buddienights - Tumblr blog

buddienights · 3 years ago

Text

hiccuped endlessly trying to giggle

[2.4k, E, a shitpost brought to life]

no you made a shitpost about anal fingering as a hiccup cure and then wrote a 2k+ fic about it and titled it with a line from howl by allen ginsberg

It starts with the hiccups.

Which—Eddie has spent more time than he cares to admit imagining this. He’s sensed the energy buzzing between him and Buck, and he’s pretty certain it’s only a question of when, not if.

He’s visualised all the different ways it might happen—slowly drifting closer together after a tipsy evening on the couch, something dramatic and life-affirming in the wake of a dangerous call, heated and frantic when the tension becomes too much—but he’s never imagined hiccups.

But here they are.

Eddie’s had the hiccups for going on two days now, and it’s starting to get to him.

Well, it started to get to him two hours into their shift. Now it’s driving him up the wall.

He’s spent most of the shift trying every possible remedy the rest of the 118 can come up with. Chimney tells him to drink from the wrong side of the glass, and Hen waits until he’s bent over trying not to get water up his nose to say “Nah, man, that’s a myth.”

Eddie splutters, and the water goes up his nose. “You couldn’t have—hic!—said that a minute ago?”

“I wanted to see if you could do it,” Hen shrugs. “Anyway, what you need to do is eat a spoonful of sugar.”

“And that—hic!—works?” Eddie asks.

“More than that water nonsense,” Hen says.

It doesn’t work.

“You need to breathe into a paper bag,” Bobby says, brandishing what looks like a leftover brown lunch bag. “It’s, uh, something to do with oxygen.”

Eddie breathes into the paper bag. It doesn’t help.

Ravi spends half the shift following him around and trying to scare him. He starts by jumping out from behind corners, and escalates to trying to fake an emergency call from Christopher's school.

Eddie just raises his eyebrows. “Has anyone ever—hic!—told you that you’re not a good actor?”

It doesn’t help.

Buck googles lists of hiccup remedies and Eddie tries them one by one, but by the time their shift ends he’s still hiccuping.

“It’s not working,” Eddie groans, dropping his head into his hands with a miserable hic! “I’m going to be like this forever.”

“you know hiccups just go away on their own, right?” Buck asks. “Well. Mostly.”

“Mostly?” Eddie asks. “I don’t—hic!—like the sound of that.”

“Well, the longest recorded hiccups went on for sixty-eight years,” Buck says. “But hey, even those eventually stopped.”

“I can’t do this for sixty-eight years, Buck,” Eddie says. “It’s barely—hic!—been sixty-eight hours and I’m about to tear my windpipe out. Bare—hic!—hands.”

“Okay, okay,” Buck says. “We’ll keep looking.”

“Follow me home?” Eddie asks.

“You got it.”

They pull up to an empty house. Christopher’s at school, and Eddie’s glad if only because he’s started following every hiccup with a four-letter word he doesn’t want his son to pick up.

“Still going?” Buck asks, climbing out of his jeep.

Eddie hiccups in response.

They enter the house and sprawl out on the couch. Eddie spreads himself out, taking far more space than he needs, and after a few moments of trying to get him to move Buck just flops on top of him, settling his head on Eddie’s stomach.

Eddie hiccups, and Buck’s head jolts with the motion.

“Okay,” Buck says, “I’m going to find a new list. There’s gotta be something we haven’t tried yet.”

Buck’s quiet as he scrolls through his phone, the only sound in the room Eddie’s occasional hiccups and the soft swears that follow. Eddie stares at Buck’s head pillowed on his stomach, at the blonde hair drying into soft curls, and fights the urge to touch him. to run his hand through Buck’s golden hair, to trace a path from his temple down the curve of his cheekbone.

He fights the urge, because they’re not there yet. They’re not—every day they inch a little closer, every day another barrier breaks down, but they haven’t quite crossed the line yet.

Eddie’s spent the past several months trying to figure out how to do it, but none of his plans seem good enough. He might, he thinks, be in his head about it a little.

But in his defence, he only gets one chance to tell the love of his life how he feels. He thinks he’s allowed to be a little dramatic about it.

Except all of his dramatic plans go out the window when Buck makes a noise and slams his phone down against his chest like he’s just gotten a raunchy pop-up ad in a room full of disapproving old people.

“What?” Eddie asks, bumping his foot against Buck’s leg.

