A/N: This is my first AW fic. And this is also the result of insomnia, and the fact I've never heard anybody curse using the words 'fuck me'. xD
Enjoy!
Mitchell walked into the room, only to find Ilona and Gideon watching a football match.
He plopped onto the three-seater sofa next to Ilona. As usual, the Russian was calm and collected, and sipping on a steaming cup of coffee, whereas Gideon looked unusually nervous and as though he'd jump from his seat at any moment. Both of their eyes were glued to the screen.
Subconsciously noting that he never would have guessed that the two had interest in football, Mitchell's eyes wandered to the TV. The match was near to over, with only about two minutes remaining, and one of the teams was easily getting the ball past enemy defenses.
Expentantly, said team scored their final goal and the timer struck ninety minutes, marking the end of the match. Mitchell considered this normally enough, but the way Gideon and Ilona reacted to it was immensely different.
"What the fuck?!" Gideon burst out, his facial expression that of disbelief.
Ilona chuckled in what sounded suspiciously like self-satisfaction. Smugness lacing her voice, she remarked, "Oh? Looks like I won, Gideon." She took another sip of her coffee, self-indulgently this time.
"I can't believe I just fucking lost in a fucking bet," Gideon muttered, looking from Ilona to Mitchell, his eyes pleading for either of them to tell him it was just a dream. Mitchell just looked puzzled, whereas Ilona's expression only served to annoy him further. With a groan, he hid his face in his hands. "Urgh…can you believe this, Mitchell? Fuck me."
There it was, again. Mitchell bit the insides of his cheeks and looked at the floor, praying for the weird feeling swelling in his chest to go away. He had to admit, Gideon had a pretty unique way of cursing—in Mitchell's opinion, of course. Not only was it strange, it was mildly disturbing. There were a few times where Mitchell wanted to ask Gideon to stop, but then he knew it would just lead to an awkward conversation.
For some reason, to have Gideon curse with those 'unique' words of his so close to Mitchell's name made the private snap.
"Hey, Gideon?"
"Hmm?" the Brit responded without even opening his mouth, sounding groggy and morose already.
"Why do you have to curse like that?"
The question piqued Gideon's curiosity. He lifted his face from his palms and raised an eyebrow, looking only ten percent interested in the unusual question. "Why do I curse like what?"
"Why do you have to say 'fuck me'?" Mitchell repeated, the embarrassment biting at him already. Oh well, no turning back now. Scratching the back of his neck and looking away, he continued, "Before I met you, people I know just say 'fuck it', or 'fuck that' or just plain 'fuck'. Is it actually necessary for you to add 'me'?"
If only he looked up, he would see Gideon looking bewildered and Ilona looking amused.
Mitchell coughed. "I'm trying to say that 'fuck me' just sounds…wrong."
Finally, he glanced up. Ilona was smirking, on the verge of breaking into a grin, whereas Gideon still looked perplexed, with a hint of amusement somewhere in his eyes.
Seeing their expressions made Mitchell flush. Well, he just made a total ass of himself.
"Yeahhh…I'm just going to go to my room now," Mitchell muttered awkwardly. He stood up and shuffled out of the room, avoiding eye contact with either of the two, despite the fact Ilona and Gideon watched Mitchell as he left.
The room was quiet in the few seconds following Mitchell's departure, with nothing but the low murmur of the TV audible to the ears. Finally, Ilona broke the silence.
"If I didn't know any better, the only reason he has a problem with you saying 'fuck me' is because he can't actually do it."
A smirk actually cracked on Gideon's face when Ilona finished her remark. Finishing up her drink, she arched a brow. "So? Are you just going to leave him as that sexually frustrated mess, or are you going to do something about it?"
Ilona couldn't help herself, and she winked at the last sentence, her smirk breaking into a wide, teasing smile.
"I'll go talk to him," Gideon said, suppressing a bigger smirk from playing across his face.
Ilona rolled her eyes, still smiling. "Yeah, you go do that."
Gideon pushed himself off the armchair and exited the room, walking down the hallway and turning into the path leading to the private's bedroom. In two minutes' time, Mitchell's door was in view, and Gideon firmly rapped on it twice.
"Urgh, can't you guys just leave me alone?" Yep, Mitchell still sounded humiliated.
Gideon chuckled. "Come on. Let's talk about it, mate."
"No, I already embarrassed myself," Mitchell groaned.
Gideon wrapped his hand around the knob and twisted it slowly. It complied and turned, opening the door in the process, and Gideon cracked it just wide enough for him to poke his head in. Mitchell was sitting on his bed, elbows on his knees and chin on his palm, face tinted a light pink and lips pouted in an embarrassed frown.
"I was hoping you wouldn't open the door," Mitchell grunted, wiping his face a few times. He sighed. "I should've locked it when I first came in…"
With a chuckle, Gideon entered the room, closing the door but not moving from the entrance. He leaned against the door, hands behind his back and resting on the knob. "Oh no, if you locked the door before I came here, I would've thought you were jerking off."
"You are having way too much fun with this," Mitchell hissed, face absorbing into a deeper shade. He tried to bury his face in his hands to hide the blush, but Gideon detected it anyway. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to talk."
"That's bullshit."
"Seriously! You're the only person so far who's actually bothered by the way I curse."
"How can I not be bothered?" Mitchell argued, looking up to glare accusingly at his captain, but then failed and looked away when he met with Gideon's steady, entertained gaze.
"How can you not be bothered?" Gideon repeated, in a sort of prompt to get Mitchell talking.
It worked. "Yeah. How can I not be bothered. You say those words like you really…shit, like you really mean it. And—and, damn. Especially that one time in Detroit, after we got off the helicopter. Did you just have to look me straight in the eyes and say 'fuck me' so firmly? It made me feel so… so…"
"Excited?"
"What? NO!" Mitchell was almost sure his face was comparable to a tomato. Gideon's facial expression was a pile of bullshit. With the way he grinned, the captain was obviously enjoying himself more than he should.
It was then Mitchell realized something. "WHY are you standing there?!"
"Standing where?" Innocent.
"Standing at my door!"
Again, Gideon pretended to be oblivious. "What's wrong with me standing at your door?"
"Because I feel like you're trapping me! The door is the only way in and out of this room!"
Gideon laughed softly. "Then, where would you like me to go? Join you on the bed?"
Mitchell groaned, very much fed up, and fell into his bed, turning and rolling the thick covers around his body. "Damn it, Gideon. Get out of my room."
"Aw, so soon? Thought you might prefer for me to stay."
Mitchell glared. "Fuck you."
"Be careful with what you say, Mitchell."
"GET OUT!"
A/N: I'm sorry it wasn't that slashy, but...I hope the humour made up for it! Or, you can say that Gideon never really left Mitchell's room for the next few hours... *hint hint* xD
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