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9-1-1 FIC: The Mustache Intervention
Title: The Mustache Intervention
Pairing: Buck/Eddie
Rating: G
Words: ~1,500
Summary: "So… what?" Eddie asks. "This is some kind of intervention?"
Notes: Inspired by the pics of Ryan Guzman's mustache. No regrets.
[AO3]
The Mustache Intervention
They're heading back from a minor fender-bender on Robertson—the first responder equivalent of this could've been an email—when Chimney nudges Hen and asks, "Should we do the thing?"
"What thing?"
"The thing."
"Oh. The thing." She considers Chim as the engine rattles over a pothole. Then: "Do we have enough time?"
"Fifteen minutes. Give or take LA traffic."
Buck rouses himself from where he's been slumped against Eddie's shoulder and asks, "What are we talking about?"
"The elephant in the room. Engine. Whatever."
Bobby grumbles, "No elephants," without bothering to turn around.
"The elephant," Chim continues, undeterred. "Or in this case, the elephant's mustache."
Eddie heaves out a sigh that ruffles the mustache in question. "Really? This again?"
"We were joking before," Chim says. And that's true—they had been joking before. Magnum PI references. A pack of disposable razors in Eddie's helmet. A Costco-sized can of Barbasol in the locker he shares with Buck. Ravi—who's back on B-Shift for the time being—offered to pick up some pamphlets from the electrolysis place on Sawyer so they can leave them around the loft. But it's been three extremely long weeks, and the mustache persists. "Now we mean business."
"So… what? This is some kind of intervention?"
Hen directs a, "Yes, definitely," at Eddie, then locks onto Buck like a heat-guided missile. "How did this even happen?"
The engine bounces and creaks as they stop-and-go past the boutiques north of Olympic. Buck shrugs and says, "He already had it when I got to Texas."
There's a short, tense silence. A muscle tics in Eddie's jaw. The details of his two-week trip to El Paso are unclear, except that at one point things got so bad that Buck flew out there for three days to play referee. Whatever happened, Eddie won in the end, because he came back to LA with Christopher.
But he also came back with… that.
"And you just"—Hen flaps a hand at Eddie's upper lip—"didn't say anything?"
Buck shrugs again. "It's his face."
"See?" Eddie exclaims, knocking his knee against Buck's in thanks. "There's nothing wrong with it."
"Jury's still out," Hen mutters darkly.
Chim says, "Cap," and half-turns toward the front of the cab. "Can't you do something? You're the boss."
"I am the boss," Bobby agrees. "And as the boss, I know department regulations. LAFD allows facial hair, as long as it's clean and neat. Unfortunately, Eddie's mustache is within specs."
"What do you mean, unfortunately?"
"He means it's unfortunate," Hen says.
Chim follows that with, "It looks like something out of porn."
Hen swings her attention to Chim and arches an eyebrow. "What kind of porn are you watching?"
"Yeah, Chim," Eddie drawls. "What kind of porn are you watching?"
"I don't want to hear about Chimney's porn," Buck cuts in, wincing. "He's married to my sister."
"They have a kid," Hen points out.
"And I choose to believe they grew her in a cabbage patch."
"We're not talking about me," Chim redirects. "Or my porn. Or how Jee-Yun was made. We're talking about the caterpillar on Eddie's face."
"There's nothing wrong with it!" Eddie insists.
"Fine," Chim says. "We'll put it to a vote. I vote no. Hen?"
"No."
"Cap?"
"I abstain."
"Coward."
"Try impartial observer."
Chim waves that off and focuses on Buck. "What about you, Buckaroo?"
Buck hesitates. Eddie, who's been splitting his attention between Chimney and his phone, stops typing and nudges Buck's arm.
"Buck?"
"It's fine."
Chimney huffs, but Eddie ignores him and nudges Buck again. "You sure about that?"
"Fine. It's not fine."
"What's wrong with it?"
Buck blurts, "It covers up your face," then puts a hand over his mouth like that came out of it without his permission.
Another silence. Eddie looks at his boots and Buck looks at his phone and Hen and Chimney look at each other. Bobby becomes extremely interested in something out the window. Ramos, who's been laser-focused on driving this whole time, continues to be laser-focused on driving. To be honest, he probably turned his headset off as soon as Chim started in. Floaters usually do.
