Eddie knows what he is.
He’s never been under any illusions. Mom had always told them how hard it was, the transition, learning how to be different, more, and how she had done it because she loved Dad that much.
Eddie’s pretty sure—mostly sure—kind of sure that she told that story to encourage them all to believe in love and that shit, even though Dad was never the most openly affectionate of men. But all that Eddie ever heard was that being a werewolf was a curse, and you’d have to be pretty damn stupid or ready for suffering if you took it on.
It’s different for him, of course, born this way. He doesn’t know any other way to be. But he looks at humans, smells them, hears their fragile heartbeats, and looks down at himself with his claws that unsheathe and the fangs that protrude and he knows exactly what he is.
Shannon said it, once. During a fight. She’d never said it before and Eddie’d thought maybe… but it was stupid to think, maybe.
He’s not sure who Shannon blamed more for how Christopher turned out, herself or Eddie, his genes, his poisoned DNA.
Not that he blames her. He never told her, not until after she came to him terrified and pregnant with his kid, and he had no choice. It’s a lot for anyone to be saddled with a sudden pregnancy, but a kid that’ll be able to turn into a wolf? All those crazy stories you never really believed in suddenly turning out to be true? His family likes to paint her as a villain but Eddie’s never been able to completely blame her.
So after Shannon—after. When he’s finally ready to move on, and he looks up and he sees his best friend and his heart squeezes and the wolf inside him whines and whispers mine, mine, mine…
He knows what he is, and he knows Buck will never want that part of him.
Buck can’t say that dating Eddie is always a walk in the park.
Honestly, he’s just glad that he found out about the whole werewolf thing before they started dating. Christopher’s still young and only half-werewolf so his transformations are still a little out of control sometimes, and he turned right in front of Buck’s eyes.
That had been the weirdest conversation of his life.
Christopher’s the fucking cutest thing as a wolf, moving on his spindly legs, his fur a soft golden brown, wuffling and wagging his tail everywhere. Buck’s sure Eddie will be just as cute, in a different way.
If he could ever see Eddie in his damn wolf form, that is.
That’s the problem. Eddie has… well Buck’s got his own issues too, and they’re working through them, and he loves Eddie so fucking much it hurts something deep and hollow in his chest. Sometimes, when they’re tangled together at night, he wants to never let go, he wants to let Eddie bury himself in Buck’s heart, his lungs, dig himself in between Buck’s ribs so that he will never, ever be without Eddie.
But Eddie won’t let him in about the werewolf thing.
He tries to ask about it, and Eddie will usually answer, but he never volunteers information and he always tries to keep that separate. Like on full moon nights, Eddie won’t let Buck come over. One time, Buck wore Eddie’s shirt and Eddie looked so fucking pleased and happy, and then the next moment he’d looked angry at himself and ashamed, and Buck hasn’t worn any of Eddie’s clothes since just to keep that horrible look off his boyfriend’s face.
But Buck’s done research. Most of it’s bullshit, and he’s seen some frankly disturbing things that he will never be able to scrub from his brain, but he’s managed to find some stuff that seems legit, so he’s pretty sure he knows what he’s in for. And, okay, some of it is… uh… hmm.
“So do you guys have a knot?” he asks one night as they’re doing the dishes.
Eddie’s fingers nearly slip on the plate he’s holding. “Uh. Sometimes.”
Oh God, is it big? Buck hopes it’s big. He imagines the size of it and feels such a pulse of lust his legs get a little weak. When he’d read up on that online he’d had quite a fun time in the shower about it, but it’s one thing to fantasize over shit that might or might not be true on the internet and quite another to hear it from the horse’s mouth.
“And do you… so what do you do, do you turn into a full wolf or…?”
Eddie’s jaw gets tight. It always does when Buck tries to bring this up. “Full wolf when it’s deliberate or during the full moon. Partial during ruts.”
Yes, ruts, that. Buck would like to know a lot more about that. “Partial, huh?”
