Work Text:
Alex Keller
It was the second time in a month that a stupid pipe burst. That’s what you got for insisting on buying a fixer upper in the coldest winter the area had seen in years. You had managed to get the water cut off before it completely flooded the whole downstairs then set about cleaning up the mess.
Alex had arrived to find you a frazzled mess as you mopped up the water when your phone rang. The plumber. Alex quickly handed you the phone before he went about mopping. The plumber couldn’t be there today, earliest it would be was Monday. You couldn’t be home that day.
Looking at Alex, who could hear the call, he nodded and mouthed he could be there.
“I won’t be here, but my husband will,” you say. It’s a slip of the tongue. Alex and you didn’t even live together yet but just calling him a boyfriend seemed so minuscule compared to how you felt.
Alex had instantly stopped mopping and watched you curiously. The plumber continued talking but you barely heard what he said. You could feel the burning red of embarrassment on your cheeks as you watched Alex's face for his reaction. This was not a conversation you were ready for. You had wanted to talk to him about it, soon, but not today.
“Right, okay. Yes, his name is Alex, I’ll send you his number,” you assure the man as you continue to stare at Alex. Alex had gone back to mopping but you saw the stupid happy grin on his face as he worked and a hint of a red tinge to his cheeks. Hanging up you set your phone on the counter and take a deep breath.
“Listen I didn’t mean,” you start but Alex leans the mop against the fridge and steps toward you, his feet splashing in the water a bit.
"Oh, I think you did mean it," he answers grabbing your hips. "And here I was thinking I was just your boy toy for home improvement."
"Hush," you answer still feeling the tingle of the blush that had gone up to your ears.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Gaz insisted that you still do your monthly book club even though you protest, preferring to spend time with him. Him being home was a luxury and you had honestly started the online club as a way to pass lonely days counting down his return.
Leaning down you read the chat as people start joining. You grin at the number of people you managed to amass in the past few weeks. The beauty of online was anyone from anywhere could join. You had a few people from other countries even and always tried to set the meeting times to be accommodating for all.
After you all start talking and chatting about the book Gaz flops comfortably on the couch next to you handing you a glass of wine. He hadn't read the book but he was still interested in what you were doing so he peers at the screen, the side of his face visible to everyone for a fraction of a second.
It sends the chat into a tizzy. Everyone knew you had a significant other but they had never seen him. The comments are flying which makes you laugh before pointing a few out to Gaz who grins.
“They’re dying to know who you are,” you venture looking over at him. “Comfortable saying hello to my friends?” You raise your eyebrows and Gaz pauses before straightening his shirt in an exaggerated manner, preening himself. He nods and you turn the camera to face him so you are out of screen.
“Everyone this is Kyle,” you say grinning before tacking on, “my husband.” It was a joke, something you had seen people doing online as a trend.
It got his attention though. His eyes flick up to yours as the sounds of the chat pinging start going off tenfold. He's ignoring what people are saying, verbal and written, as his eyes rake over your face while you casually sip your wine staring back at him.
“My deepest apologies,” Kyle says after a moment as looks back at the camera while undoing the top button of his polo. “But I’m going to have to cut our session a little short. My wife,” he emphasizes the word as his eyes lock on yours, “and I have something to tend to.” He doesn’t give them a chance to respond before he snaps the laptop shut and all but chucks it on the recliner.
He’s on you in a moment, pinning you down into the couch as you giggle. “Husband?” He grins and you swear you see him glance at your empty ring finger.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Simon wasn't a fan of pictures of himself if his face was visible. He has loads of you though, his camera roll was just random shots of you mixed in with work items and stupid memes from his team. But you barely had any casual pictures of him in return. The pictures were always of you holding hands, or you pressed up against his chest with his arms around you. He didn't mind taking pictures that way, always holding his pose for you until you got it just to your standards after the first or fifty tries. Photography made you happy and even if he was a bit self-conscious about it, he fed your hobby.
The few times you could get a picture of his face with his approval he always had his mask on, only his striking eyes were visible as he stared at you. It was fine, you understood why, but you missed looking at his face when he was gone.
So while you are at a local cafe, safely tucked into a back corner, and he takes off his mask you dare to snap a picture. His hood is up, the lower half of his face obscured by the cup but you could still see his light blond stubble on his jaw. The slight crook of his nose where it had been broken and not set properly years ago. Even a small glimpse of the corner of his lips which were a natural pink that made you envious.
"Love," Simon says quietly as he looks at you from over the cup.
"I'm sorry. The light in here was too good to pass up," you sigh and scroll to delete it, savoring it for a second as your thumb hovers over the trashcan icon. "I miss looking at my husband when you're gone," you explain as you hit the button and watch the picture wipe away.
"Husband?" Simon asks quietly as he sets down his cup and carefully pulls his hood forward a bit to make sure his profile is covered.
You don't answer as you look back up at him and set your phone on the table between you. Instead, you grab your own cup and stare right back at him. It was a joke you had seen online, see how your boyfriend reacts to the official title. You didn't expect much from it, maybe a laugh or a joke in response but he doesn't do either.