Eventually, Chimney leans into Hen and suggests, "Maybe we should do that other thing."
"We definitely don't have time for the other thing."
"We talked about this," Bobby warns. He's still very pointedly looking out the window. "Some things need to work themselves out."
More silence. The engine lists into a left turn, and everyone lists with it. Buck lists a little too much and ends up back against Eddie's shoulder. Eddie knocks their knees together again and picks up his phone. He types something out and sends it. Immediately, Buck's phone buzzes.
"Are you two…" Hen starts. Her eyebrow makes another appearance. "Are you two texting each other?"
"Yeah," Buck says. Slow, like Hen's the one being ridiculous. "We're figuring out dinner."
Chim glances between them before asking, "What's to figure out?"
Buck holds up one hand—wait—and pecks out a text with his other thumb. As Eddie's phone buzzes, he explains, "Eddie wants baked mac and cheese but we don't have the stuff for that."
"How do you know that?" Chim asks.
"Because I do most of the shopping."
Chim opens his mouth, but Eddie talks right over him, saying, "I already told you. I can Instacart whatever you need right before we get off and it can meet us at home."
Hen blinks. "Home?"
"And I already told you," Buck continues, like Hen didn't even say anything. "They always get the wrong cheese. They substitute for the shitty, store-brand stuff and—"
"Wait, wait, wait," Chim interrupts. "I feel like we've strayed too far from Eddie's mustache."
"Gracias a Dios," Eddie mutters.
"I'm just saying, the universe—"
"—Don't start with that—"
"The universe," Chim presses. "It's back in balance. Christopher is back home. Bobby's back in the captain's chair. Buck is single again."
"What's that got to do with anything?" Buck demands.
"The only thing out of place is Eddie's mustache."
Buck narrows his eyes. "I meant the part about me being single again."
"We're tabling the mustache for now," Hen decides, and Eddie hisses Gracias a Dios again. "I'm more interested in these dinner plans."
"Hen," Bobby warns.
Hen doesn't even blink. "So, baked mac and cheese?"
Buck looks at Eddie, then at his phone, then at Eddie again. Then he groans, "Fine," like he's the longest-suffering person alive. "If—and only if—Instacart brings us the right cheese."
Eddie smiles. His mustache smiles too.
"You can't eat it all," Buck continues, as if the mustache never moved. He's a braver man than the rest of the firehouse; at least one guy has started lighting candles for protection against it. "We have to save some for Christopher."
"Oh," Chim says brightly. There's a gossipy glint in his eyes. "Christopher's not home tonight?"
Eddie shrugs. "Abuela has him until Saturday. She missed him while he was in Texas."
They're back at the firehouse now; Bobby hops out to guide the engine into the bay.
Over the shrill beep of the reverse warning, Chim clarifies, "So it's just the two of you. Having dinner."
"Yes," Eddie says.
"So, after this shift," Chim starts, batting at the elbow Hen is jabbing into his side. "After this shift, you're going home. And Buck's going to cook dinner. That you're going to eat. Together."
"Yes," Eddie says again, his voice a little sharp at the edges. "Why are you acting like this is weird? Do you and Maddie not eat dinner together?"
Buck makes a soft, startled noise. Eddie looks over at him, then flushes like he's only just realizing what he's said.
Hen stands and grabs Chim's arm. He manages to quip, "Interesting comparison," before she drags him out of the engine.
After a long, awkward pause, Eddie says, "Buck," quiet. Too quiet. "That's… I—"
Buck goes stiff against his side. He leans away, then looks out the window and asks, "Are you going to take it back?"
Another pause. Carefully, Eddie reaches over and takes Buck's hand. He keeps the touch light, like he expects Buck to brush it off.
"No. Not—not if you don't want me to."
"I don't want you to."
Eddie tugs Buck's hand until he's curled against Eddie's side again. He cups his other hand around Buck's jaw and leans in until their noses bump. "What do you want?"
"I," Buck says, swallowing hard. "I—I want you. Us."
Eddie smiles against Buck's mouth. "I want that too."
The kiss is easy and soft, cut short by a clatter outside the engine that rudely reminds them that they're at work.
As they pull apart, Eddie murmurs, "I definitely want more of that."
"On one condition."