He slides his hand across the waistband of his jeans and gives a deliberate glance to Eddie’s fly.
Eddie rolls his eyes and finishes the dishes. “We’re not discussing it, Buck.”
“Why not?” It’s a part of Eddie, and so Buck loves it. He loves every part of Eddie, even the cranky parts.
“We’re just—we’re not.”
Buck takes a deep breath. He’s learning he needs to work on not pushing at certain bruises. “Okay. But…” He doesn’t know how to say this, not without making Eddie feel raw, and that’s the last thing he wants. “You know I love you, right?”
Eddie softens immediately, drying his hands. “Of course I know that.”
He takes the two steps to cross to Buck and kisses him, soft in the way Eddie is always soft, his hands lingering on Buck’s waist. “I love you too.”
Then why don’t you fucking trust me?
Buck doesn’t say it out loud. He knows better than to start that argument at nine o’clock at night. But he can’t help but start to wonder if the problem is him.
Eddie checks the calendar again, and his phone app, notes the tell-tale itch starting up under his skin, and groans.
There’s no avoiding it. This kind of thing only comes up about once a year, but he and Buck have been dating for six months and he’d started to hope that maybe it just… wouldn’t come.
Shannon had always hated this time of year. Eddie had never asked her to participate. He’d buy a motel room, a fuckton of lube, and just take care of it as best he could on his own. Then in the military he’d been on suppressants (and boy hadn’t his first time after discharge been a fucking mess), and after Shannon he’d been on his own again.
It wasn’t even the lack of proper sex that had made it suck. It had been the lack of smell, the lack of heat, no other human being to mark and hold and kiss, it was the lack of contact. The lack of companionship. He’d never felt as alone, as pathetic, as inhuman as he did while riding out a rut by himself.
But his rut’s coming and that means he has to get Buck out of the way for a few days.
It’s so disturbing, Shannon had said, after the first time when she’d originally said she was up for it but then had changed her mind in the middle. It’s like you’re less than human.
He can’t expose Buck to that.
Abuela agrees to take Christopher, as always, so that’s easily dealt with. Buck, less so.
“Hey, I saw you used up some of your vacation days,” Buck notes as they finish lunch on the couch. “Something I should know about?”
His tone is perfectly light, easy, unsuspecting.
Eddie swallows, standing up and carrying the plates over to the kitchen. “Uh, yeah, I—it’s nothing big, I’m just going to be—kind of under the weather, so.”
“Should I help? Anything you need?”
“Nope, actually, I was hoping you could—” Eddie takes a deep breath and turns to face him.
Buck’s seen a werewolf, once, the first time when Christopher accidentally transformed in front of Buck and Eddie had to rush home to get his yippy puppy child under control. Buck was cool with it, he laughed and scratched behind Christopher’s ears. He knows the truth. He’s not going to freak out.
“I was thinking it might be best if you stayed at your place, for the next few days.”
Buck’s brow furrows and he shifts to sit on the arm of the couch, elbows on his knees, facing Eddie. “Everything okay?”
No, it’s not okay. The itch under his skin is stronger, growing every time he’s near Buck, and it’s only going to be another couple of days before he’s helpless and sweating against his sheets like—like—
And God he wants Buck, he wants him so badly, wants Buck’s scent all over him, wants to drown in it and to have Buck smell like him, wants Buck to smell like pack and mate. He wants his mouth on Buck, wants inside Buck, in a way he hasn’t done before.
You can’t, he tells himself viciously. That’s not how this works. Buck doesn’t want that, and furthermore, Buck doesn’t deserve that. Eddie’s not an idiot, he knows Buck has asked questions, he’s got that brain that loves to learn, churns with random facts and information, but collecting random facts about your werewolf boyfriend is very different from having to deal with the reality of it, up close and intensely personal.
“My, uh…” Eddie shifts his weight. “My rut is coming up.”
Buck stares at him, blue gaze steady. “Okay.”
