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Eddie’s boots hit the ground with an urgent thud, waves of heat rolling over his face from the inferno engulfing the building.
“We got one trapped on the first floor of the house, you know the drill! Two in, two out!” shouted Captain Nash to the crew assembled outside, but Eddie and Buck were already sprinting to the entryway.
“Let’s go, Buck!” barked Eddie, forcing his voice through the chaos of the flames and rising screams of bystanders. The familiar comfort of Buck’s presence settled as they approached the building, Buck dashing half a step in front.
Buck was the first through the wall of fire engulfing the doorway, leaping flaming debris to check rooms choked thick with smoke. Eddie veered toward the living room and spotted her, unconscious on the floor, legs crushed under a fallen column. He bolted to her side, instinctively reaching to lift the column off of her, heat searing his hands even through his gloves as he touched the thick broken wood, muscles coiling tight as he tried to lift.
“Buck! Here!” Eddie’s breath ripped out of him as he strained, back screaming, arms shaking as he attempted to lift the beam.
He yanked up with full effort, raising it barely an inch before it crashed downward, unmoved. His breath grew ragged as he attempted again, futilely fighting to lift as the flames closed in around them.
Buck’s hand clamped down on Eddie’s shoulder, steadying him. Their eyes met for half a second before Buck shouted “I got this, be ready to grab her!”
Buck set his feet wide, dropping into a low squat as his gloves wrapped around the charred wood. Eddie could see the strain on Buck’s face, jaw tightening as he dug into the weight.
It was slow at first, seconds stretching as the flames crept higher around them, crackling intensifying, louder with every moment. The muscles of Buck’s shoulders and arms bulged as he heaved upward, sweat cutting through the soot on his face.
Eddie’s eyes rapidly flicked between Buck and the trapped woman, poised to wrench her free the moment he could. He watched in awe as Buck powered through, the strain on his face unmistakable but unwavering.
With a raw grunt and one final heave, Buck lifted the beam high enough.
“I’ve got her!” Eddie shouted, diving forward.
He pulled her legs clear, heaved her onto his shoulders, her weight a welcome relief compared to the crushing desperation seconds before. Buck let the beam fall with a violent crash. No hesitation. He was instantly at Eddie’s back as they sprinted through the fire, the hallway collapsing around them, flames reaching past their heels.
They burst out into the street, smoke tearing from their lungs as Eddie cut through the crowd, sprinting straight toward Hen’s waiting gurney.
“Unconscious, breathing’s compromised” he panted, carefully lowering the woman. Hen already had two fingers pressed to her neck, other hand deftly securing the oxygen mask into place.
“Pulse is weak. I got it from here,” Hen said, voice steady enough to re-center Eddie as he spun back to where Buck had been.
Buck was a few feet away, hands braced on his knees, chest heaving as he sucked in air. His turnout coat was streaked with ash, rising and falling with his shoulders as he pulled in deep, ragged breaths. For a beat Eddie just stared, quiet astonishment and something heavier that made his lungs twist. Probably the smoke, he waved off with a thought.
Buck looked up, meeting Eddie’s eyes through the haze. Despite the exhaustion, he managed a crooked grin and lifted one hand to give Eddie a shaky thumbs-up. Eddie felt his breath catch. Relief, gratitude, and something else sinking low and hot in his chest.
Buck had just hauled a column Eddie couldn’t budge, had pushed past limits Eddie was all too aware they share. Shared. Buck had changed. And apparently Eddie was only just starting to notice it.
The sharp clang of metal echoed through the firehouse gym, the familiar rhythm of weights and controlled breaths grounding Eddie after the chaos. His lungs drew deep, steady breaths as the day’s adrenaline had faded into a low hum. He wiped the thin sheen of sweat from his temple as he finished his set, turning his head just enough to notice Buck.
Buck was at the bench press, muscles working beneath his navy T-shirt in a way Eddie hadn’t really registered before. His chest expanded with each lift, the pecs flexing in smooth, solid arcs, shoulders rounded and powerful, biceps bulging as he gripped the bar tight. Sure, Buck had always been strong, it was practically a requirement for the job. But this? This was different. His lanky frame had given way to shoulders that looked broader, chest fuller, the fabric stretched across his muscles in ways that made Eddie’s throat go dry.
He had only been in El Paso for a few months before rejoining the 118. When had this happened?
