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Buck stares in confusion at the dark cloud in the distance. It’s in that uncomfortably familiar funnel shape that he hasn’t seen a hint of since he left the Midwest over 10 years ago—Los Angeles has earthquakes (and tsunamis), not tornados.
The 118 is out on a routine call, a collision on the 405 that blocked a couple lanes of traffic. A few smashed cars to move off the road, a few non-life threatening injuries to take a look at, no big deal.
They’re packing up to go now, Gerrard hovering by the ambulance as Hen and Chim load it up with their gear. He’s too far away to hear, but Buck is sure that the interim captain is nagging them about something or other.
But now Buck’s stopped to look at the cloud, and Eddie stops next to him. “Buck?” He asks, one hand over his eyes as he squints in the sunlight. He looks good in the sun, all golden and glowing, brown eyes sparkling over his freshly trimmed mustache. Buck wants to lick him. He wonders if Eddie would—wait. The cloud. Tornado. Right.
He turns back. The cloud’s getting closer now, and it’s actually a sort of odd shape that doesn’t look like a tornado at all anymore. It’s almost like –
“Bee-nado!” Chim screams from behind them in a suspiciously excited tone.
Buck and Eddie exchange glances, and then look back at the cloud. And—Chimney’s not wrong. The cloud speeding towards them is most definitely a cycling, writhing swarm of bees.
“Take cover!” Hen yells, and everyone makes for the closest vehicle. Buck and Eddie were standing slightly further away from the ambulance than everyone else, and though they make a run for it, it’s already chock full of firefighters when they get close.
“Buckley, Diaz—truck!” Gerrard barks out, before slamming the door in their faces. All around them, car doors close and windows roll up. The swarm is close enough to hear now, a low buzzing noise that’s getting louder every second. Buck’s still gaping at the closed ambulance door in front of them, curling his hand into a fist as he prepares to pound on it and beg for entry.
“Buck—let’s go!” Eddie says urgently, grabbing Buck’s elbow and dragging him towards the engine. The bees are almost on them now, closing in as they break into a run.
A sharp sting on the side of his neck causes Buck to stumble for a moment in shock. Eddie stops with him, arm still gripping tightly onto Buck’s. There’s a bee perched on the tip of his ear, and Buck wants to stroke his finger along the shell, shoo it off. He’s jealous of a bee, for Christ’s sake, just because it gets to touch Eddie when he can’t.
Another sting jolts him out of it, and he and Eddie cover the last few paces to the truck. The bee-nado, as Chim so aptly put it, hits just as they’re climbing in. They bar the door behind them, but a little flock of bees manages to follow them in, buzzing around their heads in the engine.
The swarm outside is loud, like a dumb kid revving their souped up motorcycle. And it almost sounds like it’s raining, which must be the noise of bees ramming themselves into the sides of the fire truck.
Eddie squishes a bee beneath his boot, and then their radios crackle to life at the same time. “118, call out with your position!” Comes Gerrard’s staticky voice.
They report back, and Buck slaps another bee that’s crawling along his arm. “How many times have you been stung?” Eddie asks, fumbling around with the first aid kit.
Buck shrugs. There’s a bee in his jacket, he can feel it moving around, but it hasn’t stung him yet and he’s a little hesitant to take it off where there’s still a decent amount of bees in the truck with them. Buck rubs at a sting on the back of his hand. It doesn’t hurt as much as he expected, honestly. It was painful at first, but all but the freshest ones have already faded.
Once the bees in the truck with them are either dead or calmed down enough to not be a danger, Buck slips out of his jacket. Eddie treats Buck carefully, and his hands are soft and soothing as he works with the tweezers, getting the stingers out. Eddie’s always gentle like that with patients—his big brown eyes concentrated, his lips pursed just slightly. A swoop of hair falling down over his forehead. Broad shoulders and big hands and—Buck shakes his head. He knows he’s got it bad for Eddie, okay? Being trapped in close quarters in the firetruck with him is not the time to be thirsting all over his straight best friend.