Eddie’s surprised the guy isn’t already packing his bags. “It’s not like—it’s just this stupid—hormone, thing.” He takes a deep breath. “Usually I have Christopher stay with abuela. I don’t want him to see me like that. You don’t want to see me like that.”
Buck tilts his head. “I don’t want to see you like that? Or you don’t want me to see you like that?”
Eddie swallows, shame clawing at the inside of his throat. He can’t answer. He doesn’t know how to.
Buck stands, reaches for him. “Hey.” His voice is soft, like Eddie’s a deer that might spook. “What do you want, when you’re all… what do you need? Do you need me to be here? Because whatever you want, that’s what I want.”
Eddie’s already shaking his head. “You can’t want this. I’m—I hold back, when we have sex. I’m not going to turn into—some crazy possessive jerk who chains you to the bed or anything, not like that, it’s just—my body, it’s going to—um. Stuff, happens. And I’m really—werewolf stamina’s pretty intense. I’ll just want to—”
Just fucking say it, Diaz. Spit it out.
“You’re my mate,” he grits out.
“Wow, way to make it sound special,” Buck replies.
“No, I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. But—my wolf doesn’t see you as my boyfriend, it sees you as my mate. And I’m going to want to mate you. Scent you. Be all over you, constantly.”
“That sure does sound awful,” Buck says, deadpan.
“It is,” Eddie growls out. “Buck, you don’t want to be around me when I’m…”
“When you’re what?” Buck’s voice is soft, too soft, Eddie will break under such softness.
He knows that what he’s going to say is going to upset Buck but he can’t seem to stop cracking open, everything spilling out of him too fast too hot— “When I’m a monster.”
Buck looks miserable, which is pretty fucking ironic because that’s how Eddie feels. “Is that what you fucking think of yourself?”
“It’s what I am.”
“Eddie—Jesus fuck.” Buck runs a hand through his hair. “Is that why you won’t—I thought it was me.”
That brings Eddie up short. “What do you mean?”
Buck shrugs. “I thought you—I mean I’ve been pretty obvious I’m into it, I figured you thought I was—that I’d crossed a line and been disrespectful and you just didn’t want to share that… side of yourself.”
It never occurred to him that Buck would think that this had anything to do with him, but then, Buck’s pretty good at the whole lack of self-worth thing too.
“Of course I don’t want to share it, Buck, you shouldn’t have to deal with it.”
“Whoa, whoa.” Buck folds his arms. “Would you ever hurt me?”
“What? No.” The very idea makes him recoil, makes him sick.
“Would you ignore me if I ever told you to stop, or that I didn’t want it?”
“No, fuck, you know I wouldn’t—”
“I do know,” Buck cuts him off. “I know I’m safe with you, Eddie. And if I’m safe with you then what the hell else could I possibly worry about?”
Eddie holds up his hand, showing off his claws as they unsheathe.
Buck bursts out laughing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—Eddie, do you really not get it? I think it’s hot. I think you’re sexy.”
“I’m aware.” He’s noticed, given that Buck tends to stare at him and blow him and fuck him on a regular basis.
“No, you’re not, dumbass, I don’t mean just you. I mean… the wolf… thing.” Buck gestures lamely.
“Okay, let’s go back to the part where I’m…”
“You’re not a monster—and even if you were, okay, then call me a monsterfucker, Eddie, what about this is not getting through your head?” Buck takes Eddie’s face in his hands. “I find you sexy. I want you to fuck me. The way you are now, or all wolfed-out, I want…”
A look slides into Buck’s eyes, and Eddie knows that look. He sees it every time he walks out of the shower, skin still a little damp, towel slung low on his hips, and finds Buck open-mouthed gaping at him.
Buck swallows. “I want it.”
“You say that now…”
“Eddie. We’ve been dating for six months. I was in love with you way before that. I knew the whole time there was stuff—and I didn’t, I don’t, want you to hide it, I want all of you.”
