AN: Hello! I missed Gaz and haven’t done much today so here, have this!
Synopsis: Movie night with the 141. You and Gaz are always the last to go to bed.
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: Price likes his whiskey. None otherwise!
Gaz x fem!Reader and a bit of Soap x Ghost on the side <3
So much fluff and 141 family vibes <333
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Movie nights weren’t a new thing. In fact it was such an old tradition with such a convoluted history no one was quite sure whose idea it had been in the first place. All you knew was that – when on base – the 141 would crowd into the small lounge attached to the shared kitchen every Sunday night. Soap was usually the one to provide popcorn, his shelf always stocked; Ghost would find himself boiling the kettle and taking tea and coffee orders; you and Gaz always had the sweets, combining a variety from your individual stock piles and Price – Price would somehow find a way to sneak in some form of alcohol. The argument between you both was almost a tradition at this point:
“Fridays are for drinking!” You would snap, stealing his hip flask and wrinkling your nose as you took a sniff.
“Any day is for drinking.” Price would reply coyly, snatching it back.
And this would go back and forth till someone like Ghost would intervene, roughly wedging himself between you two on the ragged couch. Price and Ghost were given couch privileges because of their “bad backs” and Soap refused to let you sit on the ground because “a lass deserves better”.
You weren’t complaining. Soap would plop himself down in front of Ghost and lean back until the Lieutenant had no choice but to begrudgingly let the man sit comfortably between his legs. Gaz did the same with you, a bowl of assorted sweets in his lap – you were far more compliant in letting him settle between your legs.
“What’re we watchin’?” Price grumbles from your right, taking a swig from his hip-flask. You lean over Ghost to glare at him.
“Try not to sound too excited.” You scoff, attempting another swipe at his drink. Ghost catches your wrists easily and shoves you gently back to your side of the couch.
“Watch it, you two,” He growls and Soap lets out what can only be described as a giggle.
“I was thinking Princess Diaries?” Gaz says, turning around to look up at everyone, his cheek resting on your thigh.
“‘Princess Diaries?’” Price repeated back deadpan, “What are you, twelve?”
Gaz grins, a dangerous glint in his brown eyes, “Watch it Captain, I’m not above fighting for the cause.”
Ghost groans, resting his head on the back of the couch with a small thud. “I don’t care what it is, can we just pick something and hurry up?”
“It’s an important decision, Lt.” Soap says, moving his arms to sling over Ghosts thighs like they’re arm rests, “debate is essential to democracy.”
The man only raises a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, “Fuckin’ hell.”
“Ok well I like the Princess Diaries,” you pipe up, resting your hand on Gaz’s shoulder – who turns around and offers you a sweet. “The movies are funny and sweet and an easy watch –“
–“It’s a goddamned series?!”
“We don’t have to watch all of them!” You reach over and manage to smack Price before Ghost intervenes.
“Okay, hold on.” Soap interjects, “We cannae nae watch all of ‘em.”
You sigh, rubbing the space between your brows, “I suppose not. There are only two anyway.”
“Okay, how about this.” Gaz says, ever the mediator, “We watch the first one and if you don’t like it, we won’t watch the second. But, if I catch a single fuckin’ laugh come out your mouth Price, we watch ‘em both tonight.”
The Captain, sips at his whiskey, mulling it over. Finally, he twists the lid back on and leans over Ghost, his hand outstretched.
“We have a deal, Sergeant.”
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He laughed. You suppose Gaz knew he would, the man was always scheming. You caught a low rumble from the Lieutenant next to you as well, Soap looking over his shoulder up at him, catching your eye with a grin.
Two movies later and even the captain was rubbing his eyes; yawning. Soap pushed himself up, using Ghost’s legs as a support, stretching before offering the lieutenant a hand up. The man took it without question, and the two waved their goodbyes – Soap trailing after Ghost with a yawn.
Price followed soon after, tossing the empty flask down beside you on the couch. “Better luck next time, Sergeant,” the captain winked, leaning down to fist-bump Gaz before following the two others down the hall.
You stretch, joints popping as you sink back into the couch. “Why is it that we are the only two who ever clean up.”
Gaz chuckles, his head still resting on your thigh. “I think it’s the price we play for initiating thus each week.”
“We weren’t the ones to come up with this whole movie night thing,” you retort tiredly, eyelids heavy, “I can’t even remember who it was.”
“Neither,” Gaz gives your knee a pat and squeezes it gently, before clambering to his feet, “I’ve got it tonight, you rest –”
–“but,” you protest, attempting to lever yourself off the couch.
“Sweet heart.” Gaz looks at you with a challenging gaze, his hands on his hips, “You can barely keep your eyes open – trust me I can clean a few dishes.”
You hold his gaze defiantly for a few moments before relenting as your eyes flutter again; you slump into the couch and cross your arms. “Fine.”
Gaz smiles at your poor attempt to look grumpy, ruffling your hair with one hand, a bowl of sweets stacked into a bowl of popcorn kernels in the other. “Sleep, I’ll wake you when I’m done.
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He doesn’t wake you. You should’ve known. Instead, your eyes flutter open when his arms wrap behind your knees and back – pulling you against his chest. You shut your eyes quickly. This is nice. He doesn’t need to know you’re awake. He hums something softly under his breath as he comes to your door, pushing it open with his hip. He smells distantly of the cologne you got him for Christmas and dish-soap.
You can’t hold back the squeak that leaves you when he deposits you onto your bed. He chuckles under his breath, pulling your duvet up and over you.
“Sorry, sweetheart.”
You mumble something incoherent and he laughs again, kissing your forehead. You can’t help the smile that crosses your face. Subtly was never your strong suit.
“I think I like you,” You whisper as he’s turning and reaching for the door.
“Hm?” He turns back towards you – did he hear that right? But you’re already asleep, softly snoring, cheek pressed into your fist as it clings to the blanket. He sighs, smile tugging at his lip as he watches you. You’ll both address it one day, this feeling that’s been bubbling up between the two of you.
“I like you too,” he echoes softly, knowing you can’t hear him. He spares you one last glance and yet another fond smile before he lets the door click shut behind him.
She blinked once. Twice. Becoming aware of the hand splayed in her stomach, the thigh laid between her knees and the slow exhales of warm breath close to her neck. They didn’t do anything, that much she could at least remember, but she couldn’t help the blush that warmed her face. It didn’t mean anything that she slept so soundly. It didn’t mean anything that for the first time in months she wasn’t jolted awake. It didn’t mean anything that the firm enclosure of his arms caged her into him and it surely didn’t mean anything that she was in no hurry to escape this embrace.
