kyle 'gaz' garrick send tweet

“I just– I don’t get it, Caleb; something’s wrong with her–”

“Don’t talk about her like that.”

She stares at him with a pinched expression. “That’s the first time you’ve spoken during this entire conversation, and it’s to defend her. Are you fucking kidding me?”

He’s exhausted; the one-sided discussion has run in circles to the point of collapsing in on itself. “What do you want from me?” he sighs, hand dragging down his face as he glances back at the red, flashing numbers.

“I want you to choose me,” she whispers.

He shows up at your door an hour later, heartbroken and with a bottle of cheap liquor. “I broke up with her,” he mumbles, sitting next to you on the floor as he pours you both a shot. 

You’re thankful that the glass pressed to your lips hides your smile, letting out a small cough once the sour liquid slides down your throat.  

“I’m sorry, gege,” you say, both of you knowing the words are a lie.   

You hated her for taking Caleb away; you tried not to be bitter about it, but it grew harder to hide your disapproval each time she stared at you with eyes that were just a shade off from your own.

He shrugs half-heartedly as he pulls you into his lap, letting his head fall onto your shoulder. “You’re my sister; it wasn’t a decision.” 

He wakes up half-dressed in your bed, your leg thrown over his hip as you sleep next to him. He blames the blurred lines and memories on the alcohol as he tells himself his half-hard cock has nothing to do with the feeling of your body on his.

The bright screen of his phone is what wakes you up, your breath on his ear as you watch him swipe his way left and right– mostly left, you note– through a plethora of women.

“Didn’t take you for the rebound type,” you mumble.

He waits a little longer this time before deciding to introduce you to his newest girlfriend. The faint ghost of your drunken lips on his flushed skin makes him painfully aware of how bad he needs this relationship to work. 

“It was nice meeting you.” She smiles brightly, pressing a kiss to Caleb’s cheek as she walks out of his apartment.

You don’t say anything, content to watch the movie playing on the television as he stares at you. “What do you think?” he comments. 

“Why does it matter what I think?” you ask, knees tucked under your chin as you stare at the screen.

The correct answer is that it shouldn’t; your opinion shouldn’t have any effect on his relationship. You shouldn’t have any effect on his relationship. “You’re my sister; of course it matters,” he settles on.

You don't say it out loud– you don't need to– but the question rings in his ears as you wrap your arms around him.

“I'd never ask you to choose, Caleb,” you whisper, lips too close to his pulse point as you nuzzle your face against his neck.

“You don't have to, meimei,” he sighs as he pulls out his phone, your thumb brushing against his as you grab it out of his hands.

One of his fingers shakily presses send on the break-up text you drafted; his other hand grips your hip to stop you from squirming against his thigh.

He doesn't tell you he's in a relationship this time– he doesn't have to. He can hide her from you, but he can't hide the way he sighs every time his phone buzzes or the disinterested phone calls in your hallway.

He knows you’re at the cafe before he even sees you, his body pulled towards the sound of your laughter echoing from the small booth in the corner. “I didn’t know the two of you knew each other,” he comments, placing a hesitant kiss on your forehead as he slides into the seat next to you. 

“She's a friend of a friend. I guess Granny was right; it really is a small world.”

It should be a good thing that the two of you get along so well– logically, he knows that much. He drops her off at your apartment for another movie night he’s not invited to, wondering if this is what it felt like for you to watch someone steal him away. 

After three days of radio silence from both of you, he receives the phone call he’s been waiting on– it’s just from the wrong person. She’s sobbing into the speaker as she tries to get the words out. 

“I can’t– I won’t tell you who it was, but I cheated on you. It wasn’t an accident; it was an active choice. I’m sorry, Caleb; you deserve better,” she sniffles.

He tells himself it’s anger settling in his veins as he knocks on your door that night. The two of you sit in a tense silence until you finally speak up. “She tasted like you.”

You wake up to an empty apartment the next morning with finger-shaped bruises on your wrists. An ache settles in your lower half as you slowly sit up, your phone lighting up with another text from your brother’s ex-girlfriend.

Now that their relationship is over, you don’t hesitate to block her number.

Caleb likes his current girlfriend well enough; she’s kind, very polite– if not a touch boring. He doesn’t love her, though– and no matter how many times he half-heartedly repeats the words back to her, he knows now that he never will.

He isn’t particularly attracted to her, but she looks similar enough to you that he can close his eyes and pretend he is– yet she’s different enough that no one can call him out for it.

Once is a chance, twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern- something Josephine once said to you both as kids. 

As he watches you stare at the marks littering his collarbones, he wonders if that makes the fourth time a choice.

“Seriously, gege?” you scoff, unable to look away from the faint bruise on his chest peeking out from under the collar of his shirt.

Shame settles in his stomach, avoiding your piercing gaze as he pulls the fabric up. “Sorry, Pips,” he mumbles.

