Eddie’s voice cuts through the gentle hiss of rain against the windows and the soft staticky music leaking from the small radio perched next to the fridge.Â
Buck lifts his head from where it had been resting on his folded arms, blearily searching the now dark kitchen for his husband. He can feel the beginnings of a headache pounding in his temples and his mouth feels like he swallowed sand.Â
“Wha– what time is it?” Buck asks, throat clicking as he tries to rewet his mouth.Â
Scrubbing his hands over his face, Buck twists in his kitchen chair to look at the clock hanging on the wall. It takes him a moment to read the small numbers, but when he does finally manage it he’s surprised to see how late it is. He had planned to already have dinner ready, but the remnants of half completed prep is strewn around the countertops. Halfway through preparing the food, Buck had to sit down at the kitchen table — the ache in his leg becoming too persistent to ignore. Â
“It’s time for you to go to bed,” Eddie hums, smoothing a warm palm across Buck's shoulders. Buck leans into the contact, shifting toward Eddie’s warmth like a sunflower seeking the sun.Â
“Mm— not tired,” Buck mumbles, tilting his head up for a kiss.Â
Eddie complies with the request, easily planting one against Buck’s lips before asking, “oh really? Why were you sleeping on the table then?”Â
Buck sags, knee and hip twinging as if to remind him why. “I was just resting.”Â
Calloused fingers card through his probably wildly unkempt curls, and Buck finds him sinking more and more against the solid warmth of Eddie pressed against him. Just when he thinks he could actually nod off like this, Eddie breaks the silence.Â
“Is your leg bothering you?”Â
Biting his lip, Buck sighs as he spins his wedding band around his finger. The warm metal glints in the lowlight of the hall light filtering into the kitchen. There are more days than not that his leg ends up bothering him. But that’s to be expected when he had fallen through the floor of a burning warehouse and landed on his previously crushed leg. Today is just particularly bad.Â
Buck had known it was coming, had woken up with the telltale stiffness in his joints. But he had ignored it, not bothering to do any of the stretches his PT had taught him, hoping to muscle through like he used to be able to do. He knows that was stupid of him. There’s a small curl of embarrassment settling in his belly, and he debates not telling Eddie. He doesn’t even have a good reason he can provide for why he didn’t do anything. Not one he can articulate at least.Â
In the end, he decides he doesn’t like lying to Eddie, even by omission. “Yeah, it is.”Â
“Did you do your stretches?”Â
Buck’s silence is answer enough and Eddie nods to himself. “Okay, c’mere.”Â
Eddie gets a big hand wrapped around Buck’s bicep and helps him stand from the kitchen chair. Buck goes willingly, letting Eddie pull him up and into his arms.Â
At first, he thinks they’re just embracing, and he’s not complaining about it, soaking up all the heat radiating off of his husband. Then Eddie starts rearranging Buck’s arms, getting them loosely looped around his neck before Eddie’s palms slide to Buck’s waist, holding him gently.Â
The music coming from the radio is low, too low for Buck to identify the song that’s playing. But he can hear enough to realize that Eddie is moving them in a slow shuffling rhythm around the kitchen that matches the staticky rhythm humming through tinny speakers.Â
“Babe, what are you doing?”Â
“Dancing— we’re dancing,” Eddie replies, swaying their bodies together as they rock side to side.Â
Buck shoots Eddie an incredulous look, but he just leans forward and kisses it off Buck’s face. “We can do your stretches instead, if you would like?”Â
With a laugh, Buck shakes his head fondly. “You’re ridiculous,” he mutters, but continues to follow Eddie’s lead, letting himself be slowly spun around the kitchen.Â
It helps. The ache doesn’t leave him entirely, but the stiffness slowly bleeds from his joints — the slow gentle movements of their “dancing” and the warmth of Eddie helping to ease the persistent discomfort.Â
Gradually, Buck finds himself relaxing, allowing more of his weight to settle on his husband. Eddie accepts it gracefully, a pillar of strength against Buck.Â
“There you go, baby,” Eddie murmurs, pressing a kiss to Buck’s temple.Â
Tucking his head into the hollow of Eddie’s throat, Buck sighs out, “thank you.”Â
“Always,” Eddie says as if it’s just that easy.Â
Maybe it is.Â
send me a soft prompt and I'll write a little something!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
âś“ Live Streamingâś“ Interactive Chatâś“ Private Showsâś“ HD Qualityâś“ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
this fic is swinging between being wildly kinky and wildly sappy, so have some of the sap :3
“I ordered sushi from your favourite place,” Eddie says. “Figured it would be easier in case I had to hand feed you.”
