Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Song recommendation:

Soldiers - Otherwise (AI COVER)

feel free to listen to the original :)

POV Ghost

Ghost left the plane behind his Sergeant. Soap was quick to greet their new teammate and shake his hand. This one was Colonel Alejandro Vargas, Mexican Special Forces. The Sergeant didn't bother keeping it professional, calling him straight by his first name. Business as usual.

Soap: "Alejandro..."

Alejandro: "Sergeant MacTavish."

Soap: "Call me Soap."

The Colonel's eyes fell on Ghost.

Alejandro: "Lieutenant... Laswell says they call you Ghost."

Soap: Actually, I believe he prefers to be-"

Ghost: "That'll do."

Ghost shut him up with a loud tone. He didn't want to put up with Soap's teasing again. Bet there would be more ahead and that would already be more than enough. He knew it too well but right now he was not in the mood to deal with it. Not with their new comrades around. They didn't need to see that he couldn't keep his Sergeant under control.

Alejandro: "Welcome to the city of souls."

Alejandro signaled them to get into a vehicle. Together with a convoy they left the base so Alejandro and Rodolfo could show them around, driving through the city of Las Almas.

Needless to say it was fucking hell. Children were buying ice cream in one street while corpses decorated another. Bloody Narcos.

***

Their mission in Las Almas didn't go as planned and Soap had to play decoy. Ghost didn't like putting lives on the line like that. Not even Soap's - even if he was annoying.

He was glad when they got him out alive. Even more so after successfully completing the following operations. His Sergeant was good at his job after all, despite being irritating. Truly a capable lad. Had to leave him that. But not only him. The new part of his team - especially Alejandro and Rodolfo - were good men as well. Ghost quickly warmed up to them. It was a pleasure working with well trained people. People who were professional at that. It was a nice change.

And as they returned to the base, things got out of hand. As reward for their success Graves treated them and their team like only an arsehole would. That bastard dared to betray them and attack their own. That fuckin' traitor.

POV Soap

Ghost: "Go Johnny, get out of there! Soap, go!"

Ghost screamed, almost growled the order.

And how Soap ran. He was so fast that he reached the city in only minutes. Still out of breath he checked the lines for his teammates.

Soap: "This is Bravo-7, in the blind... How copy?"

No answer.

Soap: "Ghost, this is 7-1, do you copy?"

Still just white noise. He let his voice roll deep in his throat. There was no way he could get out of there alone.

Soap: "Fuck, where are you Ghost?"

Soap got up and lurched onto the cobble stone street. His entire body ached, causing him to slip on the wet stones.

His hand that reached for the aching spot on his arm got stained with sticky blood. He didn't even remember feeling it when he got shot. The adrenaline rush made him foggy.

POV Ghost

Ghost could hear Soap calling out to him, while killing a group of Shadows with his knifes. Soap's growl echoed in his head. The lad was desperate. They both were. Nobody wanted to be alone in a fucked up situation like this.

When he was sure it was clear and no Shadow could hear him, he finally answered.

Ghost: "Soap, this is Ghost. How copy?"

The only thing he could hear was struggling on the other end.

'Shit. Don't die on me, Soap!'

Ghost: "Johnny?... Johnny, how copy?"

POV Soap

Did his pain drunken body make him delusional or did Ghost not only answer him but also sounded worried? He even let his real name roll of his tongue like it was nothing. It wasn't even the first time this night that he did it.

Soap: "Solid."

Ghost: "Thought we lost ya."

Soap heaved his body up, struggling with pain caused by the wound on his arm. And it was definitely audible through the mics.

Ghost: "You're injured?"

It sounded more like note than an actual question.

Soap: "I'm good."

Ghost: "Let's find out how good you are."

Soap's heart jumped at Ghost's comment. Let him forget about the pain for a moment.It surely wasn't meant in that way but he wanted to be good for him - if Ghost just let him. Wouldn't fuckin' happen. Only in his dreams. But hell, this wasn't the time to remind himself of the interest he took in his mask wearing Lieutenant.

Ghost: "Keep your blood in, you'll need every drop."

Soap: "Thanks for the tip."

