omg your gekko fanfic is amazing, i love it so much
a cute jealousy plot??? amazing
can I req another gekko fic with a gn or male reader where there's some jealousy and physical touch involved?
ty if you take the request! <3
“A little bit in love, a little bit dumb”
[Gekko/M!Reader]
Words: 7K
Tags: Fluff, slight jealousy, medical terms, gay crisis, Gekko being a simp for male reader, NSFW (+18)
[I kind of went wild with this request I'm so sorry and I hope is to your liking ;_;]
--------------------------------------------------------------------
In the middle of training, you fail to notice Sage at the panel of control, regarding your fight from afar in silence.
She watches you swing from every corner, wasting many bullets and missing targets that were easily killable. The strain in your muscles, the tight expression tugging at the corner of your mouth, the wavering of your wrists when recoiling from firing; whatever training you were going under, it was hurting you in ways it would leave irreparable damage.
Warnings were made when you began with this masochist training, hours and hours put into polishing your aim and battle sense to its sharpness. And despite the multiple times Sage has called you out, you never yielded.
This is partly her fault, should she have seen the pain you were going through, actions would have been taken in advance instead of melee warnings. It is part of her duty to survey and keep in check every agent's health: mentally and physically. Foremore, mental stability is a priority to her after the many battles that have taken place; if she herself was in dire need of therapy and often tries meditation as a way to control her emotions, she doesn’t want to think how the others were fairing.
Perhaps a conversation might take place after you’re done, with the hopes you will hear her out. Watching you fight, she wonders how you’re dealing with the pain, and if there is any sort of backlash.
-------
You were having the time of your life! Although having a guardian instead of a vandal was rough, too used to the sound and precision the other gun gave you, it didn’t lessen the excitement coursing through you when you got a kill, despite missing multiple targets.
Sometimes missions could go wrong, and funds wouldn't be enough to cover for a pricey gun to carry and fight with; to master others weapons is what could determine a win or lose in the battlefield, and you don’t want to take any chances.
The recoil from the guardian was stronger than the vandal, not as close to the operator though, but somehow, your shoulders were having a hard time adjusting to this new hold, almost to the point the pain could be unbearable.
At last, the remaining bot drops broken, having head-shot it from a distance. Breathing out, and proud of the number you’ve got, you turn around to exit the range, not giving much thought about your score and brushing off strands of hair that stuck to your sweaty forehead.
You cannot wait to brag about this to Jett, giddy at the idea of impressing her and, maybe, annoying her with how far you’ve gone with the guardian. She’s always teasing and picking on you whenever your shots fail with weapons as simple as a ghost; it is not your fault she’s gotten the training way before your arrival at the protocol.
“Your frustrated expression is really cute.” Gekko commented once, a bright smile adorning his face. “It's a shame Jett has to annoy the shit out of you to witness it.”
Blushing furiously, you shake your head in hopes to clear it from the recent memory, ignoring the fuzziness and jumble of emotions it causes to your heart. Now is not the time to be swooning over a boy—whose chances of liking you are none to zero—your priority being to get better and, maybe, deal with this shitty feeling hovering over your heart.
For god's sake you sound like a high schooler.
When the doors open, you are soon to forget your mushy thoughts, facing Sage with her arms crossed and a frown visible between her brows. It feels like you’ve been caught red handed doing something you didn’t know about.
“Uh, something wrong?” you ask, biting your lip in anxiouness.
“Quite.” She replies, cocking her head to the side. “Do me a favor and raise your arms.”
Blinking, you follow her instructions, rolling your shoulders until your bone cracks. What follows is immediate pain, having to bite your tongue to not whine from the shuddering in your muscles. Gasping, you lower them, panic and confusion swimming in your eyes.
“E-Er, I'm good, as you can see.” you lie. Sage narrows her eyes. “It hurts a little, but is okay.”
The healer calls your name softly, exasperated, but keeping in the stern expression, “We’ve talked about this before. You can’t keep going like this without supervision.”
Wincing, you avoid her stare. Deciding to keep silent is the best course of action instead of talking back, since she’s right. Guilt gnaws your insides for overseeing her suggestions and demands on taking better care of yourself.
“Please, follow me.”