He can’t look Buck in the eye. He’s hot all over and not in the fun bedroom kind of way, more in the get it together Diaz kind of way.
As if he can sense it, Buck leans in, presses their foreheads together. Eddie closes his eyes, brings his hands up and wraps them around Buck’s wrists. He can hear Buck’s heartbeat, steady and true, not a single skip. He can smell Buck, the stupid fancy organic coconut shampoo he likes, and the salt of his skin, and the warm spicy scent that he gets when they’re together sometimes—it’s not happiness exactly, it’s not lust, it’s something Eddie doesn’t even have a name for.
Shannon didn’t want all of him. She thought the wolf was something to put up with, something to endure, not something to accept—and certainly not something to desire. How can Buck want that?
He shudders, tilts his head and presses his face into Buck’s neck before he can stop himself, feels that warm spicy scent spike. He’s so close to his rut, and he wants so badly, but he can’t—
He realizes, belatedly, that he’s hitching his hips a little, that he’s swelling in his pants, and Buck’s responding, pressing himself against Eddie, his heartbeat tearing it up inside his chest. “How much longer until it hits?”
Eddie swallows. He knows he should pull away, but he can’t seem to make himself, can’t get his body under control. That’s part of what he hates about this whole thing, not being in control anymore. “I thought I had a couple of days but… you’re…”
He licks Buck’s neck, has to taste the warm scent that’s growing steadily stronger, and Buck shudders all over. Eddie groans, mashes his face into Buck’s neck, breathes in deep. “Fuck you’re making it—might be tomorrow.”
Might even be now, if Eddie doesn’t get himself back under fucking control and takes a step back. Buck smells so good, smells like mate, and Eddie wants him so fucking badly.
“Okay, okay.” Buck steps back and Eddie’s wolf fucking whines inside his chest. “You got the time off, I’ll just take it off too, it’ll be fine. Chris is already going to be with your abuela, I mean—I have sick days and vacation days saved up. No problem.”
Eddie doesn’t understand how this is so easy for Buck, how he’s just going to call off work to hole up with Eddie for three days to get his brains fucked out and there doesn’t seem to be anything about that fact that’s difficult for Buck to compute.
“Are you sure?”
God, he wants Buck, he wants him so bad, Buck will taste and sound and smell so sweet, Eddie’s practically salivating, but he wants to know—he doesn’t want Buck to have any doubts.
Buck’s eyes are dark and now, now Eddie can smell that distinct, musky scent of lust. “Trust me, Eddie, I’m really fucking sure.”
Okay. Okay. They can do this. Eddie can do this. “Um. We should—get supplies, then.”
He loves Buck, he loves him beyond just about anything except his son, and he wants to do this right.
There’s still that edge to Eddie, movements in his limbs like he’s prowling rather than walking, that too-bright glint in his eye, but Buck can tell after their conversation that something in him is soothed. He stops looking guilty, stops jumping at small noises, stops glancing at Buck like he expects him to run out the door.
They get supplies, and drop Chris off at abeula’s, and honestly the rest of the night is pretty normal. They watch some television, eat leftovers from dinner the night before, shoot the shit over a couple beers, and go to bed.
In the morning, Buck wakes up to Eddie completely plastered to him and hot enough that if Buck didn’t know better he’d fear the guy was running a temperature. He’s hard against Buck’s hip, thicker around the base, and Buck shivers in anticipation because he knows that this time, Eddie won’t be ducking into the bathroom to hide it, to deal with his particular anatomy with shame and guilt.
Buck’s mouth waters and he shifts a little to see Eddie’s face, which makes Eddie let out a low sleepy growl and bury his nose into Buck’s throat.
“Is this it?” Buck asks. He worms his arm out from where it’s pinned underneath Eddie’s side so he can wrap it around Eddie’s back. “Is this—hngh.”
He cuts himself off as Eddie nips at his collarbone. His teeth are sharp, God they’re sharp, fuck, Buck is so ready for this.