Might not be a medic but Soap at least knew so much. And the blood that slowly made his way to his lower half as he thought about Ghost would remind him of that even more so. It made him a little dizzy to have less blood in his brain. Fucked up how it somehow felt like heaven for a moment - similar to being tipsy. Oh how he needed a decent drink after this mission.

Soap: "Where are you?"

Ghost: "There's a church. I'm heading to it Let's RV there. You'll need to improvise to survive."

And with Ghost's help he did. An improvised crowbar finally got him inside one of the houses. Shadows were close though. Even came across a corpse of a civilian. He quickly came to the conclusion that Shadows weren't human - they were monsters.

Ghost: "Watch your arse, you've got exactly zero allies down there..."

Soap: "We're friends, no?"

Soap was grasping at every straw by now. If he didn't make it out alive, he at least wanted to know, if he was on good terms with Ghost. Maybe pushing on his advances a tad more than usual couldn't hurt either. At least not as much as his damn shot wound.

Ghost: "We're teammates. Friendship's not in the field manual, Johnny."

Soap didn't like the answer. It left him unsatisfied. If Ghost really didn't like him, he could've at least lied to him to make him feel better about himself. Just in case he died. His Lieutenant didn't even grant him this wee bit of peace. But Ghost had been cold to him most of the time, so he shouldn't have expected less.

Soap: "Neither is mask making..."

He teased, failing to sound as displeased as he was.

Ghost didn't answer.

POV Ghost

Previously Ghost had always found Soap's narking annoying but he couldn't help but notice a change in his demeanor.

'Friends, eh?'

Was it just the fear speaking out of his teammate or did that Scot like him o' what?

Due to Soap's inappropriate banter Ghost hadn't even noticed how he was using his real name regularly by now.

'Losin' professionalism real quick. Pull yourself together, Simon!'

Seems like the Sergeant's teasing showed effect after all. Not acceptable for a superior officer. Especially when Soap tested his boundaries - not only those of him as his Lieutenant but also of him as a man.

Ghost could hear Soap swearing as he came across more civilian bodies lying everywhere. It didn't surprise him though since he's already come across some lying in the streets himself.

And now he suddenly had to handle an angry Soap before he'd do something stupid. He didn't want to lose another of his friends... Anyway...

They couldn't handle a one on one massacre on their own. They'd be dead men.

Soap: "What about Alejandro?"

Ghost: "Alejandro you can trust but he's in Graves' custody. If he's even alive..."
Soap: "Alejandro es nuestro hermano. If he's alive, he's on our side."

Ghost squinted. The Sergeant was calling Alejandro a brother way too fast for his likin'. Yes the Mexicans did make a great addition to their team and they could definitely trust them but Soap had to learn to distance himself. What happened with Graves didn't need to be repeated.

Soap ending the call with a heavy Scottish dialect didn't make his suddenly tight chest any better. Call it worry o' whatever.

Ghost: "Be careful who you trust, Sergeant. People you know can hurt you the most."

Ghost bit his lip under the mas, reflecting on the jealousy in his own voice. Maybe he wasn't so indifferent towards Soap after all.

POV Soap

Ironic that Ghost found it necessary to tell him of all people. Since knowing him, Ghost did a great job in hurting him regularly. Not that he was mad about that. He understood. Ghost wasn't a person who did friendships - let alone anything beyond that. He wasn't even sure if Ghost liked women or men. Never gave away anything private like that.

On their last leave Soap had wondered if he should ask to meet in England but their titles were always standing in the way - luckily. He ended up not doing it. Wanting to see him between missions almost made him do stupid things. It was unrealistic. Soap missed him never the less. But it was probably for the better. Receiving harsh words had somewhat kept him and his interest in Ghost grounded. Though it didn't mean that it hurt any less. He tried not letting it show in his answer.

Soap: "Good advice, L.t.. I wanna be like you when I grow up."

He expected a comment about their height difference - it was a great set-up after all - but in place of another joke, he only got back a "You wanna be better than me, Johnny."

Hearing him so seriously made Soap's jaw clench. Biting his teeth almost hurt. Ghost's walls were crumblin'. Couldn't lie, it made him fuckin' nervous.

Soap: "I will be."

Ghost: "Good man."

'Oh.'