Eddie watched as Buck stood to stack the bar with as many 45lb weights as it could handle with a casual grin that somehow hadn’t changed since their first meeting. It was that same easy smile that made people feel safe in the aftermath of an emergency. But the body behind it, solid and powerful, was new. The shirt clung to the curve of his chest, tracing the striations of muscle across his torso, stretching tight and lifting to reveal a small peak at the defined contour of his abs. When they first met, Eddie would’ve ribbed him about over-stacking the bar out of a misplaced sense of competition. Now, he couldn’t seem to look away.
“You got a sec to spot me? I’m pushing for 270 today. Well, 315 with the bar.” Buck asked, winking at Eddie like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Yeah,” Eddie rasped, voice a little rougher than he meant for it to come out.
He cleared his throat and stood behind Buck, hands extended, eyes following the steady rise and fall of the bar. At first. Eddie’s eyes caught on the defined curve of Buck’s biceps flexing as he pressed. Each rep made his own pulse quicken, not just from the exercise but from the awareness of how close they were. How easily he could feel the heat radiating off of Buck’s skin. How he could feel Buck’s rhythmic exhales against his hands with each rep. Hands that remained calm in war zones and five alarm fires shook against his will before he watched Buck grunt hard and rack the bar.
Buck sat up on the bench, catching his breath.
“You good?” he gasped out between ragged breaths, nodding toward Eddie’s hands.
Eddie blinked, realizing he’d been staring as Buck’s chest stretched the limits of his shirt.
“Yeah. Good. Just thinking.”
“About what?”
He could’ve said anything. The next shift, the equipment order, the latest tough call. But the truth pressed heavy at his ribs like a maxed out barbell that slipped from him grip.
“How much you’ve changed,” Eddie said softly, carefully. “Didn’t realize it until now.”
Buck wiped the sweat from his brow and palmed it on his freshly pumped chest.
“Good change or bad change?”
Eddie smiled, small but honest.
“Good. Definitely good.”
The silence stretched between them, charged. The kind that said without words that something new had shifted. Something Eddie didn’t know if he was ready to name yet, but could feel.
Buck grabbed his water bottle and bumped Eddie’s shoulder on the way toward the lock room, the playfulness of Buck’s touch grounding him just enough to realize he didn’t want to watch him go.
“I can spot you again if you wa-” Eddie eeked out nervously, before his brain registered that Buck was gone.
Eddie had finished his workout last, stretching the time out under the excuse of cleaning up, though part of him knew he was just avoiding his thoughts. The locker room was half-lit, quiet except for the echo of running water and the sound of Eddie forcefully shaking the persistent thoughts out of his head.
From across the room, the shower hissed. As he moved closer, Eddie heard as Buck’s voice carried lightly over the steam in a low hum. Maybe a song, maybe just a habit. Eddie tried to focus on folding his towel, but his eyes drifted before he could stop them.
Buck was just a few stalls away, water tracing the span of his shoulders, down his triceps, across the rippling, pumped chest that Eddie now noticed with startling clarity. The steam hung thick in the air, Buck’s lower half obscured by the stall partition. But the top half was clear as the water that shimmered down his skin. Muscle built over years of fire calls, emergency rescues, and every workout he had sweat through. Eddie had always known Buck was strong, but now there was a sturdiness to him. Not just the body, but the way he stood, in and out of the shower. Confident. Grounded.
Buck turned around, back to Eddie. Eddie froze, caught in the sight of Buck’s muscles flexing as he reached around to scrub his back. Eddie’s eyes followed the water’s path from his traps down the curve of Buck’s spine. The long, defined lines seemed to stretch on forever, from the sharp curve of his broad shoulders down the tightness in his lower back where the muscles rippled with every movement.
Eddie told himself it wasn’t about looking, it was about noticing. The same way he’d notice Buck’s birthmark changing shape when his brows furrowed, a new ingredient in Buck’s latest recipe, or a shift in Buck’s mood. But it felt different this time. Something caught between admiration and ache.
He turned away, forcing his attention to his locker, locking eyes with his reflection in the dented metal door. His pulse was steady but quick, the same incessant buzz he’d felt earlier in the gym. He swung open the locker and placed his towel down, deciding now wasn’t the best time to shower.
“Eddie?” Buck called over the water. “You heading out soon?”
Eddie cleared his throat. He should’ve been better at forcing a calm he didn’t feel.