“Yeah.” Eddie groans and starts pressing little kisses to Buck’s neck and jaw. “Fuck, you smell so fucking good, you smell—fuck. I wanna…”
“Whatever you want.” He means it.
Eddie lets out a groan that seems to ripple up from his toes, through his entire body, and then he licks into Buck’s mouth like he owns it. Hell, he does own it, Buck’s sure as fuck not going to stop him. He kisses back eagerly, skims his hands over Eddie’s blazing-hot skin, flicks his tongue over the fangs now protruding out.
He’s gasping for breath by the time Eddie lets him go, fingers blindly digging into Eddie’s shoulders as Eddie yanks clumsily at his sleep shirt and boxers.
“Hold on.” Buck laughs, tries to help. “Let me—”
Well, there goes that shirt.
Eddie lets out a pleased little growl of satisfaction and it’s so fucking cute Buck can’t stand it. Eddie rubs his cheek against Buck’s chest, nips everywhere, like a big gigantic, well, wolf, and it takes Buck a second to realize Eddie’s scenting him.
That is simultaneously really adorable and really hot. It’s crossing wires in Buck’s brain.
He tugs at Eddie’s shirt. “Hey, fair’s fair. Not all of us have claws y’know.”
Eddie pulls back and gives Buck a look of pure consternation, but he allows Buck to wrestle him out of his own pajamas.
“Are you going to be nonverbal for this?” Buck doesn’t care either way, Eddie’s not always the most talkative person anyhow—his gift for snark aside—but if Eddie’s incapable of words Buck needs to know.
Eddie visibly draws himself back together. He’s staring between Buck’s legs like it’s a fucking magnet. “Mostly. I gotta—take the edge off.”
“Okay.” Whatever that means, Buck’s here for it.
…turns out ‘taking the edge off’ means burying his face between Buck’s thighs and holy shit.
“Did you know,” Buck gasps out, his hands nearly tearing the sheets, “that you have a bit of an oral fixation?”
Eddie growls against his skin and goes back to working Buck open with his tongue. God—fuck—fuck, this isn’t Buck’s first rodeo but it’s the first time he’s felt like his partner’s trying to crawl inside of him, in a good way. If he had to guess he’d say Eddie’s chasing the scent, wolves are big on the—the scent—thing—hooooly mother of God—
It feels like Eddie’s tongue is somehow connected to Buck’s spine and is turning it into a liquid, and why the fuck did Eddie think Buck wouldn’t be into this? Sure, he might not be able to walk by the end but walking’s overrated.
Eddie moves up a little, licks at the underside of Buck’s cock, licks, fuck, everywhere, Buck’s starting to enter that part where he’s not even sure where it all is, he just knows it all feels good.
Eddie keeps at it until Buck’s vision is a total blur and he’s just moaning nonsense. This is gonna be how he dies and he is perfectly okay with that.
And then it stops, and Buck slowly blinks his vision back to clarity to find Eddie watching him, head tilted, eyes almost completely black except for a thin red ring glowing around the edge.
“You good?” he asks, his voice like sandpaper.
“Am I good?” Buck croaks.
There’s only one answer to that. “I’m great, but I’d be even better if you’d fuck me.”
They’ve never done that before. Buck’s aware why. He’s got absolutely zero problem fucking Eddie, he’s actually rather a fan of it, but he’d rather they pick positions based on what they want to do, not because Eddie’s terrified of showing Buck a particular side of himself and is holding back.
Right now, though, Eddie clearly wants something in particular, and holy fuck does Buck want to give it to him.
Eddie looks absolutely starving in response to that statement, and he crawls back up Buck’s body to snag the lube. Buck thinks maybe Eddie’s being a little over-zealous with how much he uses, but then he remembers the feel of that thick cock against his hip, thinks about the whole knotting thing, and hmm yeah maybe more is more with the lube right now.
Thanks to the extremely thorough rimming he just got, Buck takes Eddie’s first two fingers smooth as anything, and Eddie lets out a deep growl of satisfaction as he slides them in and out, making Buck whimper with the good-but-not-enough sensation.