You roll your eyes at him, sipping at your cup as the sound of the movie fades into the background. “When were you gonna introduce us?”

Never, he thinks to himself. If it were his choice, these parts of his life would never cross– unfortunately, though, that’s not for him to decide.

“Bring her to dinner tonight.” The words sound eerily like a presentiment– a ringing in his ears warning him of future disaster. 

He always swore he would say no to you when you asked, but all it takes is your soft hand on his knee for him to crumble.

“Okay, okay. You’ll love her.”

The air in the booth is agonizingly thick– it has been since he chose to sit down next to you. She’s glaring at you from across the table, his arm wrapped tight around your shoulder. 

“You’re in school, right?” You ask, taking a sip of your drink before offering it to him to try. He doesn’t even bother to grab the glass, his lips brushing against your fingers as he sips from your straw. 

Before she can even lean across the table, your thumb darts out, brushing off a drop of liquid from the corner of his mouth. “Thanks, honey,” he coos, her hands balling into fists at the nickname. 

“Yeah. I’m in school,” she mumbles, fork picking at her food as the two of you share a plate.

You smile widely, either not noticing or just not caring about her standoffish behavior. “That’s so fun! What exactly are you studying?”

Metal clings as she drops her fork, a deep sigh leaving her lips. “Caleb, I don’t feel good,” she lies, watching your brows pinch in worry. 

“Okay,” he shrugs, taking a bite out of the half-eaten sandwich you’d decided you didn’t like. 

She tries again, unable to hide the bite in her words this time. “Caleb, I don’t feel good, and my stuff is still at your place. Can we please just go already?”

He looks over at you, seemingly waiting for your approval. You glance at her quickly before diverting your attention back to him. “Gege, don’t worry, I’ll be fine on my own. Just take care of your girlfriend, okay?”

Right as he’s about to stand up, your fingers dig into his shirt, dragging him down enough so you can place a chaste kiss on his cheek. He leans in close to you, whispering something she can’t hear before placing several bills onto the table.

“Caleb, what the fuck was that?” she shouts as soon as the restaurant fades in the rear-view mirror. 

He sighs as if he has any right to be frustrated right now. “I don't know what you mean.”

Her fingers grip the steering wheel so tightly she can feel her bones start to ache. “You know exactly what I mean. That was fucking weird. You called her by the same fucking pet name! The two of you are weird– I mean, are you always that touchy with each other?”

“Don't be jealous; she's my baby sister. I’m all she has–”

It’s a low blow; she knows that much, but she can’t stop herself. “Except she’s not even really your sister, is she, Caleb? The two of you were just adopted by the same woman, so why the fuck are you using that as an excuse?”

It’s silent in the car as she pulls into the driveway, guilt settling in her stomach each second that passes without another shout. 

“You’re right– no more excuses,” he mumbles, refusing to look at her. 

As soon as she parks the car, she leans over, mouth feverishly pressing against his. She knows she fucked up when he doesn’t move or melt, shutting his eyes until she pulls away.

“Let me make it up to you, baby?”

Her lips mumble soft apologies the entire time they walk through his hallway, eventually stumbling into his bed. His eyes are squeezed shut, arms stiffly by his side, as her hands trail down his body. 

“Who's fucking you?” she moans, hips slamming down as she rides him. 

He swallows the name that's settled on his tongue. “Honey, please,” he moans loud enough to drown out the sound of her. 

The second she hears the term of affection, she wishes he had just stayed quiet. 

Pushing harder, her fingers pinch at his nipples as she purposefully clenches around his cock. “Caleb, I asked you a question. Who's fucking you? Whose pussy are you about to cum in?”

In that moment, something in her tone changes, her voice pitched just right to indulge his deepest fantasy.

She gasps as he spills inside her with a loud moan– more passion than she’s ever heard from him before. Paying no mind to the way his cum drips down her skin, she quickly scrambles off of him. 

“Honey, wait–” Ignoring his stuttered excuses, she quickly gets dressed; the sound of the door slamming behind her echoes throughout the apartment.

It's late when your phone rings, Caleb's old shirt draped over your body as you quickly hit accept. You don’t expect to hear his girlfriend speaking to you, at least, not so soon.

She's shaken up; you can tell by the way her breath trembles over the speaker as she explains she’d copied your number from his contacts.

“What's wrong?” you sigh, fingers playing with the hem of the fabric.

“It’s Caleb; we were–” She stumbles over the words, voice frantic as she tries to plead with you. “We were having sex, and he moaned out your name. I know he's your–”

The word brother lingers between the two of you despite going unspoken. “I know he's taken care of you, but the way he acts around you isn't normal and I just. I thought someone should tell you.”

“Thanks for the warning, really, but I promise you I’m fine– Caleb’s not someone I have to worry about.”