Leaving the guardian at the range’s weapon storage, you turn to the door with Sage leading the way. The silence enveloping you both was heavy, but neither of you dared to say a thing to break from it; you were embarrassed, and she was too submerged in her thoughts.
At the back of your mind, you find the situation odd. It feels embarrassing to feel like you were getting scolded for doing your job, sort of, and the least you want is someone witnessing the scene without context and assuming the worst.
Turning a corner, you bump into Gekko and Neon, the boy stopping dead on his tracks to not run over you nor Sage and extending his arm so Neon won't cause a domino effect. You blink at them, heart flipping inside your ribcage when Gekko directs a smile towards you.
“Yo’, what’s up?” huffing a breath of laughter, he greets. Neon waves her hand excitedly, a grin tugging her mouth.
Sage doesn't stop for a second, walking past them with an apologetic smile, “We're in a little hurry, if you will excuse us.”
“Ah, sorry Sage!” His hazel eyes travel to yours, squinting in the corners when he grins widely, “Will I see you later?”
Nodding your head, you try to tone down the excitement in your voice, “Yeah! Yes, sure, um, let me know when you’re free.”
Winking, Gekko grabs Neon by the wrist and tugs her down the hallway. She exclaims something along the lines of being electrocuted if he keeps his touch longer than necessary and the other manages to laugh brightly, dismissing her warnings.
Something about that scene tugs strings in your heart, numbness overwriting the giddiness. Your hands twitch on your sides and your lips tighten on a straight line, confusion beginning to engulf your insides.
When Sage notices you weren't following, she stands still for a while, wondering about the hold up when something more important was on the line. Her sight sets on the pair running down the hallway, just where you’re still looking at, and she can’t help but smile slightly at the silliness of the situation.
Ah, a boy in love, she thinks, to be young again.
“You alright?” Sage lays a hand on your shoulder, shaking you out of your thoughts. “Shall we go?
You nod absently, sighing deeply. Sage leads you away to the medical parlor.
Your mind is soon occupied with the many tests the healer runs on you. Some more embarrassing than others, but necessary for her to reach a certain conclusion about whatever was happening in your body. The memory of Gekko is forgotten pretty soon with the stern glare she throws your way when you try to escape throughout the process.
“Keep still or else.”
She doesn’t need to finish her threat for you to obey.
And with reason, when the report of your exams reaches Sage’s hand, you are sure whatever was inside the folder was not good. Going over the results, her eyes roam the papers at a fast pace, nervousness seeping from your pores at the mere prospect something was wrong with you.
“You are in the fine line between having rhabdomyolysis and being fine.” she determines, closing the folder. “And this is because of the hard-working training you have gone under by yourself.”
“Oh,” Touching your arm with care, you lock your eyes with her. “What even is randolosis?”
“Rhabdomyolysis,” she corrects, “to summarize, your muscles are deteriorating and dying without the proper rest in between harsh activities. There are toxic components the fibers of the dead muscles produce, and is life-threatening if it were to enter your circulation system, leading to possible kidney damage.”
The news shouldn’t have shocked you as it did, shuddering at the thought you were so close to something that could endanger your life.
“Is…easy to solve, right? Can you fix this?”
“Not as you might think, it is treatable because we've found it on time. But you have to promise me multiple things before we begin, or else you’ll be sitting out from future missions and scouting teams. Am I understood?”
The urge to refute is strong, but remembering you were at fault, you decide to accept whatever her conditions were.
“Firstly, I’ll assign you to physical therapy to deal with the damaged muscles, alright? Breach will help you out with that.” When you don't react in a negative way, she continues, “Secondly, I’ll ask you to please accept one of the seniors as your coach for your next sessions on the range and forward.”
“But-!”
“No, not hearing it.” She cuts in, “Either you choose your own coach or I’ll assign one to you, understood?”
You nod.
“Thirly, and most importantly, I’ll ask Omen to be in charge of you for mental therapy. He will help you try ways to reduce stress and hopefully, manage your emotions in a healthy way instead of tearing yourself into pieces at the range.”
Oh, you think, Omen?
Out of all the people she could think of, Omen was the most prepared for this sort of thing? You won’t go against her way of thinking, but the choice makes you doubt whether you will get along with the wraith to spend more than an hour together in a room.