“Yeah. Just finishing up.”
Buck stepped out a minute later from behind the stall partition, towel slung low, grin easy and unguarded.
“Man, that was a killer set. A personal best feels great today but I’m gonna feel that tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” Eddie said, eyes fixed on the floor, tracing every ridge and crack of the 118. “You’ve been pushing hard.”
“Guess I like seeing progress,” Buck laughed, his swollen, damp biceps naturally flexing as he rubbed the back of his neck.
Eddie met his gaze then, just for a second. There was nothing teasing in Buck’s expression. Only warmth, pride, and a kind of unintentional openness that made Eddie’s chest ache further.
Eddie looked away first, grabbing his bag from the locker with unsteady hands.
“You definitely have progressed.”
Something flickered in Buck’s voice then, shy but curious.
“You noticed?”
“It’s hard not to notice.” Eddie nodded toward Buck’s body, sneaking a glance before quickly re-gluing his eyes to the floor.
The air between them felt charged again. Fragile. A moment balanced on the edge of something new. Thick with everything neither of them could be the first to say.
Buck shifted his weight, hand drifting from the back of his neck to reach for Eddie, stopping short and letting it fall to his side. The other hand clutched his towel as if he wasn’t sure what to do with it. The small, nervous movement didn’t match the confident firefighter Eddie now knew he’d become- and somehow that made it worse. Or better. He couldn’t tell yet.
“Hey,” Buck said softly, the edge of his usual grin gone now, replaced by something uncertain. “You good?” He asked for the second time that night, tone poking lightly for something more.
Eddie nodded but the words got caught somewhere in his throat.
“Yeah,” he managed finally. His eyes shot up past Buck’s body, settling purposefully on Buck’s wet curls pressed to his forehead. “Just got a lot on my mind.”
Buck’s eyes searched Eddie’s face for a beat too long. He inched closer to Eddie, leaning in just enough for Eddie to feel the re-ignited heat radiating between them, drying his throat.
“You sure that’s all?”
Buck was close enough that Eddie inhaled the familiar scent of cinnamon and lavender. Eddie fought the urge to inhale deeply; instead he exhaled heavily through his nose, almost a laugh.
“If I told you everything, I’m not sure you’d believe me.”
Buck tilted his head, hand twitching on his towel, eyes narrowing slightly. Curious, open, waiting.
“Try me.”
Eddie swallowed hard, pulse loud in his ears. For a second, he thought he might actually say it first. Or at least something close to it. His heart dropped as the words dissolved in his throat before they reached his lips. He just shook his head, smiled faintly.
“Another time.”
If Buck was disappointed, Eddie couldn’t make it out on his face. Buck’s expression softened, his usual smile settling at the corners of his mouth.
“Alright Diaz, I’ll hold you to that.”
Buck turned to walk toward his locker and the moment broke, just barely. It lingered on Eddie like static in the air, tugging at his skin as he left the locker room, too disappointed to call out a goodnight.
But where had that flicker of disappointment come from? The lack of a look, a touch, a word that might have changed everything? Despite it all, as he walked out into the cool night air, Eddie caught himself smiling. Not because he had answers yet, but because for the first time, he wanted to ask himself the questions.
By the time Eddie got home, Christopher had long since left a voicemail to say goodnight from Tia’s phone. She was a godsend on late night shifts. The quiet should’ve helped, but it didn’t. Every time Eddie closed his eyes, he saw Buck’s solid hands gripping the barbell, the way his chest muscles tightened and released with every rep, sweat rushing down the center before soaking into his shirt. He remembered how Buck’s eyes had flicked up mid-set, catching him staring. Did Eddie imagine that knowing grin spreading across Buck’s face because he’d realized Eddie was watching? The image of Buck’s shoulders, his chest, his eyes, his grin, replayed endlessly behind his eyes, impossible to shake.
He sat on the couch for a long time, elbows on his knees, trying to make sense of it. He’d spent years believing whole-heartedly that Buck was just his partner, his best friend, his brother-in-arms. The guy who always had his back. But tonight, something had shifted. Something he couldn’t shove back into the neat, safe boxes he packed in LA and El Paso.
A soft rasp at the door pulled him from his thoughts. Eddie frowned, checking the time. Nearly midnight.