“I’m not going to break,” he reminds Eddie, when Eddie seems content to just play with him on two fingers for the rest of the damn morning.
Eddie makes several fond noises that aren’t quite growls, aren’t quite whimpers, but don’t sound quite like anything else, either. He licks a long stripe up Buck’s neck which really probably shouldn’t be as hot as it is. “I want to take care of you.”
“Trust me, I am feeling very taken care of right now.”
Eddie nips at the bolt of Buck’s jaw. “It’s—it’s going to be a lot. I don’t want to—I can’t hurt you. I won’t hurt you. Let me just—take care of you, okay? I wanna take care of you.”
Eddie’s words are slurring just the tiniest bit, whatever high he got from Buck’s skin and scent is starting to wear off again, making him needy. He’ll go nonverbal again soon, Buck’s sure, so Buck wraps his hand around the back of Eddie’s neck and pulls him into a kiss.
“Okay,” he whispers when they pull apart, his lips brushing up against Eddie’s as he speaks. “Okay, whatever you want, I know you’ll take care of me.”
Eddie’s response is to kiss him again, stealing Buck’s breath away as he adds a third finger and Buck tries not to melt right through the damn mattress. Usually this would be when dicks get involved, neither of them are all that shy and three fingers tends to do the trick—but instead, Eddie continues to play with him until he adds a fourth goddamn finger.
Buck is not exactly proud of the noise he makes, but who can blame him? “’M gonna—fuck, Eddie, ‘m gonna come if you—”
Eddie growls, his eyes glowing red, and he latches onto one of Buck’s nipples, sucking the biggest goddamn hickey there. It feels good, fuck it feels good, but it has just enough pain lurking around the edges to draw Buck back from the edge.
“You’re not going to come,” Eddie informs him. He licks at the spot he just bruised, as if in apology. “Not until you’re stuffed with my knot.”
That is the hottest goddamn sentence Buck’s ever heard and his cock spurts, more than ready to get on with things and reach that part of the proceedings. He has to kiss Eddie again after that, and Eddie seems… surprised, almost, as if he thought saying that would upset Buck. For a moment he seems to forget that there’s another purpose to this and he presses himself against Buck, every inch of them together, warm and soft, and Eddie kisses him like that’s all he’s made for.
Buck really doesn’t understand how Eddie could ever think he was awful. Not when he kisses Buck sweet and loving like this, with his entire body like he wants to pour all of himself into it.
Buck wraps his arms around Eddie’s neck, his leg around Eddie’s waist, and keeps kissing him, sucking on Eddie’s tongue and swallowing the little growls Eddie makes. Eddie kisses him so well, just the way Buck likes it, and he took the time to figure out exactly how that is, how could that possibly make Eddie a monster?
Also, Buck’s not gonna lie, the sharp teeth are hot.
He wants to banish the last bit of hesitance from Eddie’s mind, so he reaches down, finds Eddie’s cock and strokes it lightly, just tight enough to show he’s serious about this but still gentle enough to tease. It’s not like they’ve never fucked before, he knows what size Eddie is, even if Eddie’s never been inside him until now.
Eddie growls into his mouth, kissing him hungrily, and at last pulls his fingers out. Buck just about sees stars in his eyes at the sudden change in sensation and he squirms, arches, practically rubs himself all over Eddie to get him to get a fucking move on.
Eddie’s fingers, slick with lube, dig into Buck’s thigh as he drags his leg out, opening him even more and Buck squeezes Eddie’s cock in response, guides it into position.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, it’s good, but it’s been a while since he’s—yeah, fuck, okay, they definitely need to do this more often.
Eddie’s claws are out, ripping into the bed sheets and, well, those two pillows are goners, but he’s not using them on Buck, the roughest he’s getting there is using his sharpened teeth a little as he sucks another goddamn massive hickey into Buck’s collarbone. He whines, like it’s killing him to move this slowly, and Buck digs his nails into Eddie’s back, tilts his hips up so that Eddie’s cock slides all the way in.