When Eddie’s finished, they switch, and Buck gets to put his hands all over Eddie, looking for stingers to get out. Eddie’s warm under his palms and Buck really needs to get his head in the game, but honestly the fire truck is starting to get really hot and it’s making it hard to concentrate. Eddie looks a little flushed too, so Buck knows it’s not just him feeling the heat.
Buck’s phone buzzes then, and he pulls it out of his inner pocket to check. It’s just Chim, who’s changed their group chat name from Core Four to Bee-nado Watch, and sent a link to Channel 8’s live news segment.
Eddie leans his head over Buck’s shoulder as he clicks the link, and Buck can feel more than see him make a face at Taylor Kelly onscreen in a full beekeeper suit. To his surprise, there’s a second feed pointed right at the engine, which takes him a second to recognize because it’s almost entirely covered in bees. Taylor’s standing way back, off the highway exit. “As you can see, the bees appear to be attracted to the color red. We encourage viewers in the area to stay home, or wear dark colors if they absolutely must go out.”
She pauses, holding a hand up to her ear for a moment before continuing. “We’re getting reports now that the bees have breached containment from a Los Angeles based research facility, and are not a natural phenomenon as was previously assumed.” Buck and Eddie exchanged worried glances at that. “We’ll keep you updated as soon as we know more. For now, this is Taylor Kelly wi–” Eddie hits the lock button on Buck’s phone before Taylor can finish her sentence.
Buck raises an eyebrow at him, and Eddie looks back with a guileless expression on his face. Buck can see right through him. Eddie’s cheeks are pink, though, which is a cute enough look on him that Buck graciously decides not to call him out on it.
They sit there in silence for a little bit, both on their phones, ignoring the plethora of bee puns that Chim and Hen are sending in the group chat. He bets they’re just trying to distract themselves from being holed up with Gerrard.
Eventually, Buck starts getting restless. He’s hot, and weirdly itchy, and Eddie looks so good lounging on the bench next to him that it’s actually annoying. He smacks another bee that’s crawling on the wall behind them, and it crowds him against Eddie, who looks up from his phone to meet Buck’s eyes.
His whole body zings from the eye contact, something hot unfurling in his gut. Because Eddie’s so close, and he’s holding his breath, and if he leaned in, like at all, he could close the distance and press his lips right up against—
“Is that a stinger in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” Eddie says, and Buck’s brain short circuits.
What?
Wait, what?
Did Eddie just hit on him with a bee pun?
Buck’s mouth is open, he’s sure he’s staring like an idiot. Eddie seems to take pity on him, because he tilts his phone over for Buck to read.
Bee-nado Watch 🐝🌪️
Chim: Best bee related pick up lines???
Eddie: You look bee-you-ti-ful today Chimney
Hen: Are you a bee? Because honey I love you!
Chim: Those are awful but I like the effort
Eddie’s in the middle of typing out his (heart attack causing) stinger related monstrosity, and Buck starts blushing furiously when he processes it. Because of course Eddie wasn’t hitting on him. Eddie’s straight.
He pulls back out his own phone, ignoring the group text and pulling back up the Channel 8 News segment, more out of spite than anything else. The feed on the truck is still here, and you can’t make out any of the red anymore, there’s so many bees. Taylor’s talking into the mic again.
“As you can see, the bees are attempting to use the engine as the basis of a new hive! They’re working incredibly fast, I’m told—but then again, this is an unprecedented number of bees. We’ve made contact with B-Tech, the parent company of the research facility, to find out exactly what is going on with these insects.”
Eddie leans over to watch again, phone forgotten, shoulder pressed up against Buck. He feels every inch that he’s touching Eddie like his skin’s on fire, shoulder to knee, and has to restrain himself from pushing closer. Taylor’s right, though—a distinctive honeycomb pattern is emerging from the side of the firetruck.
