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lady-legend-killer · 3 months

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09 / 2,350 words / sequel to gaz making things sexual on purpose and gaz being jealous

...

Gaz stares at the picture on his phone screen. It's you--a selfie, your tongue sticking out and your free hand flipping off the camera. Even more compelling is what you're wearing: a short, tight, tank top and teeny-tiny shorts. Your makeup is smudged and your hair is messy. You're obviously relaxed, lounging on some couch, relaxed and a little buzzed.

He can hardly pull his eyes away--the way your tank top is stretched tight across your chest, the curve of your neck, the expanse of your stomach, your hipbones poking teasingly out from the waistband of your shorts (fuck's sake), your long, smooth legs. He swallows. Right, there's a text message under that picture, too.

oops ignore me lol. wrong person.

Fuck that. Like he's gonna leave you alone now. He texts you back immediately.

Settling in for the evening, are we? Having a drink?

Your reply comes back a minute later.

jusssst a sip or two. maybe

Getting wrecked, you mean? he texts back.

getting sloshed, you reply. getting wrecked is a different thing lmao

Gaz scrolls back up again to appreciate the picture of you kicking up your feet, looking at the camera with those smudgy eyes. The way your shorts are riding so... so low...

"Fuuuuck me," he mutters, adjusting himself.

He's home, laid back in his leather recliner. The whole team is off duty. He's in London. Soap's in Glasgow. You're wherever you're supposed to be, he presumes. Separate ways until the next mission.

It's been a week since that night at the bar. Since you went home with Soap. Gaz hasn't spoken to either of you since. That's not unusual in and of itself--you're co-workers, not friends in any strict sense. But damn if it hasn't been eating at him--the way you cozied up to Soap. That picture is the first thing he's seen of you since you disappeared out the door of that bar. And damn if it isn't making his pants feel a hundred times tighter. He only feels a little guilty about it. Not guilty enough to stop texting you, though. And certainly not guilty enough to keep from prying.

He types up a reply: Who's the picture for, then?

But then he deletes it. Too obvious.

Instead, he texts you: Home alone, yeah? Who could blame you for getting a little blitzed?

Your reply: don't judge.

He smirks. He can still wind you up. I'm not judging you. I'm judging your man. If I were in his position, I'd be spending the night with you.

Your reply: don't even start with me.

Gaz texts back: I'm not starting anything. Just saying. You're the one getting wasted and looking for attention, not me. ;) Or do you always dress that way when nobody's around?

what's it to you? you reply.

Just filing some information away for later, he texts.

You text back: is it my job to keep your nasty mind out of the gutter?

You're the one who sent the picture, short stack, he replies. My unclean thoughts are your fault. What would your man think?

It takes a few minutes this time for you to reply. what makes you think i was sending that picture to a dude?

Why else would you let your shorts ride that low? he replies.

oops

Yeah, looks like they want to come off.

what're you implying?

Nothing a gentleman wouldn't imply.

so you're not asking if i slid them off already?

Gaz's smirk deepens. Again, you're making it a bit of a challenge here to keep my thoughts clean.

maybe you should tell me what you're thinking so i can correct your bullshit porn logic.

Maybe you should send another picture as proof you haven't shimmied out of those little shorts yet.

not that you would never ask me to take them off. because you're such a gentleman.

A proper gentleman.

Gaz swallows, his mouth dry. It's half true. In the half-constructed fantasy running through his mind right now, there's certainly no asking involved.

He scrolls back up to the picture again. He leans forward in his chair, staring at it picture. He can't help it. You're smiling devilishly, tongue poking out with the corner of your lip upturned. It would be wiser to change the subject. But he wants to keep going. Maybe he'll ask you if you're up for a phone call. No, a video call.

You in for the night? he texts you.

You reply: thinkin about going out to meet a couple friends tbh.

That gets his attention. He texts back: How much have you had to drink tonight?

just a glass of wine. what are you, the cops?

Gaz isn't buying that. Judging by your selfie--the smudged stains under your eyes and on your lips, not to mention your expression--you've had more than you'll admit.

No, I'm just a jealous friend. You're not really thinking about going anywhere, right? It's late, you're loaded, and the city isn't always the safest place. You understand that, yeah?

Twelve minutes pass with no reply. Gaz shifts, discomfort settling into his bones. The late-evening sitcom he's watching isn't any good; he can't focus on it.

He texts you again. Soap won't like it if you go out by yourself.

That elicits a reply. Barely.

nah.

Gaz keeps pressing. Bullshit. He'd get protective over you if he knew you were going out and getting trashed.

You reply within moments. and he'd be fine with us texting like this?

Something sharp and unpleasant stabs into Gaz's chest. Why do you have to bring that up?

But he keeps going. Don't change the subject. You know he only acts that way because he's afraid some jerk like me is gonna try and sweet talk you, right?

lmao whose side are you on?

Both of your sides. He's doing it because he cares about you.

you're projecting.

God damn. He doesn't like that--being called out on his bullshit. Especially not by you. He's supposed to be getting under your skin. Not the other way around.

He texts back immediately. No I'm not. I'm being realistic.

Then he texts again. Even if I were... getting sloshed and sending pictures to guys who aren't him? That's mental.

Six minutes pass. Then your reply comes in. so you don't want another one?

Gaz's heart skips a beat. Then it sinks. You've got him properly by the throat now and you know it.

He can't resist testing the waters anyway. Are you offering?

Your reply oozes smug superiority. you are such a hypocrite. so you're self-righteous up until there's skin involved?

He hates losing an argument. Makes him feel itchy.

You've got the most annoying smirk. Did you know that? he replies.

You text back: so you're still looking at that picture huh ;) check your ego before you try to check mine.