He didn’t need to check the door camera. The smell of cinnamon and lavender wafted through the door as Eddie drew near. When he opened the door, Buck stood with his hair still damp from his shower, green hoodie hastily thrown over a white T-shirt.
“Hey,” Buck said softly. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to show up so late. Figured I shouldn’t use the doorbell in case Chris was sleeping. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed off earlier.”
Eddie stepped aside just enough to let Buck slide past him through the doorway, practically muscle memory at this point.
“Chris is with Tia Pepa. And yeah. I’m fine. Just tired, I guess.”
Buck nodded, but his eyes searched Eddie’s face knowingly. He flopped down on the couch like it was his own, spread his legs wide and patted the cushion beside him.
“Sit.”
Eddie should’ve protested. Should’ve suggested that the remedy was sleep. He sat down beside Buck, warmth radiating through Buck’s hoodie, less intense than at the station but still comforting, inviting. Neither spoke for a while. The silence gathered steadily between them, waiting desperately for the first one to break it.
Buck leaned back, one arm draped over the couch. “You’ve been quiet tonight,” he said, his tone light but tinged with curiosity around the edges. “That usually means one of two things: either you’re thinking too hard, or you’re mad at me.”
Eddie’s chest loosened as he gave a short laugh, shaking his head.
“Not mad, Buck.”
Buck’s lips curved, that same smile Eddie saw when he closed his eyes; too knowing.
“So, thinking too hard then.”
Eddie huffed as his head hung, eyes stealing a moment to flick to Buck’s hands. Still firm, still solid.
“Maybe.”
Buck tilted his head, studying him for a beat.
“You ever gonna tell me what about? Or am I supposed to guess?”
Eddie looked up to find Buck still watching him. The space between them felt smaller than it had the dozens of other times they shared this couch. His gaze slipped down for half a breath, catching the way Buck’s chest rose and fell beneath his hoodie, the soft strain of muscle visibly moving underneath even the baggy cotton.
When Eddie looked back up, Buck’s expression had changed into something quieter, more aware. His chest stopped rising and falling, his breath caught by Eddie’s stare. The air between them impossibly thickened further.
Buck’s mouth opened like he wanted to speak, then closed again. His typical grin softened into something small, something real.
“Whatever’s going on in that head of yours” he said, voice low now, “just…don’t shut me out, okay?”
The words lingered. Gentle, steady, and too much all at once. Eddie didn’t trust himself to answer, so he didn’t. He just nodded, the smallest movement, enough to make Buck’s smile return.
“It’s been a long day. I’ll grab us some beers.” Eddie said as he shifted slightly on the couch, moving to stand. Buck’s knee brushed his. Just a light touch, the kind that might’ve been accidental if either of them wanted to pretend it was. Neither did.
The contact froze them both. Buck’s hand rested on the back of the couch, inches from Eddie’s shoulder. Slowly, testing a boundary he wasn’t sure he should cross. His fingers grazed the fabric of Eddie’s sleeve. Just the whisper of skin over cotton, but enough to raise Eddie’s heart rate beyond what any workout ever could.
Eddie looked up, and Buck was already looking back, eyes locked. And then it clicked. He wanted Buck. Not as a work partner, not as a best friend, not as a brother-in-arms, but in every way that made his own chest tighten and his pulse race. Something he caught in Buck’s eyes, warm and questioning, told him the feeling wasn’t one-sided.
Even with every muscle obscured by his hoodie, Eddie could sense the strength that Buck carried. And for the first time, Eddie didn’t run from what he felt.
Eddie shifted slightly on the couch, pressing further into the heat radiating off of Buck. He cleared his throat, trying to sound casual, but his voice betrayed him.
“Uh…hey,” he stammered, eyes flicking to the hoodie stretched over Buck’s large frame. “It’s kinda warm in here. Maybe- maybe you should take that sweater off?”
Buck’s eyebrows lifted, mark folding, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Is that an invitation or just a complaint about my fashion sense?”
Eddie’s cheeks warmed.
“Uh…a little of both,” he admitted, trying not to stare too obviously. His eyes, however, betrayed him instantly, tracing the slope of Buck’s shoulders, the swell of his traps under the cotton lifting the hoodie with every breath.
Buck chuckled, slow and easy, like he knew exactly the effect he had on Eddie. With a fluid motion, he tugged the hoodie over his head, revealing the damp sheen of his white shirt stretched taught against chest and shoulders. Eddie’s eyes widened, his pulse spiking further. Every muscle flexed subtly as Buck shifted. Pecs, delts, biceps, triceps; all perfectly defined, smooth definitions of strength that caught the soft light in the room.