"Yeah? What's that?"
"You shave that thing off."
Pairing: Buck/Eddie
Rating: G
Words: ~1,500
Summary: "So… what?" Eddie asks. "This is some kind of intervention?"
Notes: Inspired by the pics of Ryan Guzman's mustache. No regrets.
[AO3]
They're heading back from a minor fender-bender on Robertson—the first responder equivalent of this could've been an email—when Chimney nudges Hen and asks, "Should we do the thing?"
"What thing?"
"The thing."
"Oh. The thing." She considers Chim as the engine rattles over a pothole. Then: "Do we have enough time?"
"Fifteen minutes. Give or take LA traffic."
Buck rouses himself from where he's been slumped against Eddie's shoulder and asks, "What are we talking about?"
"The elephant in the room. Engine. Whatever."
Bobby grumbles, "No elephants," without bothering to turn around.
"The elephant," Chim continues, undeterred. "Or in this case, the elephant's mustache."
Eddie heaves out a sigh that ruffles the mustache in question. "Really? This again?"
"We were joking before," Chim says. And that's true—they had been joking before. Magnum PI references. A pack of disposable razors in Eddie's helmet. A Costco-sized can of Barbasol in the locker he shares with Buck. Ravi—who's back on B-Shift for the time being—offered to pick up some pamphlets from the electrolysis place on Sawyer so they can leave them around the loft. But it's been three extremely long weeks, and the mustache persists. "Now we mean business."
"So… what? This is some kind of intervention?"
Hen directs a, "Yes, definitely," at Eddie, then locks onto Buck like a heat-guided missile. "How did this even happen?"
The engine bounces and creaks as they stop-and-go past the boutiques north of Olympic. Buck shrugs and says, "He already had it when I got to Texas."
There's a short, tense silence. A muscle tics in Eddie's jaw. The details of his two-week trip to El Paso are unclear, except that at one point things got so bad that Buck flew out there for three days to play referee. Whatever happened, Eddie won in the end, because he came back to LA with Christopher.
But he also came back with… that.
"And you just"—Hen flaps a hand at Eddie's upper lip—"didn't say anything?"
Buck shrugs again. "It's his face."
"See?" Eddie exclaims, knocking his knee against Buck's in thanks. "There's nothing wrong with it."
"Jury's still out," Hen mutters darkly.
Chim says, "Cap," and half-turns toward the front of the cab. "Can't you do something? You're the boss."
"I am the boss," Bobby agrees. "And as the boss, I know department regulations. LAFD allows facial hair, as long as it's clean and neat. Unfortunately, Eddie's mustache is within specs."
"What do you mean, unfortunately?"
"He means it's unfortunate," Hen says.
Chim follows that with, "It looks like something out of porn."
Hen swings her attention to Chim and arches an eyebrow. "What kind of porn are you watching?"
"Yeah, Chim," Eddie drawls. "What kind of porn are you watching?"
"I don't want to hear about Chimney's porn," Buck cuts in, wincing. "He's married to my sister."
"They have a kid," Hen points out.
"And I choose to believe they grew her in a cabbage patch."
"We're not talking about me," Chim redirects. "Or my porn. Or how Jee-Yun was made. We're talking about the caterpillar on Eddie's face."
"There's nothing wrong with it!" Eddie insists.
"Fine," Chim says. "We'll put it to a vote. I vote no. Hen?"
"No."
"Cap?"
"I abstain."
"Coward."
"Try impartial observer."
Chim waves that off and focuses on Buck. "What about you, Buckaroo?"
Buck hesitates. Eddie, who's been splitting his attention between Chimney and his phone, stops typing and nudges Buck's arm.
"Buck?"
"It's fine."
Chimney huffs, but Eddie ignores him and nudges Buck again. "You sure about that?"
"Fine. It's not fine."
"What's wrong with it?"
Buck blurts, "It covers up your face," then puts a hand over his mouth like that came out of it without his permission.
Another silence. Eddie looks at his boots and Buck looks at his phone and Hen and Chimney look at each other. Bobby becomes extremely interested in something out the window. Ramos, who's been laser-focused on driving this whole time, continues to be laser-focused on driving. To be honest, he probably turned his headset off as soon as Chim started in. Floaters usually do.
