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“3…2…1… Happy new year!”
Buck is too many beers deep for things like ‘counting’ or speaking’ - he had definitely said four at least six times while counting down from ten - but kissing Eddie was as easy as breathing.
They were in a new bar, at a thriving New Year’s Eve party, surrounded by their friends and family, and Buck felt full of golden light at the taste of Eddie’s lips on his. They had only gotten together a few days ago, both of them coming to their senses after Christopher had come home. There had been a dramatic confession in Eddie’s kitchen, and kissing so passionate that Eddie had sent a pile of plates crashing to the floor, which in turn led to Christopher interrupting.
This had become a pattern, in the week since they’d gotten together. Like a cruel god had cursed their happiness as soon as they had found it, every time they tried to do more than kiss, they were immediately interrupted.
After their first two attempts, they were terrified to try anything while Chris was home. He’d already been scarred once, and they daren’t risk doing it again - or, at least, that’s what Christopher had said. He was thrilled that Buck and Eddie had ‘finally gotten their shit together,’ though - again, his words.
There had been an ill-advised attempt at seduction in the storage closet at work, which almost led to a terrifying run-in with HR if anyone other than Chimney had discovered them. Luckily, they’d gotten away with their only punishment being paying for everyone’s drinks tonight.
Buck is floating on air, the lights and the music giving him a persistent thrum of energy, the feeling of Eddie beneath his hands keeping him grounded.
They make out for slightly longer than is socially acceptable and with quite a bit more tongue, and maybe some heavy petting, but eventually they pull apart. There’s only so long you can kiss while your coworkers are yelling at you.
Eddie looks at him with hazed, hooded eyes, and he can feel between them that joy at the certainty that they would be kissing again, and soon. Chris was at his own New Year’s party, which meant the house would be empty when they got home…
“Someone get me a bucket.” Chimney complains. “I’m gonna throw up.”
“Is that because of the vodka shots or the lovebirds over there?” Hen jokes.
“I don’t ever want to hear Eddie make that sound again.” He shoots back.
Maddie is laughing, but she does seem genuinely concerned that Chimney might actually vomit, so calls an Uber to pick them up.
Hen and Karen are giving each other a significant look as Buck loses himself staring at Eddie again. He could look forever, and always feel like he was finding something new. An explorer, discovering hidden treasure in the form of the mole beneath Eddie’s eye, or the perfect slope of his nose, or the way his teeth were perfectly formed for biting into Buck’s neck.
“Okay, well. We’re going to go.” Hen says, holding Karen’s hand as they leave. “Don’t break any indecency laws, guys.” They exchange goodbyes, and then it’s just Buck and Eddie, left alone, together.
Buck leans in to kiss Eddie again, relishing in the freedom of not having an audience for once. Before he can do it, though, Eddie’s hand is over his mouth, keeping him at bay. “Buck. We should go home.”
“Why do you have to be the responsible one?” Buck says, but the words mostly leave his mouth in an incomprehensible jumble. Then he lights up, as if he has just had the most incredible idea in the world. “Let’s do jelly shots!”
He’s already stumbling out of the booth when Eddie yanks him back, Buck ending up sprawled in his lap. All thoughts of anything other than his boyfriend vanish from his mind at the feeling of Eddie beneath him. The feeling of Eddie beneath him.
He smirks. “Oh, I see why you want to leave so quickly.”
“Buck.” Eddie gives him a warning, but Buck is already sliding down to the hard floor, secreting himself beneath the table.
“Nobody's looking,” Buck says, eyes looking up at Eddie. His warm hands land on Eddie's thighs, pulling him in closer.
He leans his head until his lips are almost touching the bulge in Eddie's trousers, his shallow breaths ghosting over it. Eddie shivers, relaxing back into his seat.
They were lucky to be in a booth, tucked back in a corner of the bar on a fairly busy night when everyone else truly was too drunk to be thinking about their surroundings.
Buck can see the wheels slowly turning in Eddie's mind, the pros and cons list of letting Buck blow him in public. As he thinks, his hand tightens in Buck's hair, drawing a moan from him that is barely hidden by the loud music of the bar.
That's enough to push them both into action, the simmering tension evaporating as Buck's face is pulled into Eddie's crotch. The rough denim of Eddie's jeans grazes his chin. As Eddie smooths a finger over his cheek, Buck cannot help but think how much he loves this man. How much his adoration leaks out of every fibre of his being - in this case, literally. His own cock is straining his pants, begging for any relief.
Even with his drunk coordination, he's able to teasingly, tantalizingly undo Eddie's zipper with his mouth, taking the zip between his teeth and pulling so slowly, so gently. Eddie's gaze is dumbstruck, lovestruck. His patience, however, is waning, so he quickly frees himself from his boxers. “Stop teasing.” He tries to sound firm, but there's a distinct whine in his voice that Buck wants to hear over and over.
“Make me,” he says, looking up at Eddie, all blue eyes and false innocence. Buck presses a soft kiss to the head, licks at the small bead of precut. He can't see himself, but he can feel himself smiling like the cat that got the cream.
Eddie gasps at the sensation, his grip on Buck's hair growing firmer and firmer. He grabs on to the back of Buck's head, finally forcing him to take his cock.
At the sound of Buck's choking, he immediately lets go, hands fluttering in concern. Drunk and in public probably isn't the best time to be discussing preferences, but Buck wants this to be as quick and dirty as their environment demands. He wants to be used . To be of service.
