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“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Eddie says, softer.
This time, Buck elbows him, grinning when Eddie looks back up at him. “You are not,” Buck says.
“What? No. I am sorry for you that it didn’t work out. I know you’re looking for it.” He doesn’t look at him. “I’m just hungry,” he says primly.
“Oh, well, we can’t have you getting hangry,” Buck says dryly. He rests a hand on Eddie’s lower back as they head for the checkout, a pressure Eddie feels as surely as his own heartbeat. Buck just does that sometimes, casually steering him where he needs to go. The thoughtless gesture of any alpha around an omega. A younger Eddie, still all teeth and seethe over the unfairness of life giving him an extra hole between his legs, would have bristled. Now he just lets him. He always misses it when Buck takes his hand away, his back cold these past six months. The warmth is back where it belongs, and it makes his whole spine ripple. He matches his pace so Buck doesn’t drop his hand, hurrying a little on his shorter legs.
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Or: post-ep for Confessions. Alpha Buck just got dumped. Eddie's body responds accordingly.
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eddie omega, le rezo, es una obra maestra de sexo