#leothil

Eddie snorts, undoing the hook and bar fasteners, the zipper, stepping out of the charcoal gray pants he was wearing. He doesn't turn around, but he's fully aware of Buck watching him shamelessly, even before the low whistle when he bends over to pick up the blue pants. He flips Buck off over his shoulder and is rewarded with a bright spill of laughter.

"That's a thing, you know. Nudist weddings."

"I think we can probably spare our friends and family that one," Eddie says, tugging the blue pants back on. Buck is right, honestly. They do look better. Nicely fitted, a deep rich color that'll complement the cream-colored shirt he already picked out. They're not doing tuxes for this, but he still wants to look nice. And if Buck (and his wedding clipboard) has a vision for the day, Eddie's going to do his damnedest to make it happen. Even if it means spending an hour in this fitting room trying on every pair of dress pants in the men's section.

"We can save it for the afterparty," Buck agrees, laughing, and pushes himself up to his feet. "Yeah. Those are the ones."

"You think so?"

"Uh huh." Buck settles his hands on Eddie's hips, thumbs brushing the skin above his waistband. In the mirror, Eddie watches him dip his head, press his mouth to Eddie's bare shoulder, then meet his eyes in the reflection. "What do you think?"

"If you like them, I like them."

"Eddie."

Eddie laughs under his breath, leaning back into the solid warmth of Buck's body, watching in the mirror as Buck pulls him closer. There's a shiver of something at that, not quite arousal. Not yet. 

"I like them," he amends.

"Cool," Buck murmurs, dipping his head to kiss him again, dragging his mouth across the hollow of his throat, stubble scraping. "You're gonna look so fucking hot. I don't know how I'm supposed to keep my hands off you the whole time."

"Gonna have to exercise some self control," Eddie says, and Buck nips under his ear, sending a spark of heat down his spine.

"Not very good at that."

"I've noticed."

Buck laughs; his breath is warm. His eyes, when they meet Eddie's in the mirror again, are bright and mischievous. "I don't see you complaining."

"I didn't say I was complaining. It was—" he breaks off as Buck's hands slide lower, palming his ass, then gripping his thighs to pull him closer. He's starting to get hard, painfully obvious in the blue dress pants. When he glances up again, Buck is still watching him. He pulls Eddie closer, grinding against his ass; Eddie can feel the thick heat of his cock. He breathes out shakily. "It was just an observation."

"Uh huh."

"You're not going to fuck me in the fitting room."

"'Course not," Buck says, mouthing another lingering kiss to his throat. His hand drifts lower, palming Eddie's cock. "I don't have any lube on me. Unless you do?"

"No, Buck, I did not bring lube with me to try on wedding clothes," he says, aiming for dry and missing it by a country mile.

"Too bad." His hand moves, lazily, heat and pressure that's enough to make Eddie whine, grinding up into it.

"You're gonna make me ruin these before we even buy them," he manages, even though there's something thrilling about that idea too.

"Can't have that," Buck says, letting go only to unfasten the pants and push them down Eddie's thighs. Eddie doesn't stop him, doesn't point out that this technicality wasn't what he actually meant, because Buck might have no self-control but the truth is Eddie's no better. He steps out of the pants at Buck's direction, watches with fond incredulity as he actually folds them before setting them aside. Then he slips his hands into Eddie's briefs, pushing those down as well, leaving him naked in the cool air.

"Buck," Eddie says, half-admonishing, half pleading. He reaches back to tug on Buck's hair, pulling him until he shifts around enough that Eddie can kiss him, hot and thorough.

"I would marry you just like this," Buck says fervently, and then he sinks to his knees.

Eddie breathes out a curse, bracing his hand against the mirror as Buck mouths at his cock, dragging his lips and tongue down his length and then back up again, making a show of it.

"C'mon," Eddie says, his voice fucking wrecked already. He drops a hand to Buck's head, digs his fingers into the curls, pulling him closer. "C'mon, come on."

Buck makes a low noise, breathless and amused and turned on, and lets Eddie drag him in. Takes him to the root all at once, no fucking around, just heat and suction and his big hands gripping at Eddie's ass, urging him to thrust. The filthy wet sound of his mouth on Eddie's cock fills the dressing room, Eddie choking down moans, only barely able to keep in mind that they're still more or less in public. Buck makes him lose his head like that, a lot. Buck, on his knees, spit dripping down his chin, gazing up at Eddie with hot eyes as he pushes a hand between his legs, fumbling for the zipper of his jeans.

"Yeah, c'mon, touch yourself for me," Eddie pants, and Buck moans around his cock, and he's gone, just like that, fingers twisting tight in Buck's hair as he comes down his throat.

Buck pulls off with a wet gasp, pushes his face against Eddie's thigh, the pace of his hand frantic.

"Come on," Eddie breathes, petting his hair, thumbing at his wet mouth, his cheek. "Come on, look at you, so good, can't believe I get to marry you—"

"Fuck," Buck breathes, shoving his face into the crease of Eddie's thigh, his hand stuttering as he starts to come in pulses over his fingers. He sags against Eddie when he's done, and Eddie pets his hair, listens to him breathe, looks at the picture they both make in the mirror.

Buck's shoulders shake, he worms his messy hand out of his pants and looks at it ruefully. "I don't think I thought the clean-up through very well."

Eddie starts laughing, helplessly, breathless giggles spilling out of him as he sinks to his knees. He kisses Buck's breathless mouth, then takes his hand and sucks his come-sticky fingers into his mouth.

"Oh, fuck," Buck mumbles, shuddering, his head thumping against Eddie's shoulder. "You're gonna kill me."