“Do not wear anything pretty,” Gaz insists.
“What? Why?” It’s not like you were planning on it. You have a pair of jeans wedged under your arm, and you’re currently searching through your shirts for something medium-cute.
Your boyfriend sighs on the other end of the line. “Wear a hoodie. Maybe one of mine, with the hood up.”
“What the fuck, Kyle? Are you embarrassed of me?”
“No, I… I just think it’s for the best.”
You frown, moving your phone closer to your ear so you can hear every change in his voice. “What are you afraid of?”
“Nothin. Just wear the hoodie. Please, sweetheart.”
Fine.
You show up on base later in a stupid hoodie with the stupid hood up, bringing Kyle his stupid passkey that he stupidly forgot to grab this morning. He’s waiting for you at the front desk, so you don’t even have to check in.
You get a quick kiss and a fervent, “Thanks, really,” from your boyfriend, and then just as you’re opening your mouth to demand an explanation—
“AHH! Ahh! I fookin knew it!”
Some asshole with a mohawk is suddenly striding up to you, arms outstretched and beaming as if it’s Christmas morning.
“Christ, Soap,” Kyle groans, putting himself slightly between you and the oncoming threat, “will you just—“
“Ghost!” the man calls over his shoulder, undeterred. “Get your arse over here, Gaz finally brought that ‘friend’ to meet us!”
Kyle pulls you into his side, whispering, “I am so sorry.”
“The one from the photo?” rumbles a new voice. “Ahh, yeah, it is.”
Turns out he’s been hiding your existence from his coworkers all this time, but that didn’t stop them from glimpsing his phone background one day when he wasn’t paying attention. They’d been hounding him ever since.
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