The gentle tease in Eddie’s tone makes Buck feel warm all over. “Thank you, sir. You thought of everything.”
A veritable feast of sushi rolls are presented to Buck’s mouth. Eddie even dips the rolls in soy sauce, making a mess of his fingers in the process. He alternates between feeding Buck and eating himself, occasionally offering Buck a piece of ginger to clear his palate. Buck always enjoys when they get takeout from this place but the food tastes even better today. Or maybe anything would taste amazing as long as Eddie was lovingly feeding it to him.
After the last roll is placed in Buck’s mouth, Buck oh so helpfully sucks on Eddie’s fingers, swirling his tongue around them to get them clean.Â
Eddie groans quietly in his ear. “Good boy, Buck.”
Smiling to himself, Buck snuggles even further back against Eddie’s chest as he continues to lick at Eddie’s fingers. Eddie’s other arm wraps around Buck’s torso to hold him close. Buck can feel Eddie getting hard again, his dick starting to press insistently against Buck’s ass through the thin sweatpants. Idylly, Buck wonders just how much of his come Eddie’s planning on plugging inside him today. He shifts his hips experimentally, grinning when he feels Eddie tense behind him.
“Give a guy a minute,” Eddie chuckles.
Omg “buck and Bobby hug” wip? -@try-set-me-on-fire
i love this one <3 post lightning strike buck suffers maybe just a smidgen of separation anxiety. On a call Bobby gets hurt (not bad) and ends up in the hospital to get checked out and no one tells buck because they don't want to stress him out. Spoiler alert: it stresses him out.
Bobby is probably just busy at work. Maybe he’s busy at a scene, or maybe he’s just caught up in some paperwork and not looking at his phone. Yeah…yeah. That has to be it, that’s why Bobby isn’t texting him back.Â
Buck stares at the black screen, chewing his lip. Bobby is busy and he doesn’t need Buck bothering him.Â
He picks up his phone, swiping it open — the screen still filled with his text message thread with Bobby. The string of
unanswered texts makes an uncomfortable feeling prickle in the back of his throat.
send me the title of a wip and i'll tell you about it!
5 for secret dating fallout, from a different scene than the previous snippets:
"I'm not on anyone's side," Maddie insisted. "All I'm saying is, I can see where he's coming from. This is a huge secret that you kept for weeks."
"Oh, hold on," Buck said, eyes narrow, "I see what this really is. It's not about the call at all; you're just mad that I didn't tell you."
Phone calls for the soft prompts? - @try-set-me-on-fire
today isn’t today anymore
(1202 words, rated t, set in s6 probably)
Eddie should probably be asleep by now, and though that’s true of Buck too, there’s not much Eddie will be able to say about the late-night phone call he’s about to answer as long as he’s still standing in the middle of his kitchen, a few excuses on the tip of his tongue just in case Buck asks him to provide one. He glances down at the shot of tequila he’s just poured – the cheapest available shit he can manage to swallow – and he takes a deep breath, the liquor remaining untouched for now.
“You’ve called me three other times today, texted me more often than I could count, and we had dinner with Chris like five hours ago,” Eddie says in lieu of a hello, his failed eye roll forgiven by the dim light he’s left on. “You can’t possibly have anything new to say now.”
Buck snorts. “Except that today isn’t today anymore. Today is tomorrow, so this is the first time we’ve spoken on this today, and we haven’t seen each other since last night. I’ve got plenty to say to you.”
It’s all true, Eddie supposes. The moment his phone had rattled against the kitchen counter, Eddie had known what time it was, Buck’s name across the screen a wholly unnecessary detail, and Eddie’s too tired to argue that one minute past midnight is not notably different from one minute before. Buck wouldn’t let him win that fight tonight anyway.
“Why are you still awake? We’re supposed to be at work early tomorrow for a cross-shift briefing.”
“Early today,” Buck corrects, his smile so damn loud just before he gets quiet. “And you know why.”
Eddie’s fingertip traces the rim of the shot glass, and he sighs. “I do.”
“You okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because you’re staring down at a shot of terrible tequila and thinking too much about things you can’t change,” Buck says.
“How do you know that?”
“You told me about it last year.”
