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Summary
Buck's plan for the evening is simple: eat calzones with Eddie, pretend he's not in love with his best friend, and absolutely never think about one desperate night he hooked up with Tommy in Eddie's house, and the conversation they had the morning after in Eddie's kitchen while Eddie was in El Paso.
Then Eddie mentions a missed call. And a voicemail. And a text from Tommy asking if Eddie thinks he's "competition."
Before Buck can spiral, Eddie holds out his hand for Buck's phone, finds Tommy's still-blocked number, and calls him back himself. What follows is ten minutes of calm, surgical destruction: Eddie dismantling Tommy's ego, burning every bridge, and saying things like "You call that competition? You were never in the fucking race," and "I left him behind and he was still fucking mine."
Buck's pressed against the corner of the kitchen, half-hard and fully in shock, because they aren't even dating.
Yet.
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“I’m a normal size.”
“No,” Buck says, insistent. “It’s— it’s thick, Eddie. Like— a real handful thick.”
Eddie ducks his head, swallowing hard. “I’m a— grower. By your definition. It gets bigger.”
Buck is still staring at him. Eddie does not look back. “Like an inch bigger?”
Grabbing his beer from the table, Eddie takes the last sip, hoping the chill of it will be some kind of cool balm over the flames within. It doesn’t help much. Quietly, he answers, “More.”
Buck gasps, loud and theatrical. “More?”
“Yes. Alright?” Eddie says tightly, his body flushes hotly. “More.”
A long second ticks by.
Abruptly and a little loudly, Buck asks, “Eddie, how big is your cock?”
Or: Buck finds out Eddie is hung. Seriously hung. This is mindblowing information to possess, apparently.
Series
- Part 17 of cjo + 911
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“T-There was a flower,” Buck whispers, and his head drops back with a little moan that floats from his cocked-open, swollen lips. Buck’s hand skirts down his flushed belly, dips through streaks of wet and half-dried patches of cum, and wraps a quivering hand around himself. Eddie chokes. “O-On the hike, I saw it, an-and, I was like, s’so p-pretty,” Buck moans, and his eyes peel open, baby blue eyes alight with lust.
“So… So I crouched down to ge-get a better look, and I—fu-u-uck—to-touched a little dew droplet on the edge of one of the petals,” Buck’s voice breaks off into a soft sob, hand working up and down his cock, slick precum blurting out the flushed slit. Buck’s hand encases his cock perfectly, thumb brushing the underside of his head, and squeezing his base. It’s messy, and a bit frantic, and Eddie feels very, very parched.
He can’t drag his eyes from Buck.
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or; can we still call it platonic if you fuck your best friend for the first time to keep him from dying because he touched an unknown flower and got laced with fuck or die sex pollen?Series
- Part 55 of buddie by tired
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Of Magic, Mistakes and Making it Work by Beware_The_Tristero for Tahlruil
Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel
14 Jan 2017
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To my most beloved giftee! : )
I took one of your awesome prompts and put my characteristic spin on it : 3
In what should have been just another Thursday for the Avengers and their all consuming battle against the forces who would harm them and their world, a not so usual battle with the Thor obsessed Amora spells (ha... see what I did there?) disaster for Captain America and the Avengers Family...
However, as fate (and a certain genius, billionaire, former play-boy, philanthropist omega) would have it, all is not lost; in fact, there may be so much more to gain if a certain love-struck alpha and adorable baby have anything to say about it.
Series
- Part 1 of The Re-Raising of Steve
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Summary
Eddie: why would I want to take time off from my job when I get to go to work with my best friend everyday?
Buck: aww 🥰
Eddie: I'm gonna miss Hen so much
Buck: FUCK U FRFR
~
or, Eddie sprains his wrist on a call and has to go on medical leave for 2 weeks, in the interim, he and Buck text non stop