desvelado
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There's a clear plastic container on the kitchen table. Eddie sets the bag down warily on the counter, approaches it warily, as if it's a live grenade. Which is prescient, he realizes a moment later.
It is, as the message suggested, a cake. A small one, sized so that a person could eat it in a single sitting if they were feeling greedy and indulgent. Chocolate layers, topped with a silky-looking ganache; Buck even sprinkled little curls of white chocolate around the edges for decoration. Lettering piped in bright red frosting, uneven but perfectly legible, reads, DON'T IGNORE ME, I SUCKED YOUR DICK.
Bookmarked by desvelado
15 Jun 2026
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The bruises mottle Buck’s skin, like paint splattered clumsily on a canvas. Except—the artist behind this, whoever they are, clearly went about it with intent and precision. A curator of hickeys; Buck’s pale thighs like the walls of a gallery. A thriving one, at that. It’s… a lot of marks.
Eddie wonders if it hurts. Well—he knows that part already, at least based on what Buck told him a few minutes ago. So instead, Eddie starts to wonder if it hurt. The procedure behind the photo; the act of being marked up so irrefutably.
Buck reacts to Eddie’s thumbs up message with a thumbs down.
Buck: I just accidentally sexted you dude
Don’t 👍👍👍👍 meOr: Eddie receives an unintended photo. Then he bites some thighs about it.
Bookmarked by desvelado
15 Jun 2026
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“This is a riot, not Afghanistan,” Buck blurted.
“And I’m trained Army medic,” Eddie said, stepping forward. “This is just another battlefield with a whole lot of civilians caught up in the middle.”
Buck understood Eddie’s desire to jump in and help, felt it in his very bones, and a tiny part of him was screaming about rules and regulations, but then again, how often did he ignore those? “Well, you’re not going back there alone.”
Bookmarked by desvelado
28 May 2026
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Eddie’s shoulders drop as he slips the gloves back on with practiced diligence. “Sorry, it’s not—it’s not you. My, uh… when I touch people sometimes, a lot of times, people get hurt.”
“Get hurt?” Buck echoes.
Eddie swallows and flexes his hand. “Yeah, i-it’s hard to explain, but it’s bad. It’s not… always. It’s gotten better, and if I’m concentrating, usually I can keep it from—but then if it lasts too long, or if I get distracted or startled… it’s just better if there’s no touching.”
“You know,” Buck tries, all easy, “I am pretty good at getting hurt.”
OR
buck and eddie end up on a very unorthodox roadtrip
Bookmarked by desvelado
23 May 2026
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Eddie interrupts. “Well,” he says, turning fully to their waiter, “today’s kind of a special occasion, you see.”
Sven smiles. “Someone’s birthday?” He looks between Buck and Eddie.
“It’s actually, uh, our anniversary,” Eddie says, reaching out a hand to place over Buck’s.
Buck chokes, even though all the bread is safely in the bread basket.
or, buck wants a free tiramisu. eddie has a tried-and-tested plan to get it.
Bookmarked by desvelado
16 May 2026