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Summary
"You, uh, you ever heard of—of a prostate massage?" Buck asked. He had his hand resting on Eddie's shoulder now, with Eddie still holding onto his wrist.
Eddie huffed out a laugh best he could. "Don't tell me you learned that in, uh, in Peru." He said, trying to keep his voice light and joking as if it would dispell the tense air lighting up the room. As if it could hide the way he felt himself twitch in his briefs hearing Buck say prostate massage.
Buck smiled, not quite laughing as he replied. "No, that one is from other sources." He said. "Really good for stress relief, though. Tried and true."
Eddie shifted underneath Buck, feeling the stiff flagpole tucked away in his pants. He was leaking steadily now, the front of his underwear damp and sticking to him uncomfortably. He let go of Buck's wrist, bringing his hands up to sit underneath his head while he arched his back ever-so-slightly up towards Buck.
"If you think it'll help." He says, hoarse and much more sultry than he meant.
OR
the platonic prostate massage fic