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“Do you have something you want to share with the rest of us, Private?” Gaz snapped irritably at one of the recruits. With Soap and Ghost out for their leave, he was taking more shifts looking after Soap’s boys, and the young man had been getting on his nerves all day. Now he was whispering something to his neighbor rather than paying attention in a helicopter safety briefing in which Gaz was trying to teach them to properly secure themselves and pack parachutes.
“Sorry, sir.” Private Turner replied, looking entirely too close to laughing for Gaz’s mood.
“I don’t think that answers my question, Private.” He said flatly, staring him down. “Try that again.”
Turner stiffened and then shook his head. “No, sir. Sorry, sir.”
Gaz folded his arms. “Then you shouldn’t mind keeping it to yourself until after I’m done showing you how to pack a parachute.”
“Yes, sir.”
However, the second he turned back to his task, he heard the snicker from behind him and stiffened. He whirled around with a glower.
Before he could say anything, a Russian accent drawled from the door; “You should listen to your Sergeant.” A look over revealed Nikolai leaning casually in the doorway.
The recruits shuffled uncomfortably, some snapping towards weapons, all suddenly tense, and Gaz sighed. “At ease, soldiers. Nik's one of ours.”
“Who-?” One - he missed who - started and then stopped. At least it wasn’t Turner this time.
“Nik’s one of our contracted pilots.” The not-quite-lie spilled from Gaz’s tongue as easily as anything. “Do you need something, Nik?”
Nik shrugged, still leaning in the doorframe. “No. Am just observing.” His attention shifting towards the younger soldiers, he added pointedly, “Should listen to Sergeant Garrick. This man has fallen out of helicopter before.”
“Permission to speak freely, sir?” Private Sharp asked. Gaz sighed internally. He liked her well enough - she was actually very attentive - but she was rather opinionated and could get stubborn. He didn’t like where this was going, but as she’d been well-behaved for the class so far, he wearily granted permission. “I’m not sure being dropped out of a helicopter is exactly a selling point for a teacher in this course.”
Gaz scowled, regretting giving her permission immediately.
Nik chuckled. “He is still alive, no?” He stood up from the door frame and wandered in so the students weren’t craning over their shoulders to see him. “No scars, no major injuries. This is better track record than anyone else that has fallen from my helicopter.” Sucking on his teeth, he added blandly, “Though I suppose he is one of very few accidents.”
Before he could get any less subtle about his less than spotless record, Gaz cleared his throat to get his class’ attention back. “You really could have pulled up sooner when you realized I wasn’t dead.”
“I assumed if you were conscious you would tell me you were getting hit by trucks. My mistake.” Nik drawled, smirking broadly at him, and Gaz stubbornly stamped down on the little flutter in his belly at the smug Russian.
“I didn’t actually get hit by a truck, it was just awfully close.” He retorted, and then folded his arms. “Are you gonna stand there the whole time while I’m trying to teach the class?”
Nik shrugged again. “Is up to you. Do you need me to leave?”
Yes. In the interests of not getting distracted, yes, absolutely, he needed to leave, him and his stupid greased back hair that was just so long, his damnable smirk and easy swagger. “Not if you’re quiet.” His traitorous tongue replied.
Nik’s smirk broadened and he strolled up to the front of the room near Gaz, taking a seat in one of the chairs there, and spread his hands as if to say ‘go on’. “I am silenced.”
Gaz narrowed his eyes at him in warning but turned back to continue his class. With Nikolai’s imposing form lounging behind him, even Private Turner quieted down and performed their best, if only to spite the Russian, for which he was grateful. True to his word, Nikolai remained quiet until he was finished with the class.
“Right, finish up packing those and then leave them,” He said to conclude. “We’ll start up tomorrow by testing them, so let’s hope you did them right.” They’d be testing with weights, but might as well add a little pressure on their minds until morning. “After that, you’re dismissed.”
The class filtered out bit by bit and he followed after them cleaning up their packed parachutes and his own class supplies. As they left, he raised an eyebrow at Nikolai. “So was there a reason you’re here that you just didn’t want to tell the recruits?” He asked dryly.
Nikolai shrugged. “Only pleasure of your company.” He smiled in that disarming way he had and Gaz steeled himself against it.
He returned the look with a stern one. “Flirting with me isn’t going to get you out of trouble for dropping me out of the heli, Nik.”
Nikolai laughed. “I think your skills are getting you out of trouble when you dropped from helicopter, no?"
"Flattery won't get you anywhere."
"Should I change tactics, then?" Nikolai smirked at him, dragging his nearly-black eyes up and down Gaz's frame with absolutely no room for doubt as to what he wanted.
The answer flew off Gaz's tongue with too much ease - too used to flirting with Nikolai, confident the man's indulgence was one of amusement and not genuine interest, given everyone knew he was fucking the captain. "Give it your best shot, sir." He turned his back and continued straightening his papers, rolling his eyes, amused despite himself. It wasn't like he and Captain Price were anywhere close to the same 'type'. "Still gonna snag someone for a kiss for luck next time I have to fly with you, just to be safe." He taunted.
Gaz startled when he turned around to find Nikolai much, much closer than he'd thought, looming over him a bit with a big hand coming to rest casually on the desk behind him. "The hell are you doing?" He yelped, pressing back against the desk, bracing his own hands behind himself as he leaned back a little in surprise, pointedly ignoring his heartbeat going wild at the position they were in following the way he'd been flirting. Surely Nik couldn't mean . . . Nik's other hand cupped his chin firmly as the Russian smiled, crooked and just a tad sly.
"You wanted kiss for luck, yes?" He teased, voice low and rough, and Gaz swallowed hard as he bent low.
"Are you volunteering?" He asked, aware how stupid it sounded, too much breath in his voice as he stared into deep brown eyes.
Nikolai chuckled darkly and bent almost close enough for their lips to brush. "If you want."
Gaz felt his own resistance crumble. "Yes."
Nikolai sealed his lips with a kiss the moment the word was breathed between them. He provided no further contact than the hand on his chin, controlling him under the Russian's mouth, and the warm tongue that teased his lips. Gaz sank his nails into the desk, almost shaking under how much the tease made him want, until Nikolai pulled away with a satisfied smirk.
"Feel lucky?" Nikolai teased gently.
Gaz licked his lips, eyes wide as he stared back, flexing his hands against the desk. "I . . . might need a little more luck if you're going to fly like that again."
Nikolai laughed out loud but his big hand mercifully moved from the desk to Gaz's hip, and Gaz took the permission to dig his own fingers into Nik's shirt. The hand on his chin and jaw remained where it was, restraining him, keeping the kiss under Nik's power; this time there was little holding back, Nik's tongue invaded his mouth like he was fucking it. Gaz took it with not a little shock, sucking on that tongue on instinct and clutching his shirt, somehow afraid that if he tried to touch more than Nikolai was giving him he’d be abandoned, and too greedy for more to risk it.
Eventually, Nik let him go with a final little nip to his lower lip and a satisfied rumble, and stepped back. “People are coming, and door is open,” He said by way of explanation as Gaz gaped at him, breathing heavily. “If you want to ‘talk’ more, you know where to find me.” He winked and waved and strolled out as if he hadn’t just casually wrecked Gaz’s sanity.