Eventually, Chimney leans into Hen and suggests, "Maybe we should do that other thing."
"We definitely don't have time for the other thing."
"We talked about this," Bobby warns. He's still very pointedly looking out the window. "Some things need to work themselves out."
More silence. The engine lists into a left turn, and everyone lists with it. Buck lists a little too much and ends up back against Eddie's shoulder. Eddie knocks their knees together again and picks up his phone. He types something out and sends it. Immediately, Buck's phone buzzes.
"Are you two…" Hen starts. Her eyebrow makes another appearance. "Are you two texting each other?"
"Yeah," Buck says. Slow, like Hen's the one being ridiculous. "We're figuring out dinner."
Chim glances between them before asking, "What's to figure out?"
Buck holds up one hand—wait—and pecks out a text with his other thumb. As Eddie's phone buzzes, he explains, "Eddie wants baked mac and cheese but we don't have the stuff for that."
"How do you know that?" Chim asks.
"Because I do most of the shopping."
Chim opens his mouth, but Eddie talks right over him, saying, "I already told you. I can Instacart whatever you need right before we get off and it can meet us at home."
Hen blinks. "Home?"
"And I already told you," Buck continues, like Hen didn't even say anything. "They always get the wrong cheese. They substitute for the shitty, store-brand stuff and—"
"Wait, wait, wait," Chim interrupts. "I feel like we've strayed too far from Eddie's mustache."
"Gracias a Dios," Eddie mutters.
"I'm just saying, the universe—"
"—Don't start with that—"
"The universe," Chim presses. "It's back in balance. Christopher is back home. Bobby's back in the captain's chair. Buck is single again."
"What's that got to do with anything?" Buck demands.
"The only thing out of place is Eddie's mustache."
Buck narrows his eyes. "I meant the part about me being single again."
"We're tabling the mustache for now," Hen decides, and Eddie hisses Gracias a Dios again. "I'm more interested in these dinner plans."
"Hen," Bobby warns.
Hen doesn't even blink. "So, baked mac and cheese?"
Buck looks at Eddie, then at his phone, then at Eddie again. Then he groans, "Fine," like he's the longest-suffering person alive. "If—and only if—Instacart brings us the right cheese."
Eddie smiles. His mustache smiles too.
"You can't eat it all," Buck continues, as if the mustache never moved. He's a braver man than the rest of the firehouse; at least one guy has started lighting candles for protection against it. "We have to save some for Christopher."
"Oh," Chim says brightly. There's a gossipy glint in his eyes. "Christopher's not home tonight?"
Eddie shrugs. "Abuela has him until Saturday. She missed him while he was in Texas."
They're back at the firehouse now; Bobby hops out to guide the engine into the bay.
Over the shrill beep of the reverse warning, Chim clarifies, "So it's just the two of you. Having dinner."
"Yes," Eddie says.
"So, after this shift," Chim starts, batting at the elbow Hen is jabbing into his side. "After this shift, you're going home. And Buck's going to cook dinner. That you're going to eat. Together."
"Yes," Eddie says again, his voice a little sharp at the edges. "Why are you acting like this is weird? Do you and Maddie not eat dinner together?"
Buck makes a soft, startled noise. Eddie looks over at him, then flushes like he's only just realizing what he's said.
Hen stands and grabs Chim's arm. He manages to quip, "Interesting comparison," before she drags him out of the engine.
After a long, awkward pause, Eddie says, "Buck," quiet. Too quiet. "That's… I—"
Buck goes stiff against his side. He leans away, then looks out the window and asks, "Are you going to take it back?"
Another pause. Carefully, Eddie reaches over and takes Buck's hand. He keeps the touch light, like he expects Buck to brush it off.
"No. Not—not if you don't want me to."
"I don't want you to."
Eddie tugs Buck's hand until he's curled against Eddie's side again. He cups his other hand around Buck's jaw and leans in until their noses bump. "What do you want?"
"I," Buck says, swallowing hard. "I—I want you. Us."
Eddie smiles against Buck's mouth. "I want that too."
The kiss is easy and soft, cut short by a clatter outside the engine that rudely reminds them that they're at work.
As they pull apart, Eddie murmurs, "I definitely want more of that."
"On one condition."
"Yeah? What's that?"
"You shave that thing off."