before i fuck off to la la land, i would like to add to thisā
Gaz being so vexed by the fact that he won't be your first everything. first kiss, first boyfriend, but once he finds out that you're still a virgin? oh, all best are off.
he's not letting your boyfriend have that. he's waited far too long (actually, a few months since he discovered that you're back in town and you're all grown up into this beautiful young woman) and he's gone long enough without you by his side.
he's fueled by the vivid memory of you having a crush on him. fueled by the way you sought him out and nestled by his side like a lost kitten finding its new home. he craves to have that back. he craves to be your protector, your happy place, the one whom you trusted the most with your heart.
he does everything in his power to spark to feelings back to life because you fuel a burning fire in him. but all he's gotten from you are polite smiles and reminiscent conversations all the while proving how far you've come from being that little girl who clung to his side for protection and affection. giving him no room to wedge a foot in to see if there's anything, if he can somehow push your little boyfriend to the side and wretch his way back into your heart again.
and the moment he catches you alone when you finally confront him, when all pretences are dropped, when you slip up, your eyes going a little wide, breath hitching in your throat when his gaze drops to your lips. when you don't immediately shove him away once you're cornered in your room, when a small whimper bubbles to the surface as his hand cups the side of your neckā
Gaz finally sinks his teeth in. claiming what's rightfully his your virginity and solidifying his place in your life. after that, there's no letting you go.
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Who always bitched about not being able to take girls from school on dates because they all thought the two of you were an item.
Who gave you all of his jerseys to wear to his sporting events and made you swear to come to every single one. Insisted you were his good luck charm- even if he lost. āCanāt expect me to play well when Iāve got such a good looking cheerleader to focus on.ā
Who took you to formal and took your virginity in the same night. You still have the corsage he gave you tucked away somewhere in a sentimental shoebox in the corner of your closet.
Who is always your date to weddings. So frequently so that people have started addressing the envelopes to the both of you.
Who calls you at least once a week to catch up and chat, even after moving away from home and joining the service.
Who sometimes whines his way into a video call with you. Both of you in darkened rooms, trying to mumble your way through a rushed rendition of phone sex when heās got fifteen minutes to himself on a mission. Moaning about how he canāt be fucked to sift through a porn website. āCāmon, darl. Call it a favor. Nobody can see. Donāt even have to talk. Please, darl.ā
Who still comes back home when heās got enough time off the base.
Who insists you come stay at your parents when heās at his.
Who still sneaks over in the middle of the night to watch movies like he did in high school even though youāre both far too grown. Still sneaks in through the small window in the basement despite fully being allowed in through the front.
Who practically moves his shit into your flat every time heās got a week or two off of work.
āJusā a few weeks, darl. Wonāt even know Iām here.ā
Youāve stopped protesting at this point, but he still likes to make a scene about it when you make a sarcastic snark about his commandeering the entire living room.
āCouch is a bit cramped, though. Could let me sleep in the bed. We can play house like we used to, yeah? Mums and dads are sāposed to sleep together. Mums and dads are sāposed to do loads of things together.ā
More childhood best friend!Gaz headcanons because I cannot stop thinking about him
Heās your valentine every single year. Started as his dad trying to teach him proper etiquette when he was young and just never stopped. A bouquet of flowers on your stoop and a cheap card he scratches a note into. Never signs his name. Just ends āxx.ā
He chaperoned your first real date in high school because your dad paid for his tank of gas. The guy you were keen on never called you back after. It took you until you were seventeen to realize that it was probably because Kyle was sitting on the same side of the booth as you and spoon feeding you bites of dinner.
He also ruined your first real relationship when he beat your boyfriend to asking you to formal (a full two months early). You tried to explain that it didnāt mean anything, but he just couldnāt understand. Kyle said it was for the better while you sobbed into his shoulder. āTosser canāt cope with the fact heāll always be second place. Better not to waste your time.ā
His basic training was 26 weeks away from home. He went immediately after picking up his diploma. It was the most miserable summer of your entire life. Spent primarily waiting by the mailbox for the postman to deliver your daily letters back and forth. Heās started signing off āGarrick. x.ā
Both of your families went to his graduation, but his mother insisted you were the one to tap him out. You barely recognized him, like the summer where his family took a month long vacation and he came back a full four inches taller. Heās bigger now, his shoulders permanently rolled back, but he still carries himself with that same cool ease.
He barely stays long enough to say his helloās to everyone until he takes you back to the car and lays you out in the backseat. Griping the whole way about how āyouād be in a hurry, too. Couldnāt even get away with a wank in the shower.ā And āsāyour duty to the country. You wanna thank me for my service, donāt you?ā You swear the two of you fit easier six months ago, but now heās cramped between the seats. Caged in tight. His head bumps the window each time he snaps his hips into you.
You seriously considered moving close to base when you found out he was being permanently relocated after joining the task force, but he wouldnāt hear a word about it.
So you settle on sending each other disposable cameras back and forth. Youāve got a picture of him on a mission in Amsterdam framed up in your hall. Heās got a cigarette hanging out of his big, toothy smile, posing like an overexcited tourist in front of a lingerie shop with a display window that made your ears hot when you first saw it.
He called you a few days after his incident with the helo in Urzikstan. Boasted his adventure with only a whispering tremble on the soft underside of his tough facade. Carried on until you wretched dryly into the receiver. Working yourself up into sick with worry even though he promised he was fine, just sticking to the ground for a bit.
Even though youāre seeing him less nowadays, heās still somehow coming between you and any romantic pursuits you make. You chalk it up to coincidence most of the time, but a blind eye can only be turned so far.
He seems to have a sixth sense for when youāre on a date or a one night stand. Sending texts and pictures that could be misconstrued as flirty to someone who didnāt know the dynamic at just the wrong moment every time. And there was the one time where he sent flowers to your desk at work just a few days after youād said something about a coworker getting sweet on you.
It happened so often that you eventually decided that the dating scene just wasnāt for you. Resigned to focus on work and friends. Adopting a new mantra of āif itās meant to be, itāll be.ā
Youāve got no idea why Kyle is so pleased to hear about the conclusion youāve come to. Or why heās suddenly coming back home for a few weeks.
cbf!Gaz the typa guy to fuck you in your bridal suite before your wedding (to another man) and then adamantly insist that youāre just really good friends