“Go on,” he pants. Fuck it feels good, but he wants Eddie to move.
Eddie presses his forehead to Buck’s, his eyes black and hungry and Jesus Christ, Buck should probably not find that as attractive as he does.
And then Eddie starts moving.
It’s fast and rough, far rougher than Eddie’s ever been before, snapping his hips with precision and Buck claws at his back—he can be rough too, he can give as good as he gets. Eddie’s sniffing at Buck’s throat again, which seems to be a definite thing with him, shifting angles until he finds the one that has Buck’s entire body jerking with pleasure.
And ohhhhh fuck, if he thought Eddie was relentless before, that’s nothing compared to now. Buck bites on Eddie’s ear, desperate ah ah ah noises trapped in the back of his throat, as Eddie makes noises like he’s fucking drunk on whatever it is he’s getting out of Buck’s scent or taste or—Buck doesn’t even know at this point.
He’s also starting to become vaguely aware of the fact that he may have underestimated Eddie’s stamina. “Have you been—fucking—holding—out on me?” he gasps out.
Eddie rolls his hips, grinding the head of his cock against Buck’s prostate, and Buck fucking writhes.
The smile on Eddie’s face can only be described as feral, sharp teeth gleaming, and he looks far too fucking smug for Buck’s good. “Maybe.”
Buck gets a good handful of Eddie’s hair and yanks, slamming their mouths back together, except it quickly turns into just panting into each other’s mouths as Eddie fucks him like the world’s on fire.
“Eddie—” He’s not going to last long like this, he feels slick and filled and claimed and he really fucking likes it—he likes the fact that Eddie’s not hiding from him anymore, he likes that Eddie’s showing all of himself and letting go, and that’s honestly hotter than anything else. “Eddie, fuck, I’m gonna—”
As if it’s a signal, Eddie growls and fucking bites, right where Buck’s neck meets his shoulder, burying himself to the hilt and—and—oh holy—
This is the part Eddie was worried about, and Buck’s starting to realize now why the guy used four fingers on him. Eddie’s cock is swelling up at the base, and Buck shivers uncontrollably all over, it’s so much, just on the edge of too much, fuck fuck fuck—
Eddie twists his hips, pressing up against Buck’s prostate, and Buck comes so hard he’s pretty sure his brains leak out his ears. Eddie growls again and rubs himself against Buck, smearing Buck’s—smearing himself—okay that’s really filthy but also really fucking hot, holy hell, Buck’s cock gives an extra spurt at the realization.
And Eddie—Eddie’s knot is still in there. He’s stuffed so fucking full he can feel it in the back of his throat and ohhh fuck, yes.
“I am never having sex with anyone else ever again,” he blurts out, words panted out in between great gulps of fiery air.
Is he still coming? It feels like he’s still coming. Every shift of Eddie inside of him sends a new shockwave of pleasure through his system, and all he can do is hold on and tremble with it.
Eddie licks apologetically at the spot he bit. It stings, sure, but in a good way. Buck would not object to a bit more biting.
He stares up at the ceiling, sweaty, the smell of sex strong in his nose, and for a moment, there’s just peace. Eddie makes tiny content whuffling noises, kissing Buck everywhere.
He’s kissing Buck everywhere. He’s in his rut and he’s not a monster, he’s not an asshole, he’s just… really fucking affectionate. Like all he wants in the world is to be close to Buck, to smell like Buck and have Buck smell like him. For a moment, Buck wishes he had the power to reach back into time, to get his hands on anyone who ever made Eddie feel less-than, who made him feel like who he was could possibly be something to hide and feel shame over.
And then he notices… Eddie’s knot is starting to go down, but his dick is… uh… still hard.
He squirms and looks over at Eddie. “Uh. How many times did you say we were going to do this?”
Eddie’s response is to growl and slide slowly, deliberately, all the way out of Buck until only the head of his cock is inside.
