dontpickitup
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"It was in the couch," Buck complains. He prods at the arm of it, looking aggrieved. "You've gotta teach this guy not to take other people's things."
"Why is that my responsibility?"
Buck twists his neck to look up at Eddie from where he's putting the sock back on, expression incredulous. "It's your couch," he justifies, once all ten toes are back in captivity. "You—brought it into this world."
"Mm-mm," Eddie hums, lips pursed, head shaking. "I want a paternity test. That couch looks nothing like me."
"You sure? You're both kinda, y'know, square. Wide—hey!" Buck yelps, because Eddie has picked up a throw pillow and is using it as a weapon against the side of Buck's head with one hand. (The other is occupied stiff-arming his beer to keep it from spilling on his... second-born, apparently.) "You didn't let me finish! You're—inviting," Buck laughs, winded, "and—and soft, and comfortable—"
Or: Buck can't seem to stop losing things in Eddie's couch.
Bookmarked by dontpickitup
22 Jun 2026
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“Depends,” Eddie says after a short beat.
Eager as ever, Buck pushes to his elbows. “On?”
Fingers skate over the inside of his thigh, teasing, light. “On if you can get it up more than once.”
Without blinking, Buck answers, “I can come six times in a night.”
Eddie chokes on his own spit, fingers tightening over his thigh. “Sorry— six?”
Cheeks pink with pride, Buck grins. “Why? You one and done these days, old man?”
“You call me old man again…” Eddie begins, wrapping his fingers around Buck’s cock and stroking it with a loose fist, base to tip. “...And I’m kicking you outta my truck and going back to drinks with your subordinates, Buck.”
Panic flares. Buck’s hand snaps out, jeopardising his balance. His fingers find Eddie’s forearm, gripping tight enough that his nails will leave marks on the inside of Eddie’s arm. “Don’t.”
OR: A non HR approved after-work event
Bookmarked by dontpickitup
30 May 2026
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Mi media naranja. Half an orange, right? Like—two sides of the same coin, or something. A complementary coupla guys. A little silly, maybe, referring to a grown adult as a piece of fruit, but the sentiment is sweet enough.
“Hey,” Buck asks the girl beside him. “Um, Alba. She called Rosie ‘mi media naranja’. Like—half an orange? Is that a common saying in Mexico?”
“Oh, sure,” she nods. “It’s a pretty normal term of endearment. Cheesy as hell, but, well.” She gestures at where Eddie and the two women are sitting. Alba’s holding Rosie’s hand now. “When you’ve known each other that long and fit together that well… it’s just sweet.”
My most best friend. That’s what Alba said. That’s—well, that’s who Eddie is to him, essentially. And if what Eddie’s missing is a little affection in a language that feels like home, well. Buck can give that to him.
or, buck notices the lack of spanish terms of endearment in eddie’s life since his abuela died. so, he’s armed with what he’s been reliably informed is a totally normal thing to call your buddy. Operation Make My Best Friend Feel Cherished, as he’s named it on a trial basis in the privacy of his own head, is a-go
Bookmarked by dontpickitup
29 May 2026
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“Eddie—” He exhales, his hand sliding into Eddie’s hair to tug helplessly at the strands. Even he knows he’s not trying to pull Eddie away, just grasping at something to attempt to ground himself. He’s trying to still stay in some sort of control—doesn’t want to roll over onto his back, tummy up and submissive like Eddie seems to be aiming for. Eddie can’t fuck the anger and jealousy out of him, but it sure seems like he’s gonna try. “You’re like a vampire, man, fuck—”
In response, Eddie bites down harder, the movement punctuated by two sharp canines as they dig into the flesh of his throat. Buck whines, his free hand gripping at whatever he can reach—Eddie’s side, his arm, his shoulder. Eddie lets up, laughing against the skin of his neck.
“Doesn’t sound like you’re complaining, Buckley.” He kisses over the mark, open-mouthed and lingering.
OR
Kinktober day 15: Hickies (it's hate sex, baby)
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- Part 13 of Kryptonian Fictober 2025
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Bookmarked by dontpickitup
09 May 2026
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Buck wonders, suddenly, if Eddie’s on any dating apps. Or — God forbid — Grindr.
He looks up when Eddie makes a small noise. His gaze finds Eddie’s mouth first, pink and right there, before he very stubbornly reorients to Eddie’s eyes. His eyes that, suddenly, bear a heat Buck’s grown used to over the past couple of months.
“Wanna?” Eddie murmurs, tapping Buck’s hip. “After dinner?”
Heat pools in Buck’s gut, and he nods, a little dazed. “S-sure. Yeah, sure.”
Or: Buck and Eddie fuck sometimes. As friends. With a self-imposed no-talking-during-sex rule. This is fine with Buck. He’s really chill about it.
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- Part 18 of ejo + 911
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Bookmarked by dontpickitup
04 May 2026