“Uh—nothing,” Buck says, in the most suspicious tone Eddie’s ever heard come out of Buck’s mouth.

Eddie hiccups.

“It’s—” Buck starts, and abruptly closes his mouth.

“Buck,” Eddie practically whines, and hiccups again.

“It’s—” Buck tries again, and swallows. “Uh, this article I found suggests—”

Eddie hiccups. “Just tell me,” he groans. “Come on, how bad could it be? Hic!”

“Rectal massage,” Buck says, the words tripping over each other like he just wants to get them out as fast as possible. “Apparently, there was a guy who stopped hiccuping after rectal massage. And this is in, like, Healthline, so it’s probably legit—”

Eddie squeaks. Later, he will deny such a sound ever leaving his mouth, but he definitely squeaks. And then he bursts out laughing, because—

“I swear to god, that’s what it says,” Buck says, trying to shove his phone in Eddie’s face.

“No, I believe you,” Eddie says, gasping amidst the laughter and the hiccups. “I believe you, just—hic!—imagine if I’d known—hic!—that all I had to do was get the fucking—hic!—hiccups?”

Buck lowers his phone again, slowly this time, and shifts in Eddie’s lap until he’s squinting up at Eddie. “When you say all you had to do…”

“Sit up,” Eddie says.

Buck frowns up at him, and Eddie pokes at his shoulder. “I mean it, Buck. Come on, sit up.”

“Why?” Buck asks, but he’s already scrambling up until he’s sitting next to Eddie on the couch.

“Because I’m—hic!—not about to break my back doing this,” Eddie says and leans in, his fingertips feathering along Buck’s jawline just as their lips meet.

Buck surges against him immediately, and it’s just like Eddie had known it would be. Like the dam has finally broken, and everything they’ve been holding back for months—years—can finally come rushing through.

Eddie loses himself in kissing Buck for all of two minutes before he hiccups again, this time directly into Buck’s mouth. Against his lips, he feels Buck’s curving into a grin.

“Does this mean you want to try?” Buck asks.

“God, yes,” Eddie breathes. “For the—hic!—hiccups, but also because I’m—hic!—stupidly in love with you and I want you to fuck me,” he says. “Just, you know. So we’re—hic!—clear.”

“I can work with that,” Buck says. his lips trail a path up the curve of Eddie’s jaw, and when he lands at Eddie’s ear it sends a shiver running through him. “So we’re clear,” Buck murmurs, lips brushing the shell of Eddie’s ear, “I’m in love with you, too.”

“Good,” Eddie says, half-gasp, and hiccups again. “Now will you please—hic!—fuck these hiccups out of me?”

Buck’s still laughing as he clambers off the sofa and holds out a hand, pulling Eddie up with him. “Hi,” he whispers as Eddie comes face to face with him, and despite the hiccups and the abject ridiculousness of the past several minutes, Eddie finds himself smiling.

“Hi,” he whispers back, suppressing a hiccup and leaning in to press his mouth against Buck’s, soft and slow and gentle. Buck sways against him, and for a moment Eddie is able to forget the unconventional way they found their way here and just enjoy the fact that they did.

Then he hiccups into Buck’s mouth again.

“Okay, okay,” Buck says, trying and failing not to laugh. “Bedroom?”

Eddie lets Buck pull him along and into the bedroom like it’s not his house. He hesitates for a moment once they get into the bedroom and close the door, unsure how to continue this slightly surreal situation, but Buck practically tackles him onto the bed, lips finding his as soon as they’re close enough again.

“You know,” Buck says, just barely pulling back, so Eddie feels his lips move against his cheek. “Normally, I wouldn’t put out like this on the first date. But there’s extenuating circumstances.”

Eddie opens his mouth to ask, but a hiccup comes out instead.

“Yeah, that,” Buck agrees, then he grins. “Also, I really want to fuck you.”

“Works for me,” Eddie breathes.

“Lube?” Buck asks, and Eddie fumbles in his bedside table until his hand closes around a bottle he can pretty much recognise by touch alone.

Buck makes quick work of their clothing, and when his shirt comes off Eddie can’t help but reach for Buck and pull him close, to press his lips wherever he can reach as his hands skim across Buck’s broad back, tracing the outlines of his muscles and counting his vertebrae one by one. Buck lets him get away with it, sinking into lazy, indulgent kisses, until Eddie hiccups three times in quick succession.

“Okay,” Buck murmurs. “Let’s take care of that first, yeah?”