“It turns out that the bees were part of ongoing experiments for a new vasodilator, a potential organic, homegrown alternative to popular men’s prescription drug, Viagra.” Eddie snorts next to him, and Buck’s not sure if it’s somehow an insult to Taylor or if he just finds the story funny.
Buck’s not finding it particularly funny, because now that he’s thinking about it—no. Please, god, no. He shifts surreptitiously on the bench and—yep. He’s getting hard. This cannot be happening to him.
He fidgets for ten minutes or so, growing more and more aware of Eddie next to him, feeling like he’s going to itch right out of his mind. Because this—this can’t just be homegrown Viagra. There’s something else in this shit that’s making him vibrate inside of his skin. He wants Eddie—well, he always wants Eddie, but this is beyond that. He wants to pound Eddie into the side of the fire truck, wants to bend him over and sink into him so deep that Eddie can feel him in his throat. He wants Eddie inside him, his deft fingers working Buck open and making him moan and writhe and beg for—
“Buck,” Eddie says, and his voice is so close to Buck’s ear that he jumps. Eddie stares at him for a moment, impossibly near, and Buck contemplates the pros and cons of flinging himself back out into the street and dying of aphrodisiac bee stings. Anything is better than being faced with everything he can’t have while he’s fighting to ignore the effects of these god-forsaken sex bees.
Eddie reaches a hand up to cup his cheek, and Buck stops breathing. “Bee,” Eddie whispers, pupils blown wide, and then moves his hand back to show Buck the tiny insect crawling on his finger. They watch, almost frozen, as the bee stings Eddie, who lets out a soft little gasp, flicking the insect off to god knows where. Buck can’t take his eyes off Eddie’s finger, though, because Eddie is slowly raising it to his lips to suck on it.
Buck’s mouth goes dry.
Eddie pulls his finger back out with a pop, and Buck aches with want. He licks his lips. “Is this... Are you feeling this too?”
Eddie doesn’t answer, but he reaches out to trace along the seam of Buck’s lower lip with his wet finger. Buck parts his lips, and then Eddie’s pushing his finger into Buck’s mouth.
Eddie’s fucked. He is so, so, severely fucked.
It turns out all it takes to ruin a man’s life is an ill-timed sexuality crisis and a goddamn bee-nado.
Because Eddie’s gay, okay? And he’s in love with Buck, but he’s never been the best at words, right? So he did some googling, and he showed up to Buck’s loft sporting a very gay (according to the wikiHow on coming out) mustache, and Buck didn’t say anything about it besides a little teasing about him switching up his facial hair.
So he came out to Buck at the loft (sort of, even if Buck didn’t acknowledge it in any way – he had to have noticed), and Buck didn’t take the opportunity to ravish Eddie against the kitchen island, meaning either Eddie has to try to be more direct (how much clearer can he be?) or Buck isn’t interested in Eddie like that. Which, you know, sucks.
But now Eddie is here, on what was a perfectly lovely day, trapped in the fire engine with the object of all his desires, turned on out of his mind because of an escaped laboratory experiment.
And it’s hell, because Buck also got stung by the stupid sex bees, so now Buck and Eddie are trapped in the truck with nothing but each other, dosed up on some bullshit insectoid version of Viagra.
Eddie wants him so bad.
And he pulled that bee off of Buck’s face, and got stung again and it’s actually starting to feel good? And Buck was just looking at him with those big blue eyes and his lips slightly parted and Eddie couldn't help but reach out to trace along his best friend’s plush lower lip.
And now it’s all he can do to hold back a moan as his finger slips into Buck’s mouth, and Buck, beautiful sweet sexy Buck, starts to suck on it.
Buck closes his eyes, like he’s savoring the feel of Eddie’s finger on his tongue, and Eddie—Eddie snaps.
The last vestige of control he had over himself disappears in an instant, and he’s climbing, turnouts and all, into Buck’s lap.
