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Summary
“You’re cheating,” Buck accuses.
“I’m winning.” Eddie pants, looking far too smug.
“I’m—” Buck tries to tug his arms free from Eddie’s hold to no avail. How is Eddie so damn strong? “I’m letting you.”
“You’re letting me pin you down? Do you like getting your ass handed to you, Buck?”
Heat floods Buck’s gut. He does like getting his ass handed to him. Or—no, well… he likes being pinned, or thrown against walls, or–or floors. But that’s different. That’s a sex thing. This is definitely not a sex thing. This is a bro thing. They’re bro-wrestling. Bro-housing. This is the most platonic thing Buck’s done in his entire life. He doesn’t know why he’s sweating.
Channelling his inner carpet python, he gives a determined wriggle, but Eddie’s hands tighten around his wrists. The feeling sends a shock through Buck’s spinal column.
Oh no.
Eddie, breathless and beautiful above him, repeats, “Say uncle.”
Breath stuttering out of him, Buck freezes.
Use your head, Buck thinks. His dick twitches. Then, panicked, the big one.
Or: Buck and Eddie wrestle over the remote. They forget the remote.
Series
- Part 16 of cjo + 911