“You don’t understand, I think he’s in–”

You scoff, and she can hear the sound of your mattress squeaking as you move. “Look, Caleb's last girlfriend… she has a really similar name to mine, and well, I didn't want to make you feel insecure, but you look so much like her. I think that’s the whole reason he kept us apart for so long– he didn’t want me to slip up. He'll never admit it, but he's still hung up on her, you know?”

She wants to argue that she knows what she heard and what she saw, but you’re quickly filling the silence. 

“I appreciate and admire the way you tried to protect me, really, but I'd feel so guilty if I didn't tell you the truth,” you breathe out.

You’re so sincere; it's nearly impossible not to believe what you're saying. 

“Oh my god, I'm– I'm so sorry, I can't believe I accused him of–” she chokes on her words.

The fact that you’re comforting her only worsens the guilt in her stomach. “I’m sure he’ll forgive you one day, but I think maybe it's for the best that you guys don't see each other for a while– that kind of thinking isn’t healthy, you know?” 

She sobs even harder, only able to mutter a small agreement, mentally berating herself for ruining a good thing– for being jealous of her boyfriend’s sister. 

You glance down at Caleb as you hang up, gently tossing the phone onto the nearby nightstand. “Seriously, another one? Why do you even bother trying when it always ends the same?”

He ruts up into you, tears falling from his eyes as you bounce on his cock. “Sorry, 'm sorry,” he whimpers, face flushed as he stares at the spot where your bodies meet. 

“I know you're doing it on purpose now, gege. You like it when I touch you like this, comforting you when you show up teary-eyed at my door. So hard as you watch me clean your mess each time you fuck up like this.”

“Please, ” he begs, one of his hands sneaking underneath his shirt, squeezing at your tit. 

You know exactly what he needs right now, leaning down to capture his mouth in a messy kiss. His tongue pushes past your lips, licking at the roof of your mouth as he tries to taste as much of you as possible. 

A whine fills the air as you pull away, your thumb wiping up the spit that drips down his face, quickly licking it off your skin. 

You can tell he’s close, his stomach tense as your hand trails along it. “Who's fucking you?” 

“You, meimei,” he groans. His body shivers, hips jerking up as he spills his thick cum inside you.

Ignoring his whimpering, you continue to slam your hips up and down on his sensitive cock, chasing your own high. His hand slips between your thighs, pinching and pulling at your swollen clit– that’s all it takes for you to stumble over the edge. 

You gasp, head thrown back as you cum all over his length. A mixture of your fluids drips out of your hole and down your thighs as you pull away. 

His arms wrap around you as soon as you crawl into bed next to him, lips pecking along the back of your neck and shoulders. “I’m sorry, honey, really.” his voice wavers as you refuse to turn towards him.

“I just… I don’t get it, Caleb– why can’t you just choose me?”

He almost wishes you’d be angry; instead, you just sound broken. “It won’t happen again,” you scoff at his words, but let him intertwine your fingers. “I’m serious this time– it’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to them.”

You’re quiet for a moment before you turn around and look him in the eyes. “You mean it?”

“I swear, meimei.”

You let out a hum, pressing a kiss to his chest as your eyes flutter.

You’re surprised to find breakfast ready when you walk into the kitchen the next morning. Placing yourself in his lap, you smile softly as your thumb presses harshly against the bruises you left on his neck– pride filling your chest as his hips shift subtly underneath you. 

“Do you think she noticed? Last night?” he mumbles, hands slowly snaking up your body.

You shrug, lips parted as he places a forkful of food between your lips. “Even if she did, she'll never believe herself again, not when it comes to this– they never do.”

Nodding, he brings a glass of water up to your mouth, watching as it spills down your cheek as you swallow. 

He’s almost disappointed that you wipe it away before he can. “Why does it matter what she thinks?” The words are meant to be casual, but he knows what you need to hear. 

You swallow, reminding yourself that you’re a professional– this is what you get paid to do. “Can you tell me the name of the pills you took and how long it’s been?”

“I cannae remember the name, I just grabbed what I saw first. Took ‘em about an hour ago.”

You really don’t want to ask this next question. “And why exactly did you think it was a good idea to take erection pills you bought at the gas station down the street?”

His face is flushed, mostly embarrassment, but judging by the bulge in his pants, desire's playing a role in it too. He mumbles something barely audible. 

“What?”

He looks anywhere but straight at you. “I thought it’d make the wee lad look bigger. Didnae ken it would make me hard like that.”

You sigh, running a hand over your face. “The pills don’t work like that. They can’t make you bigger; all they do is increase blood flow. They don’t magically give you a monster cock or make you hard.”

He scoffs at you, and you nearly shriek when he suddenly tugs off his jeans. “Explain this then,” he says, pointing at his crotch.