Buck gasps in surprise, hands coming up automatically to grab Eddie by the hips. He feels possessed, hands running up Buck’s arms, his shoulders, down his chest. Buck’s so warm, muscles bulging under his department issued t-shirt, and Eddie gets distracted for a moment tracing the outline of one of his pecs. Buck lets out a soft little noise that has Eddie grinding his hips forward instinctively, suddenly desperate to get Buck to make it again.
“Eddie,” Buck says, his hands gripping hard on Eddie’s belt loops to still him. “Eddie—wait.” He’s breathing heavily, and his eyes are huge, and it takes everything Eddie has to freeze in place. Because if Buck doesn’t want this—Eddie can’t—he won’t—he’ll jerk off in the corner to get this to stop if he has to, just please God let this feeling stop.
“Buck.” He’s almost whining, it’s embarrassing. “I need - I want - if you - please, Buck, I want it.” I want you, he barely manages to keep from saying.
Buck swallows hard, looking up at him, and they’re frozen for a moment that feels like a year. And then, blessedly, he says “Oh fuck, Eddie,” and pulls Eddie closer on his lap, shifting him to a position where Eddie can feel that Buck’s hard, too.
Eddie groans, grinding down again with purpose this time, and Buck comes up to meet him. They’re both panting already, and it’s nothing for Eddie to lean down to capture Buck’s open mouth in a kiss.
It’s slick, and hot, and claiming, and there’s tongue and grunts and way too much saliva for a first kiss but Eddie doesn’t care, it all feels so good that he’s burning up with it. His hips roll, and Buck lets his head fall back against the wall of the truck with a bang. Eddie leans his head down to start kissing along Buck’s neck, while Buck slides his hands up the back of Eddie’s shirt, fingers splayed possessively over Eddie’s lower back. As if Eddie could even imagine wanting to be anywhere else.
This is—objectively insane, right, but it also feels objectively incredible. It doesn’t take long before Eddie realizes he’s about to come, and he chokes that knowledge out to Buck, who lets out a very deep groan that Eddie swallows right off of his tongue.
“Eddie,” Buck says, just that, hips bucking up, and a minute later they’ve both come in their pants in the 118’s shiniest ladder truck.
The orgasm causes some of the urgency to subside, thank god, though they take a minute to just breathe. Eddie keeps his eyes closed, a little scared of what he’ll see when he looks back down at Buck.
He wants to break the tension somehow, before he blurts out something he can’t take back in his post-orgamic haze. He takes a deep breath, eyes still closed. Buck’s quiet, under him.
“Looks like it wasn’t a stinger after all, you were just really happy to see me,” Eddie finally says, and his eyes open, and Buck’s eyes widen in surprise before a startled laugh bursts out of him and he’s shoving Eddie off his lap and onto the floor.
“Holy shit, dude, I hate you,” He says, laughing, and it’s bright and clear and beautiful, and Eddie’s so in love with him it hurts.
They reposition themselves back on the bench, silently agreeing not to talk about what just happened, but when they check their phones neither of them has service any more. Buck’s phone is paused on the live feed of Taylor Kelly in a bee suit, and Eddie tries to stop himself from glaring at it, but he’s not sure he succeeds. The buzzing from outside is muffled, now, and Eddie’s a little concerned about that.
He’s a little concerned that he’s still hard, too. He was hoping that once was enough, but the feelings are starting to ramp back up and he finds himself unable to look away from Buck’s fingers. He wants to put them in his mouth, to lick and suck and then find out what those hands would feel like wrapped around his dick. What they might feel like inside him.
He’s jolted out of that train of thought by Buck standing up and moving over to the truck door, listening, and before opening it a smidgen to peak out.
A few more bees and a veritable wave of amber comes flooding in. Buck steps back just in time, so only his lower legs get covered in sticky, gooey honey. “Uh, what the fuck?” Buck says, and Eddie shifts around to look out the door as well. It’s completely blocked by a complex honeycomb system; they’re truly trapped until the outside world gets the bees under control. No wonder they don’t have any cell service.
Fuck.
The door proves harder to close than it was to open, so Eddie gets up to help Buck push it shut. They both get stung a few more times, but luckily most of the bees seem to be on the other side of the wall of honey.