Is not that you don't get along with him, rather you haven't spent enough time with him outside missions to know what he's really like.
“At last,” motioning you to sit on the bed, she fixes your short hair until you’re no longer a mess in her eyes, “If you feel any sort of way towards another agent, please remember to keep it a secret, since is not allowed these kind of…fraternization.”
You sputtered, flustered by the implication of her words.
“Is not my place to say this, but you are quite obvious with your infatuation.”
“Sage, I- no, please, don’t misunderstand things.” Trying to explain yourself is such a nuisance to your own ears, embarrassed to the core at being found out. “I don’t like Gekko like that, he’s just, he’s just a good friend!”
“I never said anything about Gekko.”
Oh.
“Please don’t tell him.” You beg, panic rising inside your chest, “Don’t tell anyone about it. I don’t want the other agents to know I-, that I-”
Sighing, she turns around to grab her device, “It is not my business, you should not worry about that.” Sage glances at you briefly, watching your expression turn sour and sensing you crumbling in her office bed over a simple crush.
But, in honesty, it goes way deeper than that.
Coming from a society where loving people of the same sex is frowned upon, openly admitting to liking someone who is a boy drives you into anxiety that is not easy to control. Having to sit in silence for the many years upcoming and hiding who you really were from everyone’s eyes has been hard; but that doesn’t deterrer you nor stop you to accept whatever fate had ready for you.
The story changes when you’re exposed unwillingly. Completely out of your control, you don’t know how to handle someone else knowing about this delicate topic.
“Why do you seem in so much distress?” She asks, approaching you with carefulness in her actions.
Biting your lip, you shake your head. Both your hands are tight in fists, controlling your breathing with heavy intakes of air to keep yourself calm and collected. There is a slight moment of consideration of telling Sage about your worries, thinking that she might understand your situation; but the fear is bigger, clouding your senses.
Sage calls your name softly, worry overtaken her features. “Hey, breathe with me, inhale, and exhale.”
She holds your hands through the whole ordeal, waiting for you to calm down and come back to your senses. It takes a long while for you to register that she's still there with you, holding your hand and rubbing your back in soothing motions.
There is a moment of rushing panic when someone knocks the door; eyes raising to see Omen hover over the threshold. Caught off guard, the wraith apologizes and goes back into the hallway while closing the door, giving you both time to compose yourselves.
“Are you alright?” Sage nudges your elbow softly, trying to get your attention.
Not trusting your own voice to come as steady as you want it, you nod, squeezing her hand holding you still. Sage brushes your short hair in soothing motions, giving you time and silence until you're better.
Once your heart stops beating furiously and evens to a normal rhythm, you nod, letting her know all is okay now and can get a hold of yourself.
“So…therapy?” you ask timidly. Sage sighs tiredly, a smile tugging at her lips for the change in conversation.
“Quite.” she replies, asking Omen to come inside the medical room. “Your mind needs to find a healthy way to let loose the straining and manage your emotions.”
Drained to the core, you ask, “Are you calling me emotional constipated now?”
“Yes.”
You wince at her boldness, but it is a fair assumption, “A little rude, but okay.”
“Omen will help you channel your energy into something less violent and helpful for your mind. While you go at it, I'll be requesting an IV for your treatment later today,” Making her way to your files, she revises them in silence, leaving you and Omen standing there awkwardly.
A few seconds pass by until the healer notices both were still there.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Sage frowns, shooing you both, “Go off, both know what to do. I’ll get back to you later when I’m finished with my tasks.”
----------------------
The way to the common sharing space in the protocol is quiet. The wraith has said nothing the entire way but to follow him to a more secluded area for privacy.
Despite the room being open and for everyone, most don't spend the time lounging here, but rather take their time to do something more productive instead of lacking off.
“So, Omen,” you begin, breaking the ice. The other acknowledges you with a soft hum, “what is it you're gonna teach me to…uh, canalize emotions?”
“I will help you with focus,” he replies. Mouthing an ok, you follow him to the couch.
Taking a seat, you watch him go around the room gathering a basket and yarn from a box in the corner. He fixes some long needles in his hands before approaching and handing them to you.
“What-”
“We're gonna knit.”
What the fuck.
He goes over a few of the yarn he's brought, choosing one with a soft gray color and knots them into his own needles. You follow his movements with a closer look, trying to memorize the patterns but futile with how fast he goes over his first row.