Eddie swallowed hard, voice rough. “Yeah…yeah, that’s…wow. That’s really something.”
Buck’s grin softened, playful but not dismissive. “Something good or something bad?”
“Definitely good,” Eddie breathed, leaning back slightly to take it all in, memorizing the curve of his chest, the flex in his arms, the ripple of abs below the white cotton as Buck relaxed into the couch beside him.
“You’ve really grown into all of this,” Eddie confessed, voice dense, heavy. “All of it.”
Buck’s gaze met Eddie’s, smile curling at his lips.
“I noticed you staring at the gym,” he said, tone teasing but not mocking. “Didn’t think it fazed you that much.”
Eddie smiled, a little sheepishly.
“Maybe it does now. Your body’s changed so much.”
The air between them tensed with unspoken words and shared heat. Eddie’s hand itched to brush along Buck’s arm, to feel the muscle under his fingers. Instead he just let his gaze linger, drinking it in. An image that would never escape from behind his eyes.
Buck’s grin flicked mischievously.
“You know,” he said, "if you want, I could flex for you. Show off a little.”
Eddie’s pulse jumped, and he swallowed hard.
“Yeah…yeah, go ahead,” escaped his lips, almost breathless. “I want to see.”
Buck flexed his arm, the head of his bicep threatening to rip the boundaries of his sleeve, the fabric around his chest muscles tightening with the movement. Eddie’s eyes widened, tracing the bulge of his arms, the swell of his pecs, the way the fabric stretched taut over each curve. He leaned in, unable to hide the admiration in his gaze.
“Damn,” Eddie muttered, voice low and rough, heat rising in his chest. “Yeah, show me more.”
Buck obliged, playful smirk still on his face. There was a softness in his eyes too, letting Eddie drink it in, letting Eddie appreciate all of him. The strength, the curves, the quiet power that’s been steadily growing. Eddie’s fingers itched to reach out, to trace with more than his eyes. But he stayed where he was, reveling in the moment.
“Yeah,” Eddie murmured, voice rough, barely able to keep it steady. “Keep going.”
With a slow, deliberate motion, Buck straightened his left arm forward, flexing his tricep. The muscle bulged as it escaped the fabric, thick and defined. Eddie’s eyes followed every line, every curve. His right arm mirrored the movement, then Buck leaned slightly forward, framing his chest with his arms, pushing out his muscles in a flex that made the fabric stretch even tighter over the swell of his pecs.
Eddie’s breath stopped completely, focused entirely on memorizing Buck’s muscles. He could see the strength at every angle. His pulse thudded in his ears, heat pooling low in his groin.
Buck’s grin softened. He held the pose just long enough for Eddie to drink it in. Teasing yet intimate, like he knew exactly what Eddie needed to see. Every flex, every movement, relayed the months and years of training behind those muscles. Muscles Eddie had somehow only today noticed in this way.
Eddie swallowed the lump in his throat, voice low and rough. “I…don’t just want to look,” he panted, the words barely above a whisper.
Buck’s smile widened, something more intimate than amusement beginning to light his eyes.
“Good,” he murmured, voice husky. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
Eddie’s hand hovered halfway between them, fingers shaking in a way they never had on a hose line or behind a rifle. He shifted closer until their knees brushed again, this time unmistakably deliberate. Eddie’s fingers hesitated at the edge of Buck’s sleeve before he finally touched him. Lightly, carefully. Despite how strong Buck had become, the moment between them still felt fragile.
Buck inhaled sharply as Eddie pressed gently against the curve of Buck’s bicep through the thin cotton of his shirt. The muscle shifted under Eddie’s touch, flexing and swelling under his grasp.
“Eddie,” Buck breathed, voice dropping low enough that Eddie felt it more than heard it.
Eddie’s hand trailed upward, slow enough for Buck to stop him. He didn’t. Instead, he leaned into it. Eddie’s fingers continued, brushing over the solid muscle at Buck’s shoulder, then down, tracing the defined shape of his chest through the fabric.
Eddie’s gaze followed his finger as it outlined the border of Buck’s chest that stopped expanding as Buck held his breath. The damp white fabric dipped with the pressure of Eddie’s touch, and Buck’s breath hitched again as Eddie’s finger grazed his nipple; holding still was somehow involuntary and the hardest thing he’d ever done.
