love koh saying the cruelest thing he can think of to jira, watching him leave, and then calling to set up a cab before jira can even finish riding the elevator down. love jira trying halfheartedly to refuse and not even making it far enough to need to turn around before sitting right down to wait. love pheem stalking off rejected and then barely needing to be prodded to pick up jira's call. loser4loser4loser forever!!
I starve without you on my lips, I die without the taste of it.
Or: Buck sad pathetic jerking it on Eddie's couch post-shooting to stop his brain from catastrophizing. He's mostly successful.
Warnings for descriptions of blood and a mention of self harm. And that Buck is generally being a freak.
Buck's been staying at Eddie's house for about a week and it's- well it's been fine. Really. Being around Eddie when he's all soft and bleary from just waking up, or helping him put his shirt on, or when Buck sits outside the bathroom while Eddie showers in case he needs help. He likes it, the helping and seeing Eddie aspect of it. He likes being able to see that Eddie is okay and that Buck can do something for him while one arm is out of commission. really it's the least he could do to be here because he couldn't even stop eddie from getting shot. he just stood there and watched.
So now he's face down on Eddie’s couch and he’s lost the fight against crying. Eddie took Chris out somewhere that Buck can’t even remember anymore because just a few minutes after they left he couldn’t stop thinking about something bad happening to them and how he wouldn’t be there. He’s always there when something happens, that’s what he does. Even if he isn't useful enough to actually help them, he’s there with them and they’ve always come out fine. What if this time he isn’t there, and it's the one time they dont come back?
But, he's kept Eddie safe before. Even without being right next to him. He’s been good by keeping part of Eddie safe so Eddie can't actually die, Buck would've known when he was covered in Eddie's blood if he died. Because he had Eddie all over him. Had Eddie inside of him. He just- just needs to get back to that state of mind. To make sure Eddie is safe.
He remembers how it felt on his face. Eddie's blood drying in his eyelashes, dripping into his mouth. He licks his lips trying to chase the feeling but only feels his snot and his tears. Close, but not enough for him to feel like its enough. There has to be something else, something better, and, well Buck isn't about to make himself bleed, he's aware enough to know that wouldn’t be very safe. But, there might be something else.
So its perfectly reasonable that now he’s on the couch, fully clothed, with his hand down his pants jacking off into his cupped hand. He’s makinf sure Eddie is safe and that he can stop worrying that something bad is going to happen while he's out in public without Buck.
When he raises his hand to swipe the mess cupped in his hand across his face, hes remembering how it felt to only have Eddie’s blood as a lifeline. After he went past the doors and Buck couldn't follow. It isn't his own mess on his face, it's Eddie's. Heavy on his hand and dripping slowly down into his mouth as he tries to keep all the blood bubbling out of Eddie's chest from spilling out into the ambulance.
This stickiness coating his hands. He wants it, wants to have it, wants to make sure he can always keep this with him. If a part of Eddie is inside of him then he can keep Eddie safe. He's leaked so much into his boxers around his hand while he was caught in the feeling, so he scoops the mess out and pulls out his hand up to his face again. It's sticky, and coated with his precum from where he's been leaking desperately. His eyes close and spread more of it on his face. Over his lips, around his eyelids, all the way up and into his hair. He presses it into his skin where can still feel the hot burning splash of Eddie's blood. He feels it stick his eyelashes together and his shoulders relax. When it drips down into his mouth and pools on his tongue, his jaw unclenches. And when he swallows, he tastes Eddie.
The taste blooms on his tongue somehow both salty-bitter and iron-rust. Mixing between memory and reality. Buck can keep this with him as a reminder, even if he has nothing else. Eddie is safe, Eddie is here. He wants his mouth sticky and stained with it forever. The taste of Eddie's blood is just as overwhelming as he remembers it being. He can feel where his fresh tears are mixing with the mess on his face, but they're not because he's sad or afraid anymore. Why would he be? He finally knows that Eddie is safe here with him. All he's feeling is relief.
He scoops his fingers between himself and the couch cushion collecting his mess again. He pushes those fingers and the mess collected on them down his throat safe inside of himself. The relief is overwhelming, he can keep this part of him safe even if they're apart. Eddie will come back home to him because now he has Eddie inside of him.
The idea of Eddie coming back, seeing him on the couch, and walking over to touch his shoulder and fit his thumb right where it belongs flashes so clearly in Buck’s mind. How Eddie would just know that Buck had to do this. Why he was doing it, and that he would be grateful. How he would say that Buck did good. How he would take Buck’s fingers out of his throat where he's been suckling on them, and replace them with his own.
The thought makes his stomach clench and cock twitch as he shoves his fingers further in- but they aren't his own fingers anymore. He chokes on Eddie's fingers and he cums in his pants on his best friend's couch with a mess all over his face, fingers down his throat, and the taste of iron on his tongue. Ruining the couch even more than he had gotten it before. He pulls his fingers out and sees a string of his spit and his pre connecting his lips to his hand. He licks all of it up to keep as much of it as he can.
He knows he should clean up, and probably make sure he actually didn't completely ruin the couch- hey he sleeps on this thing!- but he can barely even think through the echo of Eddie saying, “You did good, bud,” circulating his mind and clouding his thoughts. Eventually the stickiness of his face and the mess in his boxers becomes more annoying than comforting. He peels himself off of the couch where he's almost glued himself down to it- he will have to get that out before Eddie gets back- and heads to the bathroom to clean himself up.
When Buck looks in the mirror, he isn't covered in that dark, staining red the way he remembers from that hospital bathroom. But, he almost wishes that he was. that he could be without any of the fear or the uncertainty over Eddie's safety. It feels good to be covered like this, like he's been marked almost. That he's been claimed. That he can know Eddie is safe because they’re irreversibly inside of each other. His whole body gets warm at the thought.
He forces his head away from the mirror and makes sure the shower is as hot as it’ll go. Strips himself and washes off, hands almost reverent where he touches the sticky splotches covering his body and promises himself he won't think about this again.