You make a point to stare straight at his face– only his face. “You got aroused, that’s how it works. You must have been thinking of something that stimulated you.”

You watch as the realization dawns on him. “I was thinkin’ about comin' tae you–” You hold your hand up, hurriedly shushing him. 

“I don’t need to know.” 

He pouts at you, eyes locked onto yours. “Well, what can ye do for me, Doc?”

You close your eyes and take in a deep breath. “Once you’ve… finished, as long as you don’t get aroused again, you should be fine. The medication doesn’t prevent you from softening again. I suggest you either go to your barracks and take care of it alone or–”

You hate the way your chest burns with jealousy at what you’re about to say.  “You can try and find someone to help you.”

“Will you not help me, Bonnie?” he whispers, sending heat straight to your core. 

“Are you sure you can’t just… do this yourself, Mactavish?” You ask for the third time. 

You look over at him as tears start to form in his eyes. He’s only in his boxers, and you can see just how hard he is through the thin, wet fabric. You’re trying to focus on anything other than the sticky feeling between your thighs.

“I tried before I came to you, swear it, bonnie; it wasnae enough. I cannae take this. Hurts so bad, ah need somethin’ even if it’s jus' the tip.” He's breathing heavily, one of his hands is grabbing at your waist, the other is palming his cock

You look at him– really look at him– his pupils are dilated, and there’s a thin layer of sweat covering his flushed skin. 

You sigh, ignoring the whine he lets out when you shove his hand away. Quickly walking over to the door and turning the deadbolt before hastily removing your scrubs. 

“Just the tip,” you grumble, removing the last of your underwear before walking over to the bed. You place your hands on his shoulders, hovering over his lap.  

He wastes no time in pulling down his boxers, running the head of his cock through your folds. He lines up with your entrance, his eyes never leaving yours as he slowly pushes the wide head into you.

He’s not lengthy by any means, but he’s so incredibly thick. The stretch burns, but it feels so good as he twitches inside you. 

His head's thrown back, mouth fallen open in a silent gasp. “You alright?” you whisper, as he runs his hands along your body. He can only nod wordlessly, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes.

“Need more, please.” He tries to push his cock further into you, only for you to pull away, forcing him out of you completely.

“We can’t do this if you don’t behave. I’m not supposed to fuck my patients, Johnny. You don’t wanna get me in trouble, do you?”

“No, but, but–” he begs, wet tears rolling down his cheeks. Whatever he took has done a number on him; just a small taste of your pussy, and he’s begging so pathetically. 

Not that you’re any better– you’ve barely felt him inside you, and you’re ready to bend and break every rule that his Captain gave you. 

“What if I dinnae move it? Does that count?”

You pause, pretending to think it over. “I guess not.”

He grabs your waist and yanks you back down, your hands gripping at his shoulders to brace yourself. “Thank you, thank you,” He groans as your dripping cunt quickly swallows his cock.

You push down on his hips the second he tries to thrust up. He’s settled snugly inside you, your hole stretched wide as he looks up at you. 

Your cunt aches, begging for friction, but you don’t move, not even slightly. You’re giving him exactly what he asked for– nothing more. 

His head is thrown back against his pillow, soft noises falling from his lips as your hands roam up and down his chest. “What’s wrong, Johnny?”

You clench around his cock, and he lets out a groan. “Isnae enough., need tae feel you move, please?”

“Fine, but if anyone finds out–”

Every nerve in your body feels like it’s been lit on fire as he starts to thrust his hips up into you. His mouth’s wide open, the broken moans falling from his lips barely audible over the sound of your skin slapping against his.

He doesn't reach deep inside you; his tip can just barely graze that spongy spot inside you. That doesn't make it feel any less pleasurable for you, though.

It's not the way you tighten around him, your pretty little noises, or even the sound of your wet cunt that makes him start to falter. No, it's the feeling of you finally crashing your lips against his– something he’s wanted for so long. 

“Wait, Johnny, not inside, I’m not, mmm, on the pill,” you whine out, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders. 

His pace doesn’t slow down or falter, and all you can focus on is the tight knot settling in your stomach.  “Please, Bonnie? Dinnae think, hng, I can pull out. ‘S too much and I can feel you clenchin’ around me, know how bad she wants me tae fill ‘er up.” 

You don’t even realize just how close he is until you can feel his hot seed spill deep inside you. You go to pull away– not because you really want to, but so you can at least tell yourself you tried– but his hands on your hips keep you firmly in place.  It’s enough to make you cry out as you fall apart on his cock.  

Your orgasm sends a shiver down your spine, thighs trembling as you make a mess all over him. You glance down where your bodies are connected and see nothing but white dripping out. 

You don’t move, taking a moment to allow you both to catch your breath. He looks up at you, a sly grin on his face. “Dinnae tell a soul about this, yeah? It’s a pure beamer.” He pants, hands roaming up and down your sides.