“Fuck,” Eddie says, and Buck nods his agreement.
“Guess we’re not getting out of here any time soon.” They exchange glances. There’s something heated in Buck’s eyes, and Eddie has to look away. He still wants, is the thing. Not even five minutes after coming in his pants like a teenager and he’s basically drooling over Buck all over again.
Buck’s fidgeting on the bench next to him, and Eddie guesses he must be feeling it again too. He looks down sideways at Buck’s crotch, and if he’s not imagining things, can just about see the outline of his hard dick through his turnout pants. His mouth starts to water, and fuck, he needs to get his mouth on Buck right fucking now.
So he scoots back off the bench, and gets on his knees in front of his best friend. “Can I blow you?” He says, feeling a little like an idiot but he needs to taste—he’s kneeling in a pool of honey and desire and he’s drooling.
Buck chokes, dropping his phone from where he was holding it up in the air, trying to get a connection. “Eddie, shit, um—you don’t have to, really,” He says, like Eddie’d be the one doing him a favor, like now that Eddie’s had the thought he’s ever going to be able to get it out of his head.
“Buck, please, I want to,” Eddie says, and he’s almost begging. Buck just looks down at him, shifting his hips, looking unconvinced. So Eddie takes a deep breath, letting the want, the desire, fill him up and edge out the uncertainty.
“Buck, I’m gay.”
“Uh, what?”
“I’m gay. Can I please suck your dick?”
“I’m dreaming,” Buck says. “Pinch me.”
Eddie pinches his bicep, hard, and Buck smacks him. “I didn’t mean actually, Eddie!” He complains, but then Eddie puts both hands on Buck’s thighs and he hears Buck’s breath catch in his throat.
“Please?”
Buck nods, then, almost trembling, and reaches down to shimmy himself out of his turnouts. He’s got a wet patch at the front of his uniform pants underneath, and Eddie can’t help himself—he lurches forward to mouth at it.
“Holy shit, Eddie,” Buck says, lacing his hand though Eddie’s hair to pull him off. “Wait just a second, man, I promise I’ll let you suck my dick. Let me take my pants off.”
Eddie sits back on his heels and waits, palms itching to touch, but he’s spent over 30 years of his life not sucking dick so he thinks he can make it one more minute. Probably.
The second that Buck pulls his cock out, Eddie’s on him. He tastes like skin and sweat and cum, which should definitely be gross but instead it’s so hot that Eddie has to press a palm down against himself to relieve some of the pressure.
Buck’s moaning above him as Eddie bobs his head, experimenting with finding his rhythm and using his tongue to wring more of those noises out of Buck. He finds out that Buck likes it when he grazes his teeth just lightly down the side of his shaft, and when he swirls his tongue around the head, and when he sucks him down as far as he can get him down his throat, staring up into Buck’s eyes the entire time.
Buck comes again with Eddie’s name on his lips, and to his own surprise, Eddie swallows down as much of it as he can. He’s not sure if it’s the aphrodisiac or not, but it tastes a lot better than he was expecting. Buck’s petting his hair clumsily, eyes a little glazed over, and mumbles “Pineapple. S’good for you.”
Eddie is ferociously hard, and lays his head down on Buck’s knee while he tries to subtly grind against the toe of Buck’s honey-covered boot. Buck notices, of course, and instead of pulling Eddie off of him, he lays Eddie down and sinks down next to him. “Want me to return the favor?” He says, and Eddie whimpers.
In fact, he’s so keyed up that he knows he’s not going to last long when Buck finally gets a hand on him. He’d be embarrassed, but honestly, it’s Buck, and they’re under the influence of who knows what kind of drug cocktail and anyway, Buck’s got his dick out and turnout pants around his ankles with his boots still on so he looks too stupid to be able to judge.
After a minute or two, Buck switches hands so he can lean in to kiss Eddie again, who rises up to meet him instantly. He sucks on Buck’s tongue for a little bit just to hear him moan, and then a little bit more because he’s getting the insatiable urge to take more and more of Buck into himself, to have a piece of him to keep forever.