“Um, Omen?” you ask, “I didn't quite get what you did, do you mind doing it slower?”
“Of course.”
He detangles what's done, and this time, he goes over the motions at a slower rate to which you are thankful. The knots being made are repetitive and easier to follow, concentrating on every little detail before trying to mimic it.
Omen kneels in front of you when you settle with the tools, watching in silence how you knot the yarn to start making your first row. He leaves his needles on the side to focus entirely on helping you out.
“I’ve never thought knitting would help you relax.” you mutter. Omen grunts softly, fixing your hands position with a nudge of his knuckles. “Is harder than I thought, though.”
“It takes patience.” Taking the gray yarn, he detangles a few strands to help you ease the thread. “You get used to it, it becomes mechanical with time.”
You keep on pushing the tip of the needle until it takes part of the yarn, the first stitch, and repeat the motion with the next loose loops, finishing your first row of the knitted yarn within a couple of minutes.
Omen nods approvingly, “Good. Keep a strong grip on the needles. Here.”
His hands are cold to the touch when he covers yours to fix the positioning and grip. He guides you in slow motion the next step, to transfer the first row to another needle, a thicker one, for easier access. He’s speaking in a low voice, reverberating your insides pleasingly with how smooth it sounds.
The closeness of Omen feels strange in some ways.
Since his body is not entirely corporeal, you can feel the vibrations and smoke that tries to escape from the wrapped bandages around his body. When Omen speaks, there is an after sound that seems like he is purring when concentrated; is low, but easily detectable. Was it on purpose? Unconscious?
You want to tell him it sounds cute, but not knowing if it would cross any boundaries, you refrain from making the comments.
It is tempting, though.
“There, now you’ve got it.”
It takes you a while to know what he’s talking about, watching between the needles at hand to him in front of you. Omen doesn’t have facial expressions, so it is hard to guess what kind of thoughts are running through his mind right now.
But when he laughs softly, a blush spreads to your cheekbones to the point you want to hide your face underground. The lines of light on his face vibrate with every chuckle coming from him.
You shouldn’t be finding that attractive just now.
“Did you hear anything I said just now?”
“Yeah! Yes! Of course, I-!” leaning on the backseat, you cough embarrassed. “Um, I did not.”
Omen nods in understanding, but you doubt he actually knows the whys of the distraction. Does he even know how distractible he is?
“Let's go over it again, shall we?” when you nod, he hovers his hands on top of yours again, hesitating whether to touch again or leave it be.
When you smile, it gives him the green light to proceed with his explanation and this time, you hear the instructions and try to concentrate on his words instead of the pleasing touch of his hands.
Once the second row is finished, you think you get the hang on it.
“I think I got it!” You say. Omen nods approvingly. “Will you keep helping me if I get stuck?”
“Of course,” resting his hands on your lap, he continues, “is not always that I have a companion for when I knit. Would love to have you around for longer.”
Touched by his words, you swear to keep him company for as long as he wants you to be here.
“Maybe when I get better at this, we can do something together!”
Omen laughs softly, “It would be lovely.”
“Sorry,” a voice cuts in, making you gasp in surprise, “am I interrupting?”
In the middle of the room, Gekko stands there awkwardly, a deep frown apparent on his face, looking from the joined hands to the position he's found you both in.
You blink, surprised to see him there. Usually at this hour, Gekko spends his time at the range with Harbor to train his abilities, not lounging around the base aimlessly and lost like he does now.
Omen is the first to react, squeezing your hands before standing up. “You are not interrupting. Do you need something?”
Shifting his weight, Gekko glances at Omen and back to you, coughing slightly and mouth tight on a line.
“I thought you were going to be alone,” he says, muttering your name. “Are you going to take long?”
Looking between the needles at hand and Omen still standing in front of you, you nod, quietly apologizing for the inconvenience to both of them, “Sage has recommended me for some therapy, it hasn’t been ten minutes since we’ve begun so I’ll stick here for a little more.”
“Kay’, cool.” Gekko walks to where you’re seated, plopping on the couch and crossing his arms. “You don’t mind me waiting here, right?”
The wraith shakes his head, “On the contrary, feel free to do what you must.”
