Work Text:
Spencer strutted into the precinct looking like he was something special. His shirt was rumpled and wrinkled. Carlton would’ve had a field day if he had his shirt buttoned wrong. He was either off a fresh roll in the hay or had a fight in the parking lot. Based on the way Guster was walking in, victorious look on his face, Carlton was safe to assume it was a scuffle, and Spencer had lost.
“Has a bird finally nested in your mess of a hair? Or do they think it’s hopeless as I do?” Carlton said, nonchalantly looking at the file in his hands.
“Well, you look beautiful.” Spencer said, smiling face inches from his. Spencer didn’t have an idea of personal space.
“What?” Carlton blinked. “Very funny.”
“Your face is an A+” Spencer followed up.
“Okay, I get it. I’ll back off.” Carlton said, but didn’t manage to keep back one more killer comment. “If you couldn’t beat Guster…”
Spencer squawked indignantly. “We tied at best.”
“I definitely won, Shawn. No question.” Guster fought back.
“There are many questions. Some answered, some not. The world is full of unknowns. One of those being, who has a better ass than Detective Carlton Lassiter?”
Carlton pinched himself. He was having a nightmare or a dream, depending on where this went from here.
“Um, a lot of people.” Guster argued back. “Scarlett Johansson, Molly Ringwald, David Hasselhoff-”
“Gus, I didn’t know you swung that way.”
“I don’t know. I can appreciate a guy’s butt as much as a girl’s.”
“How progressive. I’m slightly disappointed though. We’re one romantic declaration of love away from being an old married couple. Well, a declaration and a certificate.” Spencer said, still inches away from him. “Right now, we’re more like an old married couple who can’t get it up anymore. Mainly you. You think I’ve lost my looks. I just don’t do it for you anymore.”
“You’re not as young as you used to be.” Guster looked Spencer up and down. “But you’ve still got a little something something.”
“You think?” Spencer asked, turning to look at his own behind. “Thanks, man. What do you think, Lassie?”
“I think I’ve woken up in an alternate universe where you think we’re friends.”
“I don’t think pinching works in that situation but I guess it's worth a shot.” He said smirking, reaching for him.
“Why are you here?” Carlton asked, barely side stepping his wandering hands. “I know you don’t have a case.”
“Oh, contraire, you adorable man. The spirits are sure that there is something here that we need to see, but whether that sight is your aqua eyes or the dead real estate agent I’m not sure.”
“How did you know about that?” That was classified information. It hadn’t made it to the press, or past the briefing room. “You know what? Don’t tell me.”
“I don’t need to. You already know. Like, you already know that if you gave me half a chance, I would rock your-”
“Lassiter.” The chief barked from across the bullpen.
“Um, I…”
“I hate to let you go but I love to watch you walk away. Go kick some criminal ass." Spencer said, jumping off his desk. "The spirits are telling me that you’re looking in the right direction.”
Carlton stood up, straightening his jacket, making sure he was presentable for the press conference. He looked over at Spencer in time to see him looking him up and down, making his heart jump.
"Again, that ass should be illegal."
Hopefully the reporters would mistake his flush for sunburn.