It's also been a week of pent up longing and failed attempts. They're both sexually frustrated as hell.
Buck doesn't speak, just dives back in, pushing his head down until he almost can't breathe, until he finds himself on the knife's edge of panic and desire that drives him closer to oblivion. With every hitch of Eddie's breath, every whine, every strand of his hair pulled and twisted by Eddie's deft fingers, he loses himself more and more.
“Good- Good boy,” Eddie pants out. He forces Buck to make eye contact with him - Buck hadn't even realized his eyes had fallen shut, giving in completely to the symphony of Eddie's pleasure. His cock jerks at the words, licking Eddie's shaft with renewed vigor.
It's a good thing that Buck's mouth is otherwise occupied, because even the muffled moans and hums are loud enough to draw attention, should the music ever stop or the conversations around them ever lull.
Buck can barely even feel the ache in his knees from the sticky, wooden floor, nor the cramp in his bad leg. He just lets Eddie's hands guide him, control him, into giving Eddie what he needs.
“You're so fucking hot like this, Buck.” Eddie's voice is breathy and gently, a stark contrast to the firm grips on Buck's head as he starts to fuck into his mouth. “So desperate for me. You'd do anything I wanted, wouldn't you?”
Buck can't nod, can't speak, but his whole being is shouting yes, yes, yes over and over again.
“Buck-” Eddie gasps. “I'm going-”
He's interrupted by a waitress swinging by the table to clear up glasses. Buck stills.
“Who're you talking to?” The waitress asks, and Buck is screaming at her to just mind her own business.
He draws himself back slightly, holding the head gently in his mouth, sucking and licking as Eddie stutters his way through a conversation.
It feels like the whole bar is silent at the moment Eddie comes, though that might just be the echoing in his own ears. Buck hadn't noticed how close he himself had become, hand grinding down against his neglected dick as he swallows everything Eddie gives him.He licks up the shaft and cleans him before tucking Eddie's dick back into his pants and zipping him up.
He has to lean his head against Eddie’s knee, huffing deep breaths as he grinds against his palm. It won’t take much, but the pressure can’t quite satisfy him, so he leans up against Eddie’s leg, sliding himself up and down. Eddie’s slides two fingers into his mouth in lieu of his dick, and that, combined with the pleasure and humiliation of humping Eddie’s leg like a dog is enough to send him dancing over the edge.
“Fuck,” he gasps, body immediately turning to jelly.
At that moment, he sees a head look beneath the table. He jumps, banging his head into the table.
“Oh my god.” She says. “You need to leave.”
Buck climbs out from under the table, sheepish.
“We're normal men.” Eddie slurs.
"What do you mean you're 'normal men'?!"
“We're just normal men. We're just innocent men.” Eddie keeps going.
“Okay, well, you ‘innocent’ men need to go before I call the cops on your ass. And you better tip.” She stalks off, shaking her head in exasperation.
“Are you okay? How's your head?” Eddie asks, and Buck hums in pleasure as those hands return to Buck's scalp. He winces as Eddie touches a tender spot.
“Haven't had any complaints.” He jokes.
Eddie rolls his eyes, helping him up. They're both unsteady on their feet, leaning against each other like they're the only thing keeping either of them upright. “You're such an idiot.”
“ You're an idiot. But it's okay. I still love you.” Buck says, his face in Eddie's neck. He can feel Eddie stiffen beneath him, registering the words.
“You love me, huh?” When Buck lifts his head, he sees a smile on Eddie's face that he's never seen before. Part wonder, part disbelief, but all love.
“Yeah.” Buck says. “Yeah, I really do. I meant it, you know. I'd do anything for you.”
He feels sober, suddenly, at the gravity of the confession. The truth that he has silently carried for years.
“I love you, too, Buck.” They nuzzle together as they make their way to the bar to pay their tab. “Oh, wait, you have a little…” Eddie swipes a finger beneath Buck's lip. Without thinking, Buck takes it into his mouth, licking up the last drop of cum. “You're going to fucking kill me.”
“I'm going to fucking kill you if you don't leave. ” The waitress is tapping her fingers on the bar, glaring at them as they finally pay their very expensive tab with a very healthy tip and promise to not come back.
Well. At least it isn't their usual bar and ladder joint.
The wet patch on Buck's pants is turning uncomfortable as they wait outside for their Uber. He shifts awkwardly, hoping Eddie won't notice, but he's never been lucky.
Eddie glances at him, doing a double take once he spots it. His smile turns leering. “I can't believe you came in your pants.”
“Shut up, it's so embarrassing.” Buck holds his hands to shield the wet spot from the world, finally showing a degree of care to the concept of public decency.
Eddie crowds him against the wall, leaning right in until their lips are almost touching. “It's so fucking hot.” They kiss, and it is searing. Buck thinks he could die just from this kiss, and he would be happy. “I love you so much. You're my miracle.”
An angry honk interrupts them. “When we get home, I'm going to ruin you.” Eddie hums, and they're the most romantic words Buck has ever heard.
“Maybe I'll ruin you,” Buck smirks as they get into the Uber.
As the drive goes on, though, Buck feels his eyes drift from the rhythmic movement of the car. His head falls onto Eddie's shoulder, and he doesn't even register the moment he falls asleep.
He just knows that he'll get to wake up in Eddie's bed, in Eddie's arms, and they might finally. Finally. Get to fuck.
He has never been happier.