Next couple of minutes ends up with Gekko keeping silent while he watches you interact with the other, eyes narrowing whenever his hands guide yours in a complicated thread you get lost in.
Omen’s voice is soothing enough it makes you forget your nervousness of having your crush right there, concentrating fully on what you’re making. Despite your initial thoughts, the mental therapy could end up being something you could do in your free time. Because just like Sage suggested, your focus is solely on the object at hand instead of the events happening around you.
To canalize and handle your emotions better, will it really go to that length where you’ll be able to not melt under Gekko’s stare whenever his attention is on you? You know she didn’t mean your romantic emotion towards the other specifically, but rather how to deal with the whole package in stressful situations.
Looking from the corner of your eyes, you stifle in embarrassment when you cross his eyes. Gekko’s expression, sour and obviously upset, warps into a more open and happy one. Feeling cheeky, Gekko winks at you, making you falter in your action and warmness fills your face at being caught.
“Enjoying the view, pretty boy?” he teases, a grin tugs at his lips.
“Shut the fuck up.”
Gekko laughs brightly at that, leaning in to get a better look at what you’re doing. Your fingers work quicker now, pressure building the longer he stares without saying anything. And you don’t know what’s worse, having him right there sitting in silence, or rather wanting him to talk non-stop with his bad flirting and comments to make you flustered.
“How’s it coming?” Omen asks from another couch, his own work laying on his lap. Raising the little rows you’ve made so far for him to review, he grunts in approval, leaving his yarn on the side.
He kneels in front of you, inspecting the loops with carefulness. Once again, he guides your hands to the next steps, widening the size of what you’re doing. His hands feel warmer this time, softer, and you chase after the feeling when he tries to back away by taking it between your hands.
“Is something wrong?” he asks, voice uncertain. You shake your head, sending him a soft smile.
“You’re warm.” your thumbs run over his palm, fascinated with the waves of smoke coming from the bandages, “Is…really warm now, compare from before, how?”
Turning his hand around, he inspects it quietly, “Not certain.The composition of my own body is unknown, and so are the changes it goes through most of the time.”
Nodding, you let go of him, a little nervous for may have crossed a boundary right here. But Omen doesn’t say anything for a long time, his hands lay on your lap, unmoving, considering your words about whether his warmth had something to do with you or just the occasion of sharing one of his hobbies with someone else.
“So I was interrupting something.”
Gekko huffs, annoyance clear on his expression, leaving with angry stomps echoing the room, creating a bad atmosphere for both of you.
Neither you nor Omen know what set him off to be this upset, glancing between the place Gekko’s just left to each other, confusion palpable in the air.
“I’ll go get him, make sure he is okay.”
“Sure.” Stepping to the side, Omen lets you gather your things inside the basket he’s brought from the beginning, fixing your needles with care onto the side and handing it back to him.
“Is it okay if we continue this tomorrow?”
“Of course,” patting your back, he lets you go after the other agent.
Is not until you are out of sight does he sigh tiredly, starting to organize the baskets and yarns laying around.
Sage was right, your mental health was the least of your problems if you have someone as jealous as Gekko going after you. The poor thing didn’t understand Omen was able to perceive others emotions through their wavelengths and heartbeats, similar as to what Reyna does to intimidate her enemies.
Gekko’s love, or strong feelings towards you, was enough to overwhelm him. It got harder to deal with when he spotted you both knitting together, innocent as it might look, the other felt threatened by the sight of his loved one in hands with another who wasn’t him.
The animosity is something he doesn't like to perceive, he hopes whatever you do might calm him down next time for your session.
Anyway, at the end of the day, it was up to you two to figure out whatever was going on there.
He has enough with his own love life to deal with another’s.
------------------------
Finding Gekko is not that hard if you know enough about his habits, spotting him at the range with an operator and shooting bots after bots with a ferocity that makes you tremble.
An odd sight, in truth, and it could only mean one thing.
He is pissed as fuck.
Have not been spotted yet, you walk right outside the windows while admiring his figure from a distance. He is not sporting his usual green vest, only a simple black t-shirt hugging his torso in the nicest way possible. The straining in his arms is noticeable, even from where you’re standing now, his muscles are big and to die for.
