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He was seriously considering that maybe he had missed a bit too many therapy sessions this year - that would possibly be the only explanation he had for this.
Then again, just like Athena had said once - no one could be that stupid, but they didn’t know Buck.
To be fair in himself in hindsight, Buck’s curiosity had been gnawing at him for weeks. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen the ad online before, a sponsored post preying on his algorithm given he wasn’t exactly above board kink wise.
He supposed it was better than seeing a constant stream of video games, with Chris’s ability to snatch his phone from him when they were nowhere near a TV, but still, he was the one staring at the screen, his finger hovering over the "add to cart" button as he debated with himself.
He could have been like any normal person and just bought the darn things, passed it off as a gift for Maddie from Chim or worse, but what would he wear them with? A tank top? Absolutely not. His uniform shirt? Don't even think about it.
Sheesh, what’s a half desperate bi guy to do?
He glanced down once again at the package he'd sheepishly accepted from the delivery driver that morning like it was a live bomb, face already a little warm.
At least Eddie would laugh at him if he made a fool of himself and he could backpedal. Or so he hoped.
With a sigh, Buck reaches into the parcel and pulls out the contents. A hoodie, blue and soft, similar to Eddie’s favourite one only without the faint smell of his cologne and that weirdly appealing mix of sweat and adrenaline that clung to him after a long shift (What? He knows his partner, okay?) as well as the other item on the list.
He can barely make eye contact with himself in the bathroom mirror. "I'm gonna look so ridiculous," It comes out almost scolding, as he’s used to sounding to himself, but the corners of his mouth twitch upwards.
Too late to chicken out now.
He quickly stripped down to his briefs from his pyjamas and pick up the hoodie from the fake marble countertop. It's ridiculously soft and definitely a few sizes too big on him, but that was what he had wanted, the sleeves swallowing his hands. He pulls it over his head and watches as the bottom falls to his mid-thigh. Not bad. He takes a second to look in the mirror again, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to smooth it somehow before leaving it.
Now for the main event.
The thigh highs.
The actual thing he ordered.
They’re exactly as he brought them, black and sheer with delicate lace trimmed bands at the top. They feel silky-smooth against his fingertips as he takes them out of the plastic before he sits down on his bed tentatively, a wave of self-consciousness washing over him.
Hesitating for a second, he carefully rolls one of them up his leg, smoothing the fabric as he goes. It’s a strange sensation, a tickle along with a few hairs getting pulled that make him hiss softly, but it’s not the worst thing he’s ever done. He mirrors the action with the other one before standing again, feet feeling strange as he makes a pass in front of a window to look.
He looks…good? He looks kinda…hot, actually.
It’s no surprise after that revelation that he spends a few minutes lost in the mirror, turning this way and that, admiring the way the lace peeks out from beneath the hem of the hoodie. He wants to keep it all for himself, but then his fingers are automatically grabbing his phone, snapping a quick picture of him sitting on the bathroom counter and sending it to Eddie.
Hopefully Chris wasn’t home from school yet. He’s hate to have to explain to the kid his current state of undress.
He watches as the message changes from ‘delivered’ to ‘read’, and then endures the agonising wait as Eddie’s text bubble appears and disappears a few times.
That’s when the self doubt creeped in again from earlier, a voice sounding like himself cussing him out in the back of his head. Maybe he shouldn't have sent it. Maybe it was too much. Maybe Eddie would think he was… well, Eddie already thought he was weird, but not exactly this weird-
His phone pings. He feels his stomach clench.
🔥: Holy shit
He didn’t know if that was good or bad and that made his heart start to beat out of his chest.
🦌: I’m guessing you don’t like it?
The bubble teases him again, appearing and disappearing and not helping his mounting anxiety. All it’s doing is making Buck glare at himself in the mirror, the newfound confidence he’d had moments ago quickly fading. This was ridiculous. He looked ridiculous.
Then there’s another ping. Then another. Then another.
🔥: You can’t send this to me before shift Buck fuck me
🔥: How do those even fit your legs
🔥: Jfc you’re gonna kill me
Oh, really? Buck’s frown suddenly melts into an evil grin and heat floods his cheeks. He reopens the camera and, settling back against the mirror, angles the screen towards his legs as he bends one up. Playfully winking at the lens, he takes a few before selecting the best one and sends the picture to Eddie without hesitation.
Of course, he laughs two seconds later when he gets a string of curse words in response back (and in Spanish no less!) followed by a simple message:
🔥: You're terrible
🦌: C’mon, you know you love it
🔥: I hate you. Seriously
🦌: Okay, I’ll stop sending them then
The not so hidden demand comes in seconds later.
🔥: I’ll actually kill you if you do that
It makes Buck laugh out loud, the sound echoing softly in the quiet apartment, having to calm down before typing back, his fingers flying across the screen and sparks settling in the pit of his stomach.
🦌: Noted ;)