He instead reaches out to nudge your phone back toward your hand and cock his head to the side a bit. Then he smiles, a genuine heartfelt smile that sets your heart fluttering.
"Go on then," he says nodding his head at the phone. "One picture, just for you. From your husband," he smirks as you fumble for the camera in a rush.
John Price
You snuck out of bed early that morning, having to creep quietly out of the room because John was such a light sleeper. It was his birthday and you were determined to give him some sort of a surprise. He always made sure your day was special, always took care of you, so it was your turn.
Shushing the dogs you set about making breakfast, careful to not bang the pans too loud, and diving for the kettle as it starts to whistle. It was a simple dish of eggs and bacon with hot tea, but John loved anything hot and homecooked. You had to shove the dogs outside before walking back up the stairs balancing everything carefully before hipping open the door.
"Damn it," you mutter as you see him half sitting up in bed smiling at you. "How long have you been up?"
"Mmm, since you tripped over your slippers," he answers with a small chuckle at your face. You thought you had gotten away with it, he hadn't even twitched as you cussed and caught yourself on the dresser. "You were so determined I didn't want to ruin it," he grins.
"One day I'll surprise my husband," you say with a sigh before setting his tea on the nightstand and the breakfast in his lap. He doesn't answer, doesn't move, as he looks at you. It seems you managed to surprise him after all as his eyebrows climb up toward his messy bed tousled hair.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have," you start back peddling. "It's just a joke my friends told me to try. It's all over social media, they did it with their boyfriends and thought it was funny." You explain as he slides the plate off his lap and sets it on the nightstand next to his tea.
"Do you think it's a joke?" He asks tilting his head to the side a bit, watching you get flustered and trip over your words. He's grinning now though as he crosses his arms over his bare chest waiting for you to get yourself out of your rambling.
"I mean the trend is a joke," you start, "but I mean if," you were making a mess of this.
"Sweetheart, I was ready to marry you after our second date. I am your husband, even if I haven't managed to get you down that aisle yet." He smiles and tugs you toward him as you attempt to reconcile how a simple joke had John confessing he'd had marriage on the brain for almost a year.
John "Soap" MacTavish
Another conference for work. At least this time you were able to bring Johnny along. You had forced your boss to agree to let you bring him even if it was only supposed to be for spouses. You told him it was either Johnny came or you wouldn't be there. You’d be damned if you were missing Soap’s short leave to sit in a stuffy room full of men praising their own egos ignoring you because you were a woman.
“Am I fancy enough to be here?” Johnny asks, a teasing smirk on his face. He was in a button down and slacks with a tie to match your cocktail dress for dinner.
“Plenty fancy,” you answer back smiling as you take his extended elbow. “Let’s get this over with,” you huff as you step on the elevator. A networking dinner with other people that were in your field and while it was better having Johnny here it was still not your favorite thing to do.
Johnny gently leaves you to go grab drinks while you stake out an empty table. It's not deserted for long before one of your coworkers stands right next to you at the high top giving you a once over. You had managed to avoid him all day but he had managed to spot you alone and swoop in out of nowhere.
“Who’s the guy?” He asks as he eyes Johnny at the bar striking up a genial conversation with the bartender. You really couldn’t take Johnny anywhere without him making friends. “I thought we were only allowed to bring spouses,” he tacks on. You had been fighting off Mark's advances for months, as politely as possible, but you'd had enough.
“John,” you answer coolly as you set your purse on the standing cocktail table. He didn’t get to call him Johnny. “And who says he isn’t my spouse?” You ask raising an eyebrow. He wasn’t your spouse, you weren’t even formally engaged, but to you Johnny was the one anyway.
“Says the lack of any ring,” he says pointing to your hand. He never took no for an answer, ignored you when you said you had a boyfriend. He was persistent and creepy but it was ending tonight.
“John,” you say as Johnny walks over to your other side with a beer and your vodka soda. He knows something is up, his eyebrow quirks at the use of the formality of his name. “I’d like you to meet Mark,” you gesture to him emphasizing the name because Johnny had heard all about him.
“Mark, meet my husband,” you say boldly.
If Johnny was shocked he didn’t let on. He just gently places a hand on your lower back before setting his beer down and extending the other to Mark to shake his hand. You can see him squeeze a bit too hard despite being jovial and kind. The conversation remains casual and a bit forced after that before Mark excuses himself.
Johnny doesn’t say anything about how you introduce him to everyone as your husband, just exchanges pleasantries in return. But you notice his hand never leaves your body in one way or another and he’s been grinning to himself the whole evening. Cutting his eyes to you with a shine to them every time you say husband and even stepping in himself to introduce himself as your husband to a few people.
“Husband, lass?” He asks once he gets you alone in the elevator.
“Sorry,” you mutter kicking off your heels to which he extends a hand to take them without you asking. “Mark just won't get the hint and I,” he cuts you off crowding you into the corner as the lift steadily rises.
“Don’t apologize,” he grins tilting your head up. “I like how it sounds.”