Gekko's always been easy on the eye, eye-candy, as some would say. Attractive, handsome, with a pretty face and a body that makes you stare for hours and hours to not end. You hate it makes you feel nervous whenever he is in the vicinity, by just a simple glance, he has you wrapped around his finger and you bet everything he has no idea about that fact.
Killing his fifth bot in a row, an ace, you decide to enter the range, ready to face him and start questioning his behavior with Omen back then.
The opening door echoes within the place, enough of a big call for Gekko to know someone else was with him. But before you could say anything, he beats you to it, not even turning around to acknowledge whoever was behind him.
“I don’t want to talk.” He shoots one bot down. “I’m not in the mood to entertain you in conversation, Neon.”
Neon?
“Estúpido Omen,” another bot down. “I thought I was being obvious enough, but he didn't get the hint and now he's all cuddly wobbly with Omen.”
Confusion and embarrassment is written clear on your face at the confession; mostly confusion because what the fuck does cuddly wobbly even means?
He misses one shot, “Fuck! I can't even think straight now!”
Sighing in irritation, he leaves the operator to the side and sits on the floor, whining in annoyance and covering his face with his hands.
“Am I the stupid one for reading the cues wrong?” Gekko laments. “What am I supposed to do now?”
Anxiousness is the first reaction your body seems to process, making you unable to mutter a word because of the implications of what Gekko just said. There is silence hanging in the air where all you can hear is your own heartbeat and heavy breathing, grounding yourself with your fidgeting hands.
Is it weird? You think is weird, the whole situation is weird and odd and ridiculous and, your brain is going into overdrive and making you all jittery and panic and an overwhelming urge to scream gets stuck in your throat.
“I love him.” Groaning, he turns around this time, “I really love h-”
Oh boy.
His expression is priceless and quite funny; eyes wide open in surprise and mouth hanging open mid sentence. But you are unable to comment on it, panic seizing you, and mimicking his face from the sheer surprise.
Gekko has just confessed his love for you, openly and honestly.
You should feel happy about it, right? Jumping around in excitement and holding his hand while you confess your own feelings to him and then you can have your own happy ending like you’ve always wanted-
Next you know, you’re running away from the range.
It becomes something out of a romcom, where one lead follows the other while they run away. The first thing that comes to mind is Pride and Prejudice, the scene where Jane runs from the church and Darcy follows after her to profess his love and how madly in love he was with her.
The rapid footsteps behind you proves to you this is not any kind of romantic movie, but out of a horror one with how close Gekko is approaching. When you dare to take a peak you cannot help the screech of fright at seeing him just a couple of steps behind.
“Why are you following me you sicko?!”
“Because I need to explain myself!” he replies, trying to catch the back of your shirt. “Stop running, please! I’m already so tired!”
Turning around a corner you open the first door you see, cursing loudly when it happens to be a simple bathroom instead of another passage like you wanted it to be. But by the time you back away, Gekko is closing the door behind him, blocking the exit while he tries to catch his breath.
“Dios! You run so fucking fast, what the hell.” Leaving the lock on, he then begins to approach you, taking heavy intakes of air.
Cornered, you try to make distance in the tiny space, nervousness crawling on your insides with how heavily he’s looking at you. You feel your cheeks warm at the sight of his own flushed face and shirt sticking to his chest, gulping nervously when Gekko smirks.
“Eyes are up here, sweetling.”
Shut the fuck up, you want to say, but bite your tongue to not fall under his teasing.
“I won't go around the bush, since I've opened my heart to you already; although mistakenly because I thought I was talking to Neon.” Taking your hand slowly, as if testing the waters to not scare you, he leans on and lets you touch his chest, right above his heart. “Can you feel it? It's beating for you right now.”
Trembling, you clutch at his shirt, lips tightening and heart screaming with euphoria and love from his open admission.
“Gekko,” gulping down, you dare to look him in the eye, “don't, I'm—”
“You don't love me?” he asks, a devastated expression paints his face.
“No, no! I'm just— confused, I guess…” when he doesn't say anything, you decide to keep going, “I thought you…you weren't like me. I thought you liked women just like everyone else.”
Gekko blinks at your statement.