Gaz has to put his phone down and take a deep breath. He's not going to beg, he tells himself. He shouldn't have to. You should be the one wrapped around his finger right now. Shite. Who knew you had it in you to act like such a little smartass? You think you're in a position to make demands and you have the audacity to enjoy it. You're supposed to be squeamish and easy to tease. It has to be the distance and the wine making you think you can get away with provoking him. You're lucky you don't live nearby or he'd be on his way right now. He'd love to show you just how much you're riling him up.

Check his ego, huh? He scoffs.

Then he picks up his phone and texts back: Cocktease.

No reply. He checks his phone a few more times, waiting for your text back. His heart is racing and he's feeling more than a little hot under the collar. After 20 minutes of trying to focus on his shitty sitcom, he lets his head loll back against his chair. He can feign superiority all night and act like you're the one responsible for putting him in this situation. He can fantasize about what you're wearing right now, what you'd sound like if he called you up, what he'd see if he video called you, what he'd do to you if he could. Hell, he'd probably hop a plane straight to you right now if you asked nicely. He stares at the ceiling, trying to clear his mind, but it's hard to articulate what's eating at him.

He opens up his phone again and types another message. Why are you with him, anyway?

He stares at those words, his thumb hovering over the send button. Then he highlights the words and deletes them.

He scrolls up and takes a handful of screenshots of the conversation--even the thumbnail of your selfie. Then he sends them to Soap with a message: Think you need to keep a closer eye on your girl.

Soap texts back a few minutes later. she's not my girl, m8 👀

Gaz rolls his eyes. Soap just has to add fuel to the goddamn fire. He texts: Whatever, dickhead. Just keep a closer eye on her, yeah? Make sure she's not getting into trouble. That's all I'm saying.

Then he texts again, scowling. If she's not your girl, why are you two so cozy these days?

nae my couch she's on

You know what I mean. Just keep an eye on her.

r we having some big feelings rn m8? want to talk about it? lol

Shut up.

aye, feelin some kinda way about it

Keep your bloody mouth shut, yeah? We all saw you take her drunk ass home from the bar. You slept with her.

took her home, aye, to sleep it off

Don't play dumb, that wasn't all you did.

was it not?

You know damn well. What, you're gonna tell me you didn't sleep together? She was all over you at the bar.

she sure was. specially after she saw you eyeing us 😂

Gaz takes a deep breath. Fucking brilliant.

He texts back. Shut it. I wasn't looking.

Soap replies. right on m8, anythin u say. I mean I did take her home. nothing happened but she did try. wanted me to come inside n put her in bed.

So that's all that happened? Is that it? You put her to bed, really? You didn't

Gaz's thumb slips and he hits send prematurely by mistake. He curses.

He quickly texts again: So you took her to bed.

in the literal sense

Bullshit. I know how you are.

sounds like you n her have things to discuss

Shut it. Don’t try and change the subject. This is about you and your dirty intentions.

well if you wanna talk dirty intentions, she send u the pic, not me lol

Gaz is halfway through a too-heated reply when his phone buzzes. Text received. But not from Soap. He swipes back to the conversation with you and, sure enough, you've replied. And what a reply it is.

It's anther picture.

This time, your tank top is pushed up over one breast and your hand is disappearing down the front of your shorts. And the way your face is red and you're biting your lip...

Gas's heart skips several beats. Heat pools in his stomach. He stares at the photo until his vision goes blurry. It has to be bait. A trick. A tease. That’s what you are, right? A tease.

Gaz leans forward again and stares at the picture for a long moment. You're trying to provoke him, right? But what do you want? Encouragement? Jealousy? Do you want to piss him off? He can't figure it out. The uncertainty and desire in his gut are eating him alive.

Another text from Soap snaps forces him to get ahold of himself. He scrolls back to that conversation.

Soap's text: right there w/ u m8. confused as all hell.

Gaz adjusts himself. She knows exactly what she’s doing, he replies.

u sure abt that?

Gaz mulls that over for a moment--while trying to keep himself from swiping back to that second picture--when Soap texts him again.

seems like a bit of a hot mess is all lmao. u gonna talk to her?

Gaz rubs his temple with his thumb. I don’t know. I need to think about it. She’s been weird lately.

n u haven't lol

At least I can hold a conversation with a girl without it devolving into this.

devolved into somethin tho lol. u wanna send me a couple more screenshots 👀

be a lad

i'd send u mine

Shut your mouth. You know she’s been off. I’m just gonna let her sleep it off. I’ll deal with her later.

oh aye... deal w/ her 👉👌

Gas curses under his breath. His face is hot. His phone buzzes with another two texts from you and he finally swipes back.

gazzy gaz?

never mind, i just finished. going to bed. sweet dreams <3

Oh, so you're playing hardball.

Gaz stares at the conversation for a long moment, uncharacteristically indecisive. You let him assume you were sending dirty pictures to some guy--to Soap. Even made him think you'd be going out to get trashed. Or was that just a lie to rile him up, too? It worked. Made him jealous. You made him feel like a real tool, too, flirting with Soap's girl. You're a little shitheel when you want to be. If he'd only known.

He scrolls back up and looks at the spicy picture you sent him. Your one nipple poking out, your thighs spread around your hand... It's a picture engineered to entice. Cheeky little brat.

He cracks his thumb, thinking about how he wants to handle this. You obviously wanted him to think you slept with Soap. You want him to be jealous, then. You just don't know he's caught you in that little fib. He wants to make you pay.

He smirks. At least he knows you're in safe for the night. Next time he sees you face to face, it's on.

Sweet dreams indeed.

...

part 1 / part 2 / [part 3]

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