Buck realizes what’s going to happen the second before it does. “Oh fuck yes,” he blurts out, right as Eddie thrusts all the way back inside him with a filthy slap of skin against skin.
He’s gonna be so sore by the time this is all over and he can’t fuckin’ wait.
It’s starting to wear down.
Eddie can feel the edges of the rut wearing thin, the fire inside him not burning quite as bright, and he’s able to think beyond just mate mate mine pretty sweet mate good mate mine.
He’s still inside Buck, his knot going down but not his cock, and when he grinds dirty and slow, Buck moans helplessly.
“One more?” he pants it against the soft skin just behind Buck’s ear. Buck’s sweating all over and it tastes so good, salty and musky and mate. “Can you? One more?”
Buck has to be exhausted and sore, covered in his own spend and Eddie’s, sweat coating every inch of him, but he nods.
It’s quite the reversal, Eddie now the one able to talk while Buck can only make noises, and he tries to be gentle, doesn’t pull out for a full thrust but instead just keeps rolling his hips. Buck’s so tight and soft and warm around him, and Eddie presses his thumb to Buck’s rim, tugs just a little, to see him gaping open around Eddie’s cock. A trickle of slick white slides out at the action, filthy, hot, and the sight drives him a little bit wild, makes him press his face back into Buck’s shoulder and speed up his thrusts.
Buck moans, limbs heavy and useless, but he pushes his hips back into Eddie as much as he’s able. Eddie secures his arm more firmly around Buck’s waist, drags his claws through the sticky curling thatch of hair between Buck’s legs, the tips teasing Buck’s skin but not enough to break it. His other hand is leaving bruises on Buck’s thigh—more bruises, so many bruises, pretty marks on his pretty mate—and Buck shivers, moans, tries to spread his legs wider as if he could somehow make himself more open for Eddie.
“So good.” He laps at the teeth marks he left on Buck earlier. “So good for me, best mate, my mate, fuck.”
Buck squirms, cock soft between his legs—he’s only human and hasn’t been able to get it up for the past few times, unlike Eddie who can’t seem to get his dick to quit for two seconds—and it has to be overstimulating, has to be too much, but Buck keeps moving towards Eddie instead of away from him, keeps asking for more.
Eddie keeps rocking into him, enveloped in that slick perfect heat, the weight of him bearing Buck down into the mattress, as his orgasm slowly builds behind his eyes and in the pit of his stomach. Everything about Buck is fucking delicious, and Eddie happily drowns himself in all of him, idly licking and sucking at Buck’s skin. He can feel and hear himself inside of Buck, the results of his own previous orgasms slicking the way for him now, and it’s that thought that gets him coming once more, his knot swelling up for the last time.
Buck pants and chokes, eyes unseeing, a broken ah noise slipping out of him as Eddie fills him. He can feel the heat banking low now, receding, pouring out of him with this last good orgasm, and he strokes Buck through it, holds his sweet, pretty mate.
Underneath the wild sound of Buck’s heartbeat, Eddie can pick up on the drip of liquid leaking out from Buck, sliding around the knot tying them together and dropping down onto the mattress. It’s just too much to keep inside, it’s spilling out, and Eddie’s wolf practically howls in satisfaction.
He nuzzles close and basks in the scent of content that rolls off Buck in waves. His eyes slide closed. They’re going to have the world’s biggest mess to clean up later—the bedding is completely destroyed and at least one pillow has given its life to the cause—but for now he can hear Buck starting to drop off, completely exhausted, and all he wants to do is hold him.
I love you, he thinks, nosing at the sweaty curls that have sprung up at the back of Buck’s neck.
And maybe Buck can hear him, because his hand slides down to meet the one Eddie has low on his stomach, and he tangles their fingers together like it’s an answer. Eddie squeezes, and Buck squeezes back.
He falls asleep smelling nothing but Buck’s warm spicy scent.
He finally has a name for it.