“I wasn’t lying earlier,” Eddie murmured, voice husky and honest. “You really did change. And I-” his thumb brushed the center of Buck’s chest, heartbeat thudding steady and fast against his light pressure. “I can’t help but notice.”
Buck’s breath restarted, leaning his chest into Eddie’s faint touch. Challenging, encouraging.
“You can notice more.” Buck whispered, half tease half something closer to a beg.
Eddie let out a shaky breath and finally ran his hand flat across Buck’s chest. Slow. Reverent. Committing Buck to memory muscle by muscle, line by line. He felt the stuttering rise and fall of Buck’s breath as his touch grew more confident, appreciating everything Buck had built, everything he now offered Eddie.
Eddie’s hand wrapped around the bulking curve of Buck’s bicep, palm exploring the smooth, sculpted muscle. Appreciating the way the weight shifted under Buck’s skin as he flexed it into a firm, defined shape.
“Jesus, Buck…” Eddie muttered, his voice thick with a mixture of awe and urgency. “When the hell did you-” his voice trailed off as he felt the bicep, taut and firm, tense under his hand.
Before Buck could answer, Eddie moved his hand down to his forearm, fingers racing over the veins bulging like rivers beneath his skin. Arms powerful enough to pull him out of danger, under cover, into safety, now yielding to his touch.
“God…” Eddie’s voice strained as his hands massaged back up Buck’s arm, his thumb wrapped around to trace the hard curve of Buck's tricep, the muscle flexing under his touch. His mass was pure power, hard and defined. Eddie was lost in the way every muscle shifted for him. He couldn’t help himself, he needed to touch more. To feel more. Eddie’s lips parted, his heart pounding as he slowly, reverently kissed the curve of Buck’s tricep, along the defined muscle that tensed under his touch.
“You arms,” Eddie rasped, not even knowing if he could form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence. “Buck, your fucking arms…”
Buck’s mouth fell open, caught between a moan and a sigh, head tilting back as Eddie’s touch completely unraveled him. “You like them?” Buck’s voice was gravelly, thick with the same heat Eddie had felt all day. He flexed his arms harder, feeling its bulk tighten beneath Eddie’s lips. Buck watched Eddie’s face; enraptured, mix of hunger and awe in his eyes.
“I love them.” Eddie’s hand moved lower again, his fingers running along the entirety of Buck’s arm. There was no way to explain with words the way Buck’s muscles made him feel. They were a testament to both his hard work and something deeper. Something Eddie hadn’t fully understood until now. Something to be adored, worshipped by him.
Eddie shifted, his body gravitating closer to Buck’s. He leaned in as both hands wrapped around Buck’s biceps. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” Eddie whispered between pressing soft kisses to the firm skin, memorizing every inch of Buck’s strength with his lips. “Every part of you, Buck. God, it’s unreal.”
Buck’s breath was uneven, and Eddie could feel the way his body was responding- tight, coiled, like he was barely holding back. “Touch me. All of me,” Buck rasped. His hands landed on Eddie’s, guiding him down the smooth expanse of his chest, Eddie’s hands catching on cotton as they were led to the sculpted ridges of his stomach. The heat was intoxicating, emboldening.
Eddie shifted his hands, intertwining with Buck’s, pushing against him to guide Buck’s back onto the couch. The movement was gentle but firm. Eddie knew exactly what he wanted, and for the first time he was willing to take it.
Buck’s back hit the cushion with a soft thud, mind reeling as Eddie was on top of him, pressing his weight onto Buck’s frame. Eddie closed the gap between them, lips meeting Buck’s in a soft but confident kiss.
Buck’s hand slid up the back of Eddie’s neck, tugging him closer to deepen the kiss. Eddie pressed his body harder into Buck’s as he grasped the collar of Buck’s shirt between both fists and ripped the fabric down the middle in one smooth motion, revealing the sculpted muscles of his chest and abs.
Eddie broke their lips apart as his gaze clung to the freed plane of Buck’s torso, skin seeming to glow in the soft lighting. Buck tensed and relaxed his pecs, teasingly bouncing them together as his voice broke through the haze in Eddie’s mind.
“You gonna keep staring, or?”
A dominant growl was Eddie’s only response to the invitation.