Fics like get by with a little help from my friend

Eddie can’t see him like this. That would be it. The cherry on top of this fucked up sundae, Buck will die of embarrassment if Eddie sees him cowering in a supply closet with a raging hard-on. And if he doesn’t die on the spot, he’ll eventually have to walk off a very, very high roof to spare himself the humiliation of living with this memory. “Can I come in, bud?” “Um, well, Eddie,” it comes out like a gasp, and Buck clenches his eyes shut, trying to will himself to a different location. Maybe home, or the desert, or the bottom of the ocean. Anything will do, really. “I’d–I’d really rather you didn’t.” Eddie’s sigh is barely audible through the closed door, but Buck picks up on the drumming of his fingers against the solid wood. The sound is a comfort, even if Buck would rather be scrubbing his tongue with bleach than talking to Eddie right now. “I need to check you out, Buck. We don’t know how much you took.” Buck huffs, head falling back, thumping against the door. “Enough. I took enough.” Or, Buck eats Viagra-laced muffins, and Eddie helps him out.

Fics like get by with a little help from my friend

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