“Ah, yes,” Eddie huffs. “Wonder why I did that.”
“Because you tell me everything.”
He really doesn’t though, and maybe that’s what Eddie’s thinking about tonight more than anything else. Last year, Eddie might’ve shared the story of a tradition he’d started with Shannon when they were 18 and stupid, but now he’s 30 and a coward, and he’s already breathless at the idea of confessing to Buck how much he wants this tradition to change.
“If you were—” Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose and thinks Buck must be able to picture it in the pause. “You’d drink this terrible tequila with me tonight, wouldn’t you?”
“There is shockingly little I wouldn’t do with you,” Buck admits, his voice still low. Eddie considers picking up the glass now, but he’s pretty sure something would spill over with the way he shakes. “You probably wouldn’t even have to ask.”
“I would though—have to ask. Otherwise you might never know what I want.”
Buck’s far too observant for Eddie to hope he can’t hear how Eddie struggles to form those words, everything made sluggish by the weight of the questions he keeps on his tongue, but maybe Buck’s as patient after midnight as Eddie is honest. Or he’s just offering Eddie a gift when he lets it go.
“You can take the shot now, while I’m still on the phone with you,” Buck suggests.
“And then we’ll go to sleep?”
“Well, I don’t know about that. I still haven’t said what I called to say.”
“No, I guess you haven’t,” Eddie agrees. “You gonna do that soon?”
“You gonna drink?”
“I don’t know.”
“I could come over, you know. It’s not that late.”
“Of course it’s not. Late would’ve been last night. Now at – what, 12:03am? – it’s just really, really early.”
“Oh, wow, listen to this asshole,” Buck murmurs. “Someone got mighty cocky once he figured out how time works.”
“Mmmm, yeah, but you love me though.”
And that’s—it’s too much in the silence that follows, the taunting echo of something Eddie hadn’t meant to say, maybe for the second time since Buck called and caught him dizzied by both the past and the future. It doesn’t matter how easily they could laugh it off, because Eddie already knows neither one of them will – not now, when their patience and honesty will be chased by cheap tequila while Eddie wishes it could be the other way around.
Eddie touches the shot glass again.
“My offer stands,” Buck tells him.
“You don’t have to come over.”
“You’re right. I don’t.”
“But you won’t hang up without saying it, will you?”
“Not a fucking chance,” Buck promises.
Eddie finally picks up the glass and throws the shot back – no lime or salt to soften the blow because he and Shannon hadn’t thought to be prepared with either or both all those years ago – and he thinks the tears in his eyes could be from any of a dozen different things.
“Buck—" Eddie shakes his head, unable to figure out how his own sentence is supposed to end. I want you to come over tonight or today or for all of my midnights. I want you to take a shot with me next year because I’m tired of doing it alone. I want you to taste this one on me now because sometimes I think I haven’t been alone for a while. I want, I want, I want…
“Hey, it’s okay, we’re both tired and we can—”
“No,” Eddie whispers.
How that’s enough to cut Buck off, Eddie isn’t sure, but the quiet between them lingers for several seconds before a knock at Eddie’s front door is louder through the phone than it can be from a couple of rooms away, and if a tear falls when he realizes what’s happening, Eddie doesn’t stop to catch it. He hurries down the hall and unlocks the door faster than he’s done in a while, and he finds Buck leaning there, sleepy and shy and perfect.
“You probably wouldn’t even have to ask,” Buck says again, stepping forward just in time for Eddie to stumble into him, his sigh of relief pressed into Buck’s neck.
“But why—the whole time? You’re not here for—”
“The kind of god-awful tequila a couple of teenagers once drank behind their parents’ backs? Nah, I’m just here for you – and because there’s still something I have to say.”
“Ah, yes, the whole reason you called,” Eddie breathes. “It’s taken you a really long time to get there.”
Buck laughs into Eddie’s hair and pushes them far enough into the house to close the door behind them, pulling away only to lift his phone back up to his ear and nod for Eddie to do the same. It’s dark where they stand, but Buck is beautiful, and maybe Eddie will call just to tell him that someday, slow now as he looks down at the phone in his hand.
“Come on,” Buck says, ducking his head like there’s anything to hide. “I swore I wouldn’t hang up too soon.”
And at that, Eddie can only smile as he returns to their call. “Hi, Buck.”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
âś“ Live Streamingâś“ Interactive Chatâś“ Private Showsâś“ HD Qualityâś“ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
