Chapter Text
"I want her, Johnny."
The pan of brownies you’re holding nearly go crashing to the floor. Simon’s words are a brick wall. You’ve been baking all day because it’s the only thing you can do to distract yourself. The plan is to drop them off with Simon and let the boys devour them. Instead, you’re dumbfounded, standing right outside the door to the meeting room Price’s secretary told you to drop the sweets at.
“Who?” asks Soap absently.
When Simon speaks again, it is your name that falls from his lips. Yes, you and Simon are together, but you’re not together. This is fuck buddies. This is friends with benefits. This is…not a relationship.
Or so you thought.
But you’re at his place of work dropping off fucking brownies. The rest of his team call you by your first name. They expect you at functions when they all bring their significant others along. Yet you and Simon are not a couple.
Not officially anyway.
"Oh, aye?” asks Soap, his tone amused. “And does she want you?"
Yes. More than you know.
You’re fully aware that Johnny and Kyle give Simon shit about you. Not because they don’t like you—they adore you—but because they think Simon needs to put a ring on it. They aren’t quiet about it either.
But Simon has never been so forward with his feelings for you. He might tell you sweet things when his dick is deep inside you, but you’ve never heard him be this blunt.
"Don't care. She's mine, Johnny. I'll make sure of that." The mine is almost a growl, a possessive bite that sends a bolt of need to your core.
Johnny chuckles but there’s nothing condescending in it. He sounds…happy.
“Finally, Lt. Fucking finally!”
You hear Johnny enthusiastically smack Simon’s back—or shoulder—and then the man growls like he’s aggressively shaking Simon.
“You’re going to fucking crack my ribs, Johnny.”
“I’m just happy for you, Lt.”
You step forward, pressing your shoulder against the doorframe. They are still out of view, but you don’t want to reveal yourself yet.
“Finally going to make an honest woman out of her?” jokes Soap.
Simon snorts. “I’ll even make you an uncle, Johnny.”
“Me? I expect an army, Lt. Five mini-Riley’s running around.
“Fucking hell, Soap.”
Your cheeks are hot, and you’re standing out in the hall like an idiot. The last thing you need is for one of them to open to door and find you here.
Knocking to announce yourself, you open the door of the meeting room. They turn in your direction, but it’s only Johnny’s face that’s clear to you. Simon is wearing a balaclava, and the only part of him you can see are his eyes.
Johnny’s grin is devilish. “What’s that, love?”
“Brownies?”
He perks up. “Gaz is gonna flip his mug.” You hand them over and Johnny removes the foil on top. “I’m eating this entire pan.”
“Fuck off, Sergeant,” says Simon.
Johnny gives him a half-hearted salute before disappearing out the door, a chunk of brownie already shoved in his mouth.
“You just get here?” asks Simon, sauntering forward.
The soft sway of his hips is a tantalizing thing. You’re hypnotized. Locked in.
“No,” you whisper.
“No?”
“I—I heard you and Soap talking.”
Simon is inches away, his broad chest and shoulders seeming impossibly wide, almost boxing you in.
“What do you think?”
“You want me all to yourself?”
Simon’s voice is a growl. “You’ve always been mine. That’s never changed.”
You place your hand on Simon’s chest. “You promised Soap you’d make him an uncle.”
“I did.”
“And if I want to start right now?”
Simon leans in a bit further, his gaze burning like warm whiskey. “Then you should bend yourself over the table and lift that dress.”