Chapter Text
“Babe, c’mere!” Eddie shouts from the bathroom.
He’s got that little mischievous glint to his voice, the same lilt he gets when he’s done something goofy like purchase a froggy sponge holder.
Buck just left the bathroom after their shared morning shower, but he quickly returns like a velcro puppy. Malleable to every word his gorgeous boyfriend speaks to him.
And he is gorgeous. He really is. When Buck walks back into the bathroom, he’s greeted by the frankly obscene vision of Eddie with a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. Buck is almost sure it’s only being held up by the curve of his ass.
Damn. It’s a good ass.
Why is he here again? Oh, right. Boyfriend wants something.
He averts his gaze (half-begrudgingly) from one of Eddie’s most valuable assets to another—his handsome face and oh my god-
“Eh? Whadya think?” Eddie has a million-watt smile as he turns and looks at Buck, electric razor still grasped in one hand.
He’s got… Eddie’s got… he has a mustache.
Buck’s been loving the beard recently, don’t get him wrong, it does wonders for his thighs when Eddie blows him. But it was time for a change. And Buck, for one, was looking forward to kissing all over his partner’s cheeks and neck and feeling his glowing skin again.
They even talked about it today. In the shower, as they do. Eddie said today was the day he was going to shave and Buck immediately put in a request for some alone time after their shift.
This, though, is not what he was expecting.
“You… you have-”
“A mustache, yeah! I kinda like it, I was gonna shave it all off but I stopped here just to see what it would look like and it’s not too bad, right? Think I might keep it.”
Buck is panicking.
Not in a bad way. No. Not at all. More in a ‘what the fuck am I gonna do if it’s not kissing my sexy boyfriend all day’ way. Eddie looks… he looks good. Like, really good. Like… edible. Buck’s never used that word to describe a person but it just feels so apt here.
“What? You don’t like it?” Eddie’s face drops a little and Buck realizes he hasn’t said anything in a good ten full seconds.
“No! No, I love it! I do, Eds. You look r-really good. Seriously,” Buck closes the gap between them, taking Eddie around the waist. “You’re really handsome.”
Buck instinctually leans in for a kiss and ohhhh Christ. He might be obsessed with mustache kisses now. There’s something about still getting that scratchy sensation but this time only on his upper lip that just makes– it’s such a nice balance. It makes him want to eat Eddie’s whole face.
“Good,” Eddie smiles when he pulls away, smacking Buck’s ass playfully as he exits the bathroom.
Fuck. Buck is so screwed. He’s supposed to work under these conditions? His boyfriend is pulling off a pornstache and he’s expected to function? Rude.
A whole 25 hours later, when they pile their stuff into Buck’s Jeep to head home, Eddie reaches over the console to grab Buck’s face and engage in their routine ‘we haven’t kissed all day’ makeout.
And he might be making this up, but it looks like Buck hesitates. Just for a second.
“What’s wrong?” Eddie asks, still holding Buck’s face in his hands.
God. It’s the mustache, isn’t it? Yeah, he got a great deal of ribbing from the team when he showed up to work like this, but Buck was in his corner, wasn’t he? He thought…
No, it’s alright. He gets it. Buck’s putting up with the mustache but he’s not a fan. He was probably only tolerating the beard, too—he was so excited for Eddie to be clean-shaven that he nearly dropped to his knees in the shower. And now Eddie’s gone and fucked it all up by getting a mustache.
Shit, he can’t even blame Buck. Kissing someone with a mustache can’t be the most pleasant experience, he thinks. Not that he would know, but Buck probably does. He’s probably hooked up with plenty of guys who have had mustaches. Buck knows what he likes. It’s okay, really-
“… Eddie,” Buck whispers.
“It’s fine, Buck. You don’t like it. You can tell me.” Eddie’s disappointed. Buck never lies to him. Never. Why would he say it looked good and let him go to work like this if he actually hated it? It kinda breaks his heart.
“No!” Buck yells—really, like, screams, “I love it!”
Eddie’s pouting at him. “You don’t have to lie to me-”
“I’m not lying! I– you– it’s–”
“You don’t even want to kiss me like this, do you?” he sounds like a kicked kitten.
But the next thing he knows, Buck is yanking his face back across the gearshift and kissing him like he’s going off to war.
Their lips slot together and Buck moans. He moans like he’s the one starring in a cheesy late-70s porn and not Eddie.
Usually, Buck’s lips are the top-most pair when they kiss. Eddie loves what it does to Buck when he bites his bottom lip. It’s just their natural rhythm—just like how they each lean their heads a little to the right but only after the second kiss.
But this time, that’s not the case.
Buck has slotted their lips together the opposite way, Eddie’s bottom lip trapped between his own. Which means that Eddie’s mustache is now scraping (not so) gently against Buck’s cupid’s bow, and suddenly Eddie realizes his mistake.
It’s not that Buck didn’t want to kiss him. It’s that he was afraid their location wasn’t the most appropriate for what would transpire.
“I love it,” Buck pants heavy when they separate with a smack, “Iwanttorideyourfacelikeafuckinghorse.”
“You– what?” Eddie smirks like the devil himself is controlling him. He heard what Buck said. He just needs to hear it again.
And Buck has no qualms about declaring what he wants. Especially when Eddie looks this handsome.
“We need,” kiss, “to get home,” kiss, “so I,” kiss, “can ride,” kiss, “that fucking,” kiss, “mustache.”
“You like it that much, huh?” Eddie can’t help but tease, the bastard that he is.
“You have no idea how hard it was to survive a whole shift of you like– like this. I wanted to kiss you every second, baby, I swear”
Eddie’s not going to point out that that’s usually how Buck feels anyway. He gets the point Buck’s trying to make.
Eddie dives back in for a kiss. Making it hard and punishing and hot, ensuring Buck’s at risk of getting mustache burn on his upper lip.
“Well. What are you waiting for?” Eddie flirts when he pulls back for some much-needed air.
“H-huh?" Buck sputters like a moron, sitting there with his whole mouth and lips shamelessly chafed and covered in saliva.
“Take me home, cowboy.”
And if Buck speeds home like it’s the last lap of the Kentucky Derby, that’s between him and God (and Eddie’s mustache).