Ghost suddenly returning the teasing let more blood rush down into areas that didn't need it right now. And fuck, it thrilled him. Didn't know that being called good was a kink of his. Nice to know. Made their dynamic even more interesting.

And what was going on inside the Lieutenant's mind anyway? Didn't seem like his usual self. Was something wrong?

Soap: "Think I'll live that long?"

Ghost: "Probably not..."

Aye. Mocking sounded more like Ghost's usual banter. And Soap needed to concentrate anyway. He needed to pull himself together.

A dog was barking as Soap entered the next room.

'Shite. The Shadows definitely heard that.'

Instincts kicked and he quickly jumped down the balcony. His ankles hurt a little as he landed on the streets below but it was acceptable. He was trained for that. He pressed himself against a wall of a dark alley when shots were fired roughly in his direction. He stayed still for another few seconds even after it became silent again. He dropped a heavy breath before going on.

Ghost: "You may get a brag rag for this."

Soap welcomed the now shredding voice inside his ringing ears. Guns were loud as hell.

Soap: "A medal?"

He couldn't hold back a smile at the way Ghost had replied with "Chest candy." This man was always up for a surprise. Who knew his Lieutenant had a thing for medals?

But such praise wasn't for him. The only approval he needed was the one coming from Ghost. Wasn't ready to make his superior aware of that though. If Soap indeed survived he still wanted to get away for having a loose mouth. Nothing more. A confession was not part of the plan.

Soap: "Dead shadows are my medals."

Ghost: "You said you wanted a win. Congratulations, you're a winner."

Soap: "Away n' bile yer heid."

Ghost: "English, MacTavish."

Soap swallowed heavily. He could feel his pants getting just a little tighter. His last name sounded too good in Ghost's mouth. The strict tone was really somethin'.

Soap: "Sorry, Sir. Let me translate: 'Go fuck yourself'."

Ghost: "Much better."

He bit his lip. Soap could swear that Ghost let out a surprised huff when he called him 'Sir'. Seems like he finally found out something really interesting about Ghost. Maybe he should do that more often.

POV Ghost

Soap went on and started finding traces of Ghost being there before him. A man stabbed by one of his knives.

His Sergeant made sure to let Ghost know that he didn't appreciate his superior officer leaving him behind like that. And Ghost hoped that it didn't make it look like he was counting him dead already.

Ghost: "I'm used to working alone."

It was a weak excuse and Ghost knew that. But he needed to respond to Soap's 'And you left me?' that was dripping with disappointment. He couldn't stand it. Somehow he was glad that he couldn't see Soap's eyes right now. Disappointment was nothing the usually energetic and happy man expressed. Ghost wasn't sure if he could've stand his ground looking at that.

With his answer he mostly tried to convince himself that it was the right thing to do. Though it didn't really work as intended. Was he a bad Lieutenant?

Soap: "So much for a 'no man left behind'."

'Ouch...'

Ghost grid his teeth. He needed a better explanation. Fast.

Ghost: "Just get yourself to the church. Tryin' to keep you alive and get you here one piece. One of us needs to survive an tell the tale."

Soap: "Taken a shine to me, then?"

Ghost: "Not in the slightest."

It shot out of him defensively before he could overthink it and make it awkward. Seems like a fast mouth wasn't always a bad thing. Maybe that was worth remembering when he got himself under control again and had time to think about Johnny's question more seriously. He also didn't get past how obviously Soap was smiling while saying that. But there was no time breaking his head open about it now.

Ghost: "Still got a lot of ground to cover."

POV Soap

After a few minutes of roaming through another house, Soap found himself in another alley. Again. Raindrops fell into his eyes, making it hard to see. His clothes were getting quite uncomfortable. Maybe he should've worn a jacket after all.

Soap: "It's pishin' it doon out here."

Ghost: "Speak English."

Soap: "It's rainin' fuckin' hard!"

Ghost: "They say so."

Soap: "I did!"

It didn't slip that Ghost seemed to be at least a tad amused by his Scottish cursing. Didn't happen often so it felt great to be the reason for it.

Ghost: "Rain's good. It'll cover your tracks."

Soap: "Covers theirs too."

Ghost: Let's worry about you, Johnny."