“You know what I mean, right?” he clearly doesn't. “Neon was the possible candidate to date you, and it seemed you were really close…”
Bursting out laughing, Gekko backs away, trying to calm down with the sudden fit by covering his mouth. The ridiculousness of your situation is hilarious, because how? How is it possible you were blinder than him in all aspects in the matters of love?
And to expect him, out of all the people, to like Neon? His bestie?
“Boy, Neon is not into me, as you might think.” He giggles, “I bet you didn't even know she was with someone else already?”
“...no.”
“Figures.” With the remainder of his laughter, he approaches again, this time with a more confident stance. “If that was your concern, you are safe to assume we are nothing more than friends.”
A serious stare and an open hand, he goes on, “I want to question you now, if I may, is there something going on between you and Omen?”
“Huh?” frowning, you shake your head. “Today you've witnessed my first interaction with him.”
Huffing, he rolls his eyes, “Suuuuuurely. He seems to get acquainted real quick.”
“He was just helping me knit?”
“As if!” he exclaims, “Omen was flirting with you, and you didn't even notice!”
“I don’t understand where Omen falls into this conversation. This is the first time I had an interaction with him.”
“Yeah? Doesn’t seem like it, he got real handsy with you huh.”
“What even? And why does that concern you?”
“Are you for real now?” He takes your face between his hands, noses touching and lips inches apart. Your heart jumps inside your ribcage at the closeness,and any impulse of flight evaporates with a single touch, “I’ve told you I love you, that I don’t want anything with anybody, and you ask me why does this concern me?”
“Uh, yeah?”
“Are you this dumb?”
“What the fuck, you’re so rude! Let me go!” You try to push him away, but he doesn’t move nor let you go. “Gekko, really, let me go now, I need to meet with Sage before she gets upset at me.”
“I don’t understand.” he mutters, his thumb strokes your lower lip, stopping your fight, “You’ve yet to reject me if you don’t feel the same, but all you’re doing is changing subjects or trying to get away from me.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why?” His breath mingles with yours, his hazel eyes don't leave yours at any moment, “Why won't you say either answers? I love you.”
At the touch of his lips, a whole shiver runs down your spine, seizing you to close your eyes and follow his lead. Your arms go by slowly, engulfing his neck with a tight hold to keep him in place while he moves his lips softly against yours.
It’s heavenly. Gekko tastes heavenly, with his soft lips and tongue intertwining with yours, you kiss him like you’ve never kissed anyone in your life; swallowing every noise and grunt coming from him, passion and love pouring with every move.
He breaks from the kiss, breathing heavily and cheeks shaded in a darker color; the silly smile on his face is a wonderful sight.
“I love you, tonto.” he whispers, stealing another kiss. You gasp into his lips when his hands find purchase on your thighs, roaming your sides with want until he grabs a handful of your ass shamelessly. “Why can't you understand that?”
Because up until today, it never crossed your mind Gekko would be just like you. A little bit dumb and head over heels for another man. And this time, the boy you are so in love with is accepting everything you are and more despite not giving him a straight answer.
Gekko cages you against the wall, bodies flushed together and hips slotting against yours; his hands are touching, pinching and smacking with greed every inch of your body and you don't know how to deal with the overwhelming urge to keep begging for more when his hands try to go under your shirt, feeling you up without shame. His mouth travels from your lips to your neck, sucking at one particular spot in your collarbone that has you weak in your knees, breath hitching in surprise and hands clinging onto his broad back.
Finding that leaving hickeys in plain sight of your body has him reeling in desire, Gekko dives in to keep biting and sucking on the tender skin until it changes to a darker color.
No matter your protests from taking this somewhere else, embarrassed someone might walk in, he keeps going, licking a strip from your neck to your earlobe and kissing your cheek with tenderness when you rut your hips unconsciously. His hand travels to your ass again, squeezing it with greed, and helping you guide your movements with more precision against his own hard-on.
“I've been in love with you for so long.” he confesses, whispering your name with sweetness. “I am in love with you.”
“Gekko…”
He doesn't let you finish, claiming your mouth once again, kissing you with fervor and passion that ignites something else in the pit of your stomach and awakens your own sex; Gekko decides he's going to claim you in whichever form he can right now. He can't let this opportunity slip from his fingers, not when he's waited for so long and now he's burning with an unrestrained passion.
