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Tommy lands the chopper so smoothly Buck barely feels the skids touch the ground. The blades are still whirring as Buck takes his headset off, turning his head to look at Tommy.
“That was amazing, man,” he says.
“No biggie.” Tommy is mid-stretch, arms above his head, chest flexing.
“No, seriously.” Buck leans over the console. “It was special. I know we’ve been up a few times, but it doesn’t get old.”
He smiles at Tommy. It’s already been a few weeks, but the butterflies keep coming. Tommy is sitting all relaxed with his legs spread in the pilot seat, and Buck feels like a teenage girl.
He coughs. “You ever fuck anyone in this thing?”
Buck doesn’t wait for an answer; he’s already climbing over the console to sit on Tommy’s lap. His head bumps the ceiling — twice — but Tommy is warm and solid beneath him, and now he has a high-definition view of Tommy’s beautiful face. Worth it.
“You are such a bad influence,” Tommy says, before Buck grabs his face and kisses him.
The heat is instant; Buck is blushing like he’s never been kissed with tongue before. Tommy gets his arms around him and adjusts him like he weighs nothing, and that makes Buck so hot all over he has to take his hands off Tommy’s face and start using them for more important things, like unbuckling Tommy’s belt and getting their pants off.
“Kissing guys,” Buck says, as he maneuvers awkwardly to throw his jeans on the other seat. “Does it ever get old?”
Tommy laughs, eyes crinkling. “Hasn’t gotten old yet.”
“Fucking them,” Buck says — basically feverish as he spits in his palm and wraps his fingers around Tommy’s cock, and then his own, stroking them together as they both get hard. “Same thing?”
“Well,” Tommy says, with a bit less resolve than he had the last time he talked, so Buck must be doing something right. “It’s going really well right now.”
“Fuck yeah.”
“You got lube?” Tommy says.
Buck grins. “In my pocket.” He’s learned, okay, after too many times going up in the air for what Tommy says are flying lessons but honestly just turn into really incredible dates. Buck has not learned a single thing except how breathtaking the city is from above, and how hot Tommy looks in the pilot seat, all chiseled and confident against a backdrop of blue sky with his hand on the throttle. How badly he wants Tommy to fuck him right here in the cockpit, physical limitations of space be damned. “Finally came prepared.”
Buck unbuttons Tommy’s shirt. “You look really good in maroon,” he says, pushing the shirt off past Tommy’s shoulders so his whole chest is bare. He drags his fingertips over the scar on Tommy’s left pec. “Well, actually, you look really good in every color.”
Tommy’s chest rumbles as he laughs. “You flatter me too much.”
“It’s true,” Buck says. “I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t.”
Tommy kisses him. “Yeah, I know.” He tears open the lube packet and coats his fingers. Then he— what the hell?— sort of ghosts his fingertips around Buck’s hole, touching him but also not. Like he wants Buck to ask for it.
Fuck it, he will. “Can you please put your fingers in me Tommy,” he says, in a single breath, and Tommy hums approvingly as he obeys Buck’s request.
It’s not like Buck had never done this before Tommy. But it just feels different with Tommy, his two fingers opening Buck up. It’s better. Better than his own fingers or a toy for sure.
“You know, you might be turning me into a sex addict again,” Buck blurts out, grinding down on Tommy’s hand while Tommy fucks into him. “Like, I know it’s different because we’re being intentional and everything but I really think—”
“You’re doing so well for me, Evan,” Tommy says, in his steady and matter-of-fact way that Buck has come to know means stop overthinking and shut up.
Buck focuses really hard on just staying present. Tommy adds another finger and the stretch feels so, so good he brings his face down onto Tommy’s shoulder to stifle his moan.
“That’s it, baby,” Tommy says. “Wouldn’t want someone to hear and come investigating, do we?”
They’re not at the station — and no one’s around in the middle of a weekday at a helipad in the quiet part of Silver Lake, but Buck still almost passes out when he thinks of the possibility of someone walking by and seeing them.
Buck’s still thinking about that when Tommy slips his fingers out and says, “Okay, I think you’re ready.”
Buck feels some rustling underneath him, which he guesses is the condom, and then some lube, and then Tommy is lining himself up and Buck sinks down, slowly.
“Damn, Tommy, you feel good.” Buck loves it like this — the stretch that feels never-ending until he’s fully seated on Tommy’s perfect dick. “Do you want me to ride you?”
Tommy laughs. “I wouldn’t say no, baby.”
Buck has always put his all into everything he does, and he’s not going to stop now. He rides Tommy, with as much fervor as the tiny space allows. Tommy puts a hand on the ceiling to prevent Buck from bumping his head, which is both sweet and hot. At some point, Tommy puts his other hand on Buck’s cock, stroking it and smearing all the pre-come at the tip. It’s really a lot — Tommy’s dick hitting Buck’s prostate with every fucking stroke and then his hand working wonders on Buck. Buck is starting to lose his rhythm, and giving himself over to letting out these quiet little moans into Tommy’s shoulder.
“Okay,” Tommy says, this nefarious grin on his face like Buck is exactly where he wants him to be. “I can take it from here.”
He holds Buck steady — hot because Buck is big, but Tommy is bigger — and starts fucking up into him. Really the way Tommy is managing to do this in a fucking helicopter should be commended.
“You,” Buck says, panting, a few minutes later, “are so—” He tries to catch his breath as Tommy just drills into him. “Unscrupulous.”
Tommy falters for a second before going back to the same relentless pace. He laughs, face open and amused. “Did you just—”
“You—” Buck interrupts, “let me, fucking— oh my god— ride you—” Buck’s voice is literally vibrating now, what the fuck?— “And you knew you were just gonna— oh my god, Tommy— fuck me anyway.”
“God, Tommy,” Buck says, as it dawns on him, held up by Tommy with his dick painfully hard and untouched— “I’m gonna come.”
“You can come, baby,” Tommy says, thrusts slowing down but somehow deeper, hitting Buck in all the right places. And Buck makes a mess all over himself and Tommy’s chest, white splashes everywhere.
Buck is lightheaded from the orgasm but still taking it. He wants everything Tommy has to give him. “You look amazing like this,” he says, voice shaky, “with my come all over your chest.” He picks some of it up with his finger and makes Tommy taste it. He thinks carefully about what he wants to say next. “Think I should mark you up more often.”
Buck feels Tommy tense up underneath him, and then he’s coming. Satisfaction settles deep in Buck’s chest. He did that. He removes himself from Tommy, wincing at the loss of sensation, but stays in his lap. They sit for a while, just breathing.
“That was good, wasn’t it,” Tommy says, wiping some sweat off Buck’s forehead in an incongruously tender way that Buck doesn’t even want to think about.
“It was fucking good, Tommy.”
“Get off my lap. My legs are going numb.”
Buck smiles. He takes the whole view in. Tommy saying words that are cranky but looking content. His eyes crinkling to the max as he smiles back at Buck. That maroon shirt pushed off his shoulders, so rumpled it’s gonna need an iron. Many irons — or possibly a dry cleaner.
“Alright,” Buck says, acquiescing, “but I’m gonna miss it.” He’s trying to be playful but sincerity creeps in. He can’t help it. He pulls on his jeans in the most inelegant way possible. “I already miss it.”