Raven_Writes
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Summary
"What— what do you see?"
"I see," Eddie says, measured, careful, "someone who looks like he wanted somebody to see him like that."
Buck's whole body goes hot.
"And I'm trying to decide," Eddie continues, slower now, his breath heavier, "whether I'm allowed to be that somebody."
The hand on Buck's thigh has migrated upward. He notices it three seconds after it happens, his palm now resting flat against his own stomach where his shirt has rucked up, fingers splayed across the skin. The touch of his own hand on his own body in this context is sending a current up his spine that he is, evidently, helpless to stop.
"Eddie." Buck's voice cracks. "Are you— are you jerking off to my photo?"
The pause is brief but loaded, and when Eddie answers it’s barely recognizable, every word landing somewhere in the south of Buck's body with a measurable physical impact.
"You send me a picture like that, Buck. What am I supposed to do?"
Or,
Buck wins a boudoir photoshoot giveaway. Eddie reaps the benefits.Or,
Buck accidentally sends his nudes to Eddie. -
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Summary
Buck knows three things for certain, and one thing for maybe.
Number one: Eddie does not have a POA.
Number two: if the doctors had come to the waiting room to ask what the group had thought Eddie’s wishes were, all eyes would’ve turned to Buck.
Number three: isn’t that what a POA is, really?
The maybe: Eddie would put Buck in his will a second time.Or: Eddie's hurt on the job. Again. Buck spreads misinformation in the waiting room.
Series
- Part 1 of can't you feel the weight of my stare?
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Summary
Buck reaches up to remove the hat Eddie put on him before, but Eddie’s hand shoots up with inhuman speed, wrapping around his wrist to stop him.
“Nu-uh,” he says, lowering Buck’s arm. “The hat stays on.”
Buck chuckles, a little breathless.
“Damn, Eddie, do you have a cowboy kink I didn’t know about?”
In response, Eddie only huffs, rolling his eyes with a playful smile tugging at his lips as he slides his hands down Buck’s chest to his stomach, the touch so light it tickles. And then Eddie’s hands go lower, lean fingers grabbing at his belt.
Or, the mechanical bull isn’t the only thing getting ridden in Nashville.
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Summary
Eddie has never flipped his phone over so fast. Chris looks up, eyebrows raised.
“Did Buck send you another snake picture?” he asks.
He can't say no, because Buck… Buck did. But not of a rattlesnake mid-strike this time. He sent an entirely different sort of snake. He nods, his throat too dry to speak.
Buck sends Eddie a nude. Eddie can't stop thinking about it.
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Summary
Buck chuckles, digging his fingernails into the expanse of Eddie’s hips. “Don’t forget the name of the game… truth or dare?”
“I hate you,” Eddie hisses as he lets his head hit the door with blunt force, the sound echoing throughout the empty house. Bad idea. That may hurt tomorrow.
“Feels like it.” Buck pauses to pull back, sweat dripping down his forehead, his cheeks blotchy and his nose beet red. Eddie wants to lick it up, wants to take another shot of tequila and chase it down with Buck’s sweat and a squeeze of lime. “You’re still so hard, Eds.”
Or; Eddie and Buck get drunk on tequila and they play a very intense game of Truth or Dare.