He doesn't know where this sudden spike in confidence comes from; whether from your flustered face, whining his name in a tone that has him tight in his pants and fueling his ego or how desperately you were getting off to his touch and kisses, making him feel in power and control of your pleasure.
You hang onto his back as a life line when he begins pushing his thigh against your cock, gasping into his mouth and groaning in tandem with desire pouring through your every whimper. Gekko chases your lips, tongue making its way into your mouth and fighting for dominance until you give in, reeling in the euphoria from feeling your body and having you crumble under his loving ministrations.
The flush in your face, the soft moans in between sloppy kisses, your hands trying to find purchase behind his head; gods, what did he do to receive such a treat?
“I can feel you getting hard, love.” he whispers, he raises his legs again and applies pressure just right where you want it, moaning his name. “Just how long will you make me beg until you profess your love to me.”
Oh god, this man is going to kill you.
You grab the back of his head to help you guide his lips to yours once again to shut him up. The taste is addictive, way too good to have it once, and tongues toying with each other sends your head into overdrive.
Biting his lip, you moan his name once again, hips rolling against his leg until you both are frotting against each other in desperation for release. Gekko whispers your name lovingly, to which you swallow with greed for more.
“God, Mateo—”
You want this man to ravage you and make you sweat with lust, you want him to fuck you stupid with his cock until you can't think of nothing but him and being filled to the brim. To be folded against the mattress, to have him behind you, bending you over and thrusting without respite, any way he wants it, you need him desperately.
Feeling his hardened dick, even through the clothes, is making you delirious in ways you never thought was possible. Your own swollen member wants to be touched by his hand alone, to help you reach your climax while you chant his name in groans and moans, releasing your cum between your bodies while he fills your insides with his own seed.
“Please, Mateo, fuck me—” the boy grunts your name, lost in the feeling of your rolling hips. “I'm so close, fuck, fuck!”
“Wouldn't you like that, amor?” he teases, his hands tightens his grip on your ass, and moves you with harshness. “
At one last slide, the coil tightening in your belly snaps, the orgasm hitting you with shockwaves of pleasure that Gekko helps you ride out, keeping on rubbing against him until he reaches his own end as well.
The tingling in your body doesn't disappear immediately, your mind still clouded with the post-orgasmic experience and cock twitching with the last remaining of your cum. Your hands reach for his face, caressing his cheek with tenderness; he’s breathing heavily, eyelids low and a look that has you melting on the inside.
Emotions swelling inside your chest, you finally give in, “Oh my god, I love you.”
Full of love, full of satisfaction, you lean in to close the gap for a kiss, slower this time, tasting him to the fullest and deepening it. The sensual action of having his mouth melting with yours is a dream; sighing happily when he makes some distance and dives back in.
Gekko laughs in between the kisses, smooching your face with tiny pecks until you’re fully giddy with his affection.
“Who would've thought, huh?” he mutters, hiding his face in your collarbone. He keeps on mouthing softly your skin, leaving love bites after love bites until you sigh loudly when he sucks a hickey.
“About what?”
“That for you to tell me you love me, I had to make you cum.”
Mood shattered, you groan in annoyance, pushing him away, and pouting when he begins laughing in earnest.
“You fucking horndog, is your fault it led to this,” moving around feels uncomfortable, the stickiness of your cum drying inside your trousers was hard to ignore now. “I need to shower, I can’t go back to Sage like this.”
Gekko hums, caging you against the wall once again, “Yeah? How about you and I take one together?”
“Ha! You wish.” Trying to avoid his lips, you duck and try to crawl towards the door to escape. “Now I know I won’t be able to deny you anything if you get me in the mood.”
Bold as ever, Gekko jumps on you from behind, both tumbling down on the floor from his weight and trapping you between his arms and legs.
“You won’t escape then!” he exclaims, burying his face at the back of your neck.
“Mateo, this is disgusting! Let me go, I wanna shower!”
“Nah, boy, you stuck here with me until you tell me you love me again!”
Whining, you keep struggling against his hold but to fail horribly; but in honesty, seeing the muscles in his arm flex and tighten when trying to apply pressure was way too hot to keep missing out.
Huffing, you yield, “I love you…”
“Not good enough, try again.”
“You fucking-!”
Sage will have to wait for a little bit longer.
199 notes
·
View notes