They sit back up, Buck pressing Eddie against the seat as he kisses him insistently. It’s sweet, the way it feels like he’s trying to crawl inside Eddie’s mouth. It’s like he loves Eddie back, almost.
Buck moves to switch back to his dominant hand, and Eddie jolts when something liquid hits the tip of his dick. They both look down at Buck’s right hand, dripping with honey from where he’d had it placed on the floor. Another drop rolls off and lands on Eddie’s shaft, and he shivers.
“Go ahead,” He says, feeling Buck’s hesitancy. Which, okay. This is crazy. But he wants, needs, Buck’s hand back on him and a little bit of sugar never hurt anybody.
So Buck wraps his honey-covered hand around Eddie’s cock, and the glide goes from dry to gloriously slick, and Eddie’s back is arching, his hips bucking up into Buck’s fist. “Oh fuck, oh fuck—Jesus Christ—Buck—”.
He comes more than should be possible after his prior orgasm, so tally that on to the insane side effects created by this drug company. Buck’s staring at his own hand, covered in cum and honey, before he brings it up to his lips, tongue darting out for a taste. “Buck.” Eddie whispers, mouth dropped open a little as he watches Buck lick it all off, looking Eddie in the eyes the entire time he does it. “Buck.”
He closes his eyes, and slumps back down to the floor. He’s not sure he can take much more of this—not just physically, but being here, so close yet so far from everything he’s ever wanted. (And to be clear—nothing in his wildest dreams had ever included honey-covered hand jobs in the fire truck.)
They’re laying there on the floor of the truck, partially clothed, when Buck starts giggling next to him. “This is crazy. Like, sex bees?”
“Sex bees,” Eddie confirms, breaking out into giggles himself. Their shoulders are touching, and Eddie tamps down the urge to press closer together. He’s more clear-headed after the orgasm, and starts to hope that maybe the insane desire has passed altogether. “You know, you never contributed to the bee pick-up line conversation,” He says after a moment. He’s not even sure why he’s thinking of it, except what else are they supposed to do right now? Is help even coming? How long has it even been?
Buck scrunches his face up, deliberating. “Are you honey? Because man, I’d love to spread you,” He says after a moment, and Eddie snorts helplessly.
“That’s horrible,” He tells Buck, trying to keep his voice serious, but the grin spreads back across his face after a moment. He can’t help it. Buck’s smiling at him, flushed and sweaty, and Eddie did that. Eddie knows what it sounds like when he comes. He’s not sure he’s ever going to be able to go back.
“You loved it,” Buck argues.
I love you, Eddie thinks.
“What?”
Buck’s losing his mind.
He kissed Eddie. Or, Eddie kissed him. He can’t remember, considering Eddie was squirming on his lap and moaning his name and holy shit did he really just lick Eddie’s cum off of his fingers? And now—just now— Buck thinks he needs to get his ears checked. Maybe there’s honey in there too.
Because it really sounded like Eddie said “I love you.” Which can’t possibly be true (Buck’s still trying to grapple with the gay thing—he’s pretty sure even if this is some kind of bee induced delusion, that he’ll still never be able to forget the sight of Eddie on his knees, coming out in the same breath as begging to get Buck’s dick in his mouth.).
“Nothing,” Eddie says, too quickly, and rolls over to kiss him. He doesn’t question things after that.
They lose the rest of their clothes fast after that—they’re all covered in cum and honey anyway, so Buck can’t be bothered with where they land. And he gets to run his hands all over Eddie’s skin, sticky though they both are.
He dips his head to kiss along Eddie’s neck, dragging as many moans out of him as he can. Because he wants to keep this, to have Eddie in his arms like this forever.
Eddie’s tracing over some of his tattoos with a finger, leaving trails of honey behind him as he does it. When Buck tilts his head back to catch his breath, Eddie leans in to start trailing his finger with his tongue. And Buck is on fire, then.
