#chase dispatch fluff

“You okay?” You call from the bedroom, hearing him rummage through the bathroom medicine cabinet. “Chase, I told you that no one can see your pimple.”

“Fuck…” He clenches his teeth, looking for your moisturizer. “Babe, where’s the cream you use every night?”

“You mean my expensive moisturizer?” Snorting, you clasp on your bracelet that Chase gifted to you on your third anniversary with him. When he doesn’t answer, your concern grows. He would have a clever retort by now, but as you hear another frustrated groan, you stand up with your silk dress trailing gracefully behind you. “Chase, we’re going to be late for the award ceremony.” Peeking over the doorway, you see him dip his fingers into the tub of moisturizer that has you cringing. “You know the instructions reads ‘pea sized amount.’”

“Babe, fucking look at this!” His frantic eyes turn to you.

Your gaze unabashedly ogles him in his suit and tie that’s perfectly tailored to him. “You look fucking hot.” Smirking, you let out a low wolf whistle.

“I know, but it’s not that.” He points right in the corner of his eye as a dollop of moisturizer gets flung right on his iris. “Son of a—!”

“Come here,” clicking your tongue, you grab a wad of tissue and swat his hand away before he smears even more cream right on his eye. “Just let me handle it.” Voice soft, he finally relents with his arms falling to his side, shoulders slumped as he lets out a huff. You dab carefully at his eye and then wet the corner of the tissue before washing out the remaining moisturizer. “There, does it still hurt?”

Chase blinks warily, nose scrunched as he turns back to the mirror to check the damage. “No, it doesn’t sting.”

“You’re welcome, Narcissus.” Mumbling, you throw the tissue away, taking his chin in between your index and thumb as you turn him to face you. “You just wasted fifty dollars worth of moisturizer, it’s not a miracle fix, you know.”

“Babe, I have wrinkles.” He says as if he was telling you something dire.

“Wrinkles are fine—”

“Just last week you found a white hair on my head!”

“It’s natural.” You try to calm him down with your hands on his chest.

“I’m barely thirty!” Stomping his foot, he goes around you to the bedroom, huffing and puffing before he plops down on the bed dramatically, body bouncing down briefly.

Your face pops out from the corner of his eyes, smiling sweetly down at him. “You’re twenty six, and you’re right, that’s not even skimming thirty, handsome.”

Groaning, he places his arm over his eyes as he feels the bed dip beside him.

“Chase, come on, you’re still young, sometimes people grow white hair and get crow’s feet earlier than others.” Sighing, you decide to lay beside him, staring at the ceiling before turning to face him with your arm laying atop his stomach, and leg propped on his lap. “Y’know, we can skip the awards show and just stay at home fucking around, literally and figuratively.”

Chase snorts, blowing a raspberry and taking the arm that was over his face and then under your head while his hand grasps at the silky fabric of your dress right on your hip. “That’s tempting. But I promised Mechaman that we’ll be there.” He says in a low tone, eyes remaining on the ceiling.

“Okay,” you cuddle closer to him, cheek pressed atop his shoulder as you trace the buttons on his dress shirt. “You know that you’re still hot in my eyes, right? Wrinkles and all.”

“Just in your eyes?” Chortling, Chase side eyes you.

“Bitch, yes, because my eyes are the only ones that matter.” That gets a good laugh from him. You flick his chest, twisting up, a hand right on his chest to look down at him with a glower. “Right?!”

“Yes, right, babe, yeah.” His palm squeezes your behind unabashedly.

“Correct answer.” Your lips hover above his own, index carefully wiping at a stray blob of moisturizer on his temple. “You don’t have to worry about growing old anytime soon when we’ll be growing the whitest hairs and having wrinkles for days together.”

“You wanna grow old together?” His eyes shine, beaming up at you, hands caressing your back.

“Fuck yeah,” you exclaim without missing a beat. “I know we’d be those old couples who aged like fine wine.”

“Yeah,” The thought makes his heart sing, imagining a life with you as you both grow old gracefully together. “I’m sorry for wasting your moisturizer.” You hum in content from his apology, satisfied enough that he’s cuddling you in his own way. “You’re right.” Letting out a sigh, Chase pecks the tip of your nose. “I’m curious though, would you still jump my bones if one day you wake up beside Benjamin Button?”

“Fuck, that’s an obscure reference.”

“C’mon,” his cupped palm around your behind shakes you. “yes or no? I might need the blue pill soon.”

Sucking in your teeth, the same smile he loves so much curls around your lips. “Well, good thing I like older men.”

Chase mirrors your smile, chuckling. “I’m only a year older than you, asshole.”

“Okay, grandad.” Joking in a sing-song tone, you lean closer to him, meeting with his lips.

“Brat.” He matches your tone, holding onto the back of your head as he gently pushes you deeper for a much needed kiss.