He sits up, dragging his fingertips slowly down Eddie’s chest. Eddie’s only in his boxers now, and the outline of his cock twitches when Buck’s fingers pass his nipples, as they trace the waistband of his underwear. Buck trails a finger down the cloth-covered length of him and Eddie’s hips jerk, seeking friction.

Buck pulls his boxers off and Eddie watches the way his cock springs out, the way Buck’s gaze is immediately drawn to it. Buck wraps a hand around him and Eddie lets out a choked-off gasp, transitioning into a hiccup halfway through.

“Right,” Buck says. “Eyes on the prize.”

Buck’s hands move to Eddie’s legs, his large palms smoothing along Eddie’s inner thighs. He takes a moment just to touch Eddie, hands moving back and forth and slowly getting closer to the crease of his thigh. He nudges, careful, guiding Eddie to part his legs.

It’s—strange, to lie there, on his back with his leaking cock resting on his stomach and his legs spread wide. it’s strange, but he doesn’t feel exposed like he might have expected. There’s just a burgeoning sense of anticipation, an awareness of Buck’s every limb that only grows as Buck’s hands return to his inner thighs and move to cup his ass. There’s an ache growing within him, like if Buck doesn’t touch him soon he’ll break apart, even with Buck’s hands still on him.

Buck brushes a finger between Eddie’s cheeks, and Eddie lets out a sound best described as somewhere between a sigh and a whimper.

“Yeah?” Buck asks and does it again.

“Buck—” Eddie starts and gets cut off by a hiccup, but he thinks maybe his tone was enough to convey it.

“Yeah, baby,” Buck murmurs. “I’ve got you.”

Eddie hears the cap of the lube bottle, and the next time Buck touches him his fingers are cool and slippery. Buck takes his time, but Eddie’s gasping from the moment Buck touches him and only gets more incoherent the further Buck gets.

Buck’s fingers circle Eddie’s rim and Eddie swears, biting off a moan with a gritted-out fuck. Buck slips a single finger inside of him, and Eddie’s hiccups disappear almost immediately but he doesn’t notice, all of his attention fixed on the waves of pleasure radiating through him, escaping his mouth in a chant of “Oh god, Buck, shit, shit, oh my god—”

He’s barely aware of the bed shifting beside him but then Buck’s there, stretched out next to him with one hand still between his legs. Buck’s lips land on his cheek, his neck, his collarbone, his chest, scraping by his nipples and back up to Eddie’s mouth to swallow the litany of profanity spilling out of him.

Eddie thinks Buck might have added a finger but he can’t be sure, can’t be sure of anything except the fact that Buck is the only thing that exists in the universe right now. Just him and Buck on his bed, on the blue quilted covers that Buck called boring once but which Eddie likes because if he squints he can pretend they’re the same blue as Buck’s eyes.

Buck’s fingers curl, and they brush up against something inside him that blurs the edge of his vision and sends shockwaves through him. Eddie moans, louder than he has all day, and he can’t see Buck but when he speaks Eddie hears the grin in his voice.

“Yeah?” Buck murmurs. “Think you can come just like this?”

“Fuck,” Eddie says, and it’s not a response but it’s the only word he can find. He feels like he’s floating, like Buck’s hand is the only thing keeping him here, like all that’s left of him is the white-hot pleasure crashing over him in waves.

Buck curls his fingers again and Eddie tumbles over the edge; his release rips through him and he collapses back against the bed, limp. For several long moments, his ragged breathing is the only sound in the room.

“So,” Buck eventually says. “Did it work?”

Eddie’s still catching his breath, but he reaches for Buck and tugs him in, pressing their mouths together. “You tell me,” he murmurs some minutes later, entirely uninterrupted by hiccups.

“Good to know,” Buck grins, then switches to a frown so fast Eddie almost gets whiplash. “We need to come up with a different story to tell at work.”

Eddie snorts. “Yeah, I don’t think they want to hear this version.”

“Sucks for them,” Buck says. “I happen to think it’s a great version.”

“You’re biased,” Eddie points out.

“Lies and slander,” Buck says, and Eddie’s still laughing when he kisses Buck again.

“Hey, so,” Eddie says a minute later. “I know you don’t have the hiccups, but can I—I want to—”

Buck grins at him. “Hic.”

#my shot post was wrong #THIS is the dumbest way for them to get together (utterly affectionate)

188 notes · View notes