There’s no way he should still be able to be hard. The raging inferno of desire hadn’t dimmed, not exactly, but he’d been able to suppress it for a minute. But now he’s lost the handle on it, and he crawls on top of Eddie, their cocks bushing together and making them both moan.
He grinds his hips down, cradling Eddie’s hair in his hands, getting him even stickier and messed up, just for Buck. There’s honey dripping down from the side of Buck’s face onto Eddie’s, and he leans down to lick the honey that’s gathered in his mustache. Eddie gets a firm grip on his hips, slippery though the honey, and pulls him down, down. “Fuck, Eddie,” He gasps out, and Eddie groans underneath him.
“Fuck me.”
Buck freezes, staring down at him. He wants to argue—he should argue, right? He shouldn’t let Eddie—but then the image is in his head again, Eddie covered in honey as he comes around Buck’s cock and—
“Please, Buck, I want it,” Eddie says, eyes chocolate brown and Buck wants to eat him. He groans and agrees, and gets up to reposition them when Eddie stops him. “No, like this. I want to see you.”
Okay, fuck it. Eddie’s going to know anyway the second he sees Buck’s face like this, so he might as well take the final plunge. This whole wild scenario is inevitably going to change their friendship to some degree, so he might as well put all his cards on the table.
“I love you,” He says, looking down at Eddie. And there’s a pause, when his heart is beating out of his chest and his dick is throbbing against Eddie’s and it’s not romantic but it is terrifying, and he’s horny and in love and—
“I love you,” Eddie says back, and he’s glowing, so happy that Buck doesn’t know how he didn’t see it before.
“Thank God.” Buck leans back down to rest his forehead on Eddie’s, feeling delirious. “You’re so wonderful, Eddie, I’ve been going crazy not telling you, I think everybody knows. I swear I wasn’t trying to be obvious but I couldn’t help it and then you show up with that mustache and –”
“You like the mustache?” If anything, Eddie looks impossibly happier at that. “It’s for you.” He leans up to kiss Buck, soft and sweet this time. “It’s all for you, Buck. I want to give you everything.”
They kiss for a while after that, starting off slow and sappy and then ramping up as Buck starts rutting into Eddie’s hip and then Eddie whines impatiently while shoving a handful of honey into Buck’s right hand. “Now, Buck, please.”
So he gets to work Eddie open with his fingers, get him hot and squirming and desperate (please, Buck, I can take it, I swear, I need you, please) and then slide into him, slow and slick and syrupy, while they press their foreheads together and moan into each other’s mouths.
The awful urgency has mostly faded, but it still feels good and Buck can’t help but drink up the delicious noises coming out of Eddie’s mouth as he fucks into him. Eddie’s letting his mouth just hang open now, and Buck sticks two honey covered fingers into it for Eddie to suck clean.
Eddie’s got a hand on his face, gooey fingers trailing over his birthmark with a reverence that makes Buck shiver. Because this whole thing has been absolutely overwhelming in so many ways, but it’s this, the softness, that makes him understand that it’s real, they’re really here, making love and he’s going to get to keep it, keep Eddie, after all.
They’re staring into each other’s eyes, panting I love yous, when Buck comes for the third time, Eddie following him over the edge right after.
"I love you," Eddie says again, and Buck smiles at him, sticky and sated and in love with his best friend.
It’s an hour or so later that they finally get rescued, redressed as best they can, holding hands sitting on the bench.
Buck knows they’re in for the ribbing of a lifetime, but he can’t even pretend to care; he’s never been happier in his whole life.
And all it took was a little nudge from a bee-nado.
Chimney Han changed the group name to Honey Nut Cheerios 🐝 🍯
Buck: fuck off chim
Eddie: Buzz, buzz ;)
Buck: r u honey?
bc ur sweet and thick 🍯 😘
Chim: For fuck’s sake
Chimney Han has left the group
Hen Wilson has left the group
Eddie: I love you
Buck: i love you too:)