#through it

Lately, you've had a hard time getting a moment together to yourselves. There was always something to do, or someone interrupting.

So when you get half a second to yourself, quickly rushing into the nearest unlocked room, you find that your hands can't exactly detach from eachother.

Not until there's the sound of a door handle being pressed. Not that it matters to the blue eyed, it'd be all fine with him if anyone wanted to watch what sins are about to be commited. But you whip around to look at who's entering, and it's Simon.

That fucker.

"Fuck, stop-" you cough out, trying to get Johnny to stop eating up your jawline and cheek. "Why?" He groans, before his eyes flicker to the deep brown ones, staring at us.

And that bastard doesn't move an inch.

Which one? Neither fucking moves.

"Ghost." John murmurs with a sigh, before pulling away to face him fully, hands still groping at your chest with no shame.

"Price is searching for you." He responds gruffly, staring at his teammate before his eyes flicker to your own, judging. Pretty obviously too.

"Aight', I'll be right back." He groans, unhooking his hands from under your shirt and straightening up to leave, but not before placing a wet smooch on your cheek.

Simon stares at him leave, before the door closes and you're both left alone. He flicks the light on and stares at you once more, with a tad more judgement then you'd think he could give you.

"Price is with his missus."

He huffs at your comment. A man of little words and a bland sense of humor. "Right."

...

"What is your problem with me?" You finally ask, readjusting your shirt.

"You breathe."

That's not much of an answer. 'your existence' hahaha, so funny.

"You don't?" You scowl back. Really mature of him. Stop you and Johnny from making out because what?

"Are you jealous?" That seems to make his brows crease discouragingly. Hah, how could you say that?

"'m sorry?" His tone comes out baffled as he places his arms over his chest, directly staring down at you. Literally and methaphorically.

"You should be. You're trying to break me and Johnny up since the day you figured out we were dating."

Only a gruff and a twitch of his nose as response. "I can have you buried in less then a day, you know." It's wasn't even a question. He knew you know. You knew he knew. Anyone who came across him knew.

"You'd do that to Johnny?"

Another gruff. This time no added comment.

He didn't answer the question.

"Are you jealous, Simon?"

"Ghost."

"Are you jealous because I stole your crush, sir?"

A twitch of a nose and he turns to face the door, grabbing the handle. But you decide to do the most drama movie thing ever,

quickly speeding to him, hand on the door to shut it back closed while glaring up at him.

He doesn't flinch, or react for that matter. His eyes just slowly trail from the door to your fierce ones.

He says nothing, always choosing to not speak first.

"I will do whatever with my boyfriend I please. I don't care if you have some massive crush on him and would rather be in my place. Queue up, bitch." The words come quickly and with surprising coherency, no stutters or mispronounced words.

And then you grab the handle too, or well, grab his hand still on the handle, before quickly slapping his hand off and pulling it down, exiting the room just as quick.

You don't realise in the moment of annoyance how his eyes widened. Nor how quick his hand retracted on it's own as it connected with yours.

To say that he was shocked someone so below him talked to him like to a child, cursing him out to his face, was an understatement.

Of course, you had attained the immunity to being massacred by Ghost the day you became someone important in his mates live, but holy fuck.

That attitude of yours needed some serious fixing.