he’s drunk and confessing his love to you, but you’re not taking any of his shit.
kyle “gaz” garrick x reader
hurt/comfort, drinking, gn!reader written by an nb, hella inaccurate depiction of a drunk person
a/n: this is my first time writing for cod so please be kind </3 if you have any critiques just let me know (gently, preferably)
word count: 1.3k
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“I’m in love with you.”
You were so focused on navigating him back to his room that you had almost missed his confession. About half an hour ago, Kyle had asked you to pick him up from the pub after he went out drinking with his friends. You asked why he didn’t want to take a cab and he so charmingly responded with, “Well, I wanted to see your pretty face, love.”
Now, he was leaning most of his weight on your shoulder as you tried your damned hardest to not let him run into any walls or hit his hips on any counters or tables. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat and kicked his door open, helping Kyle settle down on his bed.
“Is that so?” You countered jokingly, shaky hands helping peel off his coat. Maybe, just maybe, this was the setup to a terrible joke.
“Yeah,” he answered, looking up at you with a dreamy smile after placing his coat next to his nightstand. Slowly, the drunken soldier watched as the amused look in your eyes morphed into something hardened.
“What’s wrong?” He asked you, brows furrowing as you wordlessly crouched down to help him take off his shoes.
“Kyle, you’re drunk,” you reasoned, untying his laces and carefully slipping off his boots. “I told you not to have too many drinks and now listen to all the nonsense you’re saying.”
“You think I’m lying?”
“I know you are.”
The more the topic lasted, so did your frustration. You had spent years of your life pining after Kyle Garrick. He was kind, always helped you out when he was able, always made time for you, always came to visit when he came back from missions, and never let you feel like you were less than nothing when he was around. He was perfect, and that was the exact problem. There was no world in which Kyle Garrick would fall for you.
“Why would you say that?”
You could feel your heart constrict in your chest. It was almost as if he were making fun of you at this point, though you knew he would never be so cruel. Setting his boots to the side, you stood up from your spot in front of him and turned to leave. “Good night, Kyle.”
In an instant, he stood up to match you. “(Y/n), wait,” he said hurriedly, clumsily following you as you made a beeline for his front door, after you like a lost puppy following its owner.
Despite his intoxication, he was able to catch up to your brisk pace with an almost concerning ease and grasp your hand gently. You turned to look at him, his face now etched with concern. He felt like he sobered up instantly.
“It’s almost four in the morning. You should go to bed,” you reasoned with him, trying to find any way to avoid confronting his confession—if it even really was one.
“You know I wouldn’t joke with you about this, right? ‘S that what you think this is? That I’d do something like that to you?” He kept digging for an answer, pulling your wrist so that your whole body faced him. In the back of your mind, you become extremely conscious of the fact that his front door is only three feet away from you.
Kyle seemed to notice, too, because he took the opportunity to take your other wrist and slide both his hands up your arms to take a firm grasp at your shoulders.
“No. That’s not what I think, I just—” you paused and exhaled through your nose, wishing he’d just let you go, but you know him. If he’s concerned about you, he won’t let you leave until he’s sure it’ll be okay. “Like I said, you’re drunk and you’re thinking things are true when they’re not. Now, will you please let me go home so both of us can get some rest?”
He laughs softly. Not in a mocking manner, but in a sad, empathetic way.
“This isn’t some spur-of-the-moment revelation.” His hands come away from your shoulders and find themselves cupping your face. “Why do you think I want to be around you all the time?”
“Are friends not supposed to want to be around each other?”
He scoffs at the counter, a small smile creeping up on his face.
“Fine. Why do you think I only look at you whenever you enter the room? Why do you think I’ve never once liked any of your past partners? Why, in all the time we’ve known each other, do you think I’ve never had a partner, myself? Ask Price. Actually, ask anyone who knows me. You are the only thing on my mind. It’s always you, and I thought I could stay in denial for a little while longer, but I can’t.”
He takes a shaky breath and strokes your cheek gently with his right thumb.
“It’s fine if you don’t feel the same, but don’t tell me I’m not in love with you when you are the only one I’d watch the world burn for.”
You would have been melted into a puddle at this point if you weren't offended at the insinuation that you didn’t return his feelings. Still, you were convinced none of it mattered.
“Kyle,” you say gently, raising your hands to rest on his. “You could do so much better. You and I both know that.”
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s true. Letting you… love me would probably be one of the most selfish things I could do. I can’t let you do that,” you whispered, trying to pry his hands away from you. They wouldn’t budge.
“I’ll love you anyway.”
“You’re drunk.”
“You’re gorgeous.”
“See? You’re proving my point.”
“And if I tell you I’m in love with you in the morning?”
“It won’t matter.”
“Tell me you don’t want me. Look at me in my eyes and say you aren’t in love with me, and I’ll leave you alone. Tell me you’d be unhappy being with me, or something about what you actually want because I know you’re too kind to take what you want from others. You take care of people. Even just now, you agreed to take me home even though you knew I could take cab. Every time I have to cancel plans, you just smile and say it's alright like it’s not disrespectful to y—”
“It’s not like you can control when you have to go to work,” you reminded him.
“That. That sweetness only you bring is exactly what I mean. It’s one of the things I love about you most and I wish you could see it in yourself like I see you. You’re always the one taking care of me. Let me take care of you, this time. Please.”
It wasn’t until his small please that you realized tears were starting to form in the corners of your eyes. At first, you tried to speak but you mouth wouldn’t open. The overwhelming feeling of his hands caressing your face and his pleading words swirling around in your head was sending you into a state of panic.
Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself down, you said, “In the morning. When you’re sober.”
Kyle’s face lit up instantly, and the small smile lingering on his lips only grew. Finally taking his hands off your face, he slid his palms into yours and gently kissed your knuckles.
“When I’m sober,” he agreed.
“Goodnight, Kyle,” you sighed, secretly savoring the interaction.
“Goodnight, love.”
The sound of Kyle calling your cell phone was what happened to wake you up that next morning.
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it's 3:30 am and i don't have the energy to proofread this, sorry </3 anyway, I was inspired to write this by @/groguspicklejar who indirectly introduced me to cod with her fanfics. i am now extremely down bad for these boys :') if you liked this you should send her love because she slays!! ok goodnight im so tired <3 i love u
