phone and he’s really in trouble in the best way possible.