Ghost's answer came out raspier than before. Soap hoped it wasn't just the mic to blame. Needed to hear it more often. Maybe even in person. That'd be pure hot. It send blood down there way too nicely.

Soap: "So you do like me?"

Ghost: "I like you alive..."

That would suffice. For now.

***

Minutes later after Soap found himself a better weapon, Ghost continued with their banter. It was refreshing to hear him initiating it. It seems like it helped them both to stay sane.

Walking down the alley Soap came along two other Shadows.

'Hm... Gives me an idea.'

Soap: "L.t., about to play rough with the Shadows."

Ghost: "I like the sound o' that"

Ghost's voice was now a lot breathier still affected by their newly found closeness. That's at least how Soap interpreted it. And he hoped he was right.

Soap: "Fashioned a trip mine."

Ghost: "A man after my own heart."

Soap: "Thought you'd like that."

Ghost: "You thought right."

Another huff made it faintly through the mic. Soap took it back. Ghost's breathy voice was even better than the raspy one. It made him wonder what he would sound like-

'Stop!'

He interrupted his own streak of thoughts. The pinching in his pants was a friendly reminder to end this. His excessive energy was instead put into taking out the enemies. The slight tremor coming through the sole of his boots was exactly what he needed right now.

***

Soap eventually made it inside a coffee shop where they exchanged some more banter. It made it feel like they were much closer than they used to be. Maybe it would even give him enough courage to ask Ghost to get a tassie of coffee together when they get out of this - or a tea. It would be something normal people would do.

Soap couldn't bring himself to blame it solely on their current situation with Ghost trying to keep him going. There was something between them.

Excited by his successful advances he decided to try something more bold.

Soap: "You're gonna owe me for this."

Ghost: "Why?"

Soap: "We're fixing each other's problems..."

Ghost: "What's my problem?"

Soap: "The mask... Take it off."

Soap knew he couldn't see him through the comms but at least it would be a step forward, hearing his voice not muffled by the fabric. He needed it. Just a bit more trust and familiarity between them. And if he couldn't get it now, he would come back to it. Later. Somehow he would eventually get there.

POV Ghost

Soap demanded it but in Ghost's ears it sounded more like begging.

'Damn brat'

Ghost: "Show my face?"

He teased as if he didn't know what Soap wanted, waiting for his reaction.

Soap: "Yes, Sir."

Ghost's insides twisted hearing Johnny's words coming through the comms with such a sweet tone. Was he playing nice on purpose? He was pushing buttons - the right ones at that. Ghost could tell because he somehow liked it. And he liked it way too much...

An unexpected problem caught his attention. He didn't have time for fuckery like that. But it was hard to fight it when Soap knew exactly what he did.

Ghost pulled himself together, to not get angry with himself for getting so affected by his Sergeant. He just rearranged himself, trying to shake off the feeling it left him with.

Ghost: "Negative."

Soap: "Are you ugly?"

'Challenging me, are ya?', he thought.

He would pay him back for that. Ghost couldn't suppress a naughty smile while answering.

Ghost: "Quite the opposite."

Soap: "I doubt that."

Ghost knew better than to bite the bait. All the teasing in the world couldn't hide how Soap would be affected by imagining his face. Ghost couldn't see it but he took a guess.

POV Soap

Minutes in silence passed after Soap left the coffee shop. It took him a while, thinking about Ghost. He took it out on some of the Shadows. Multiple take downs later and without Soap talking, worry seemed to creep up on Ghost. It showed in his voice when he asked for another update. Soap smiled to himself, knowing that Ghost cared about him after all.

Ghost: "Still up right?"

Soap: "So far so good."

Ghost: "You get caught out there, they'll kill you slow."

Soap: "Mercs or the Narcos?"

Ghost: "Narcos... They'll take videos.

Soap: "I'll give 'em your email so they know were to send them..."

Soap teased, wondering what kind of reaction he could get out of his Lieutenant. Seeing your Sergeant being tortured to death must be terrifying to watch.

Ghost: "I won't watch 'em... more than once anyway..."

Soap's heart stumbled. Did he just hear that correctly?

Soap: "Sick bastard"

He seriously needed help. Ghost made him go insane at this pace.

He resisted the urge to squeeze his pants for a quick relief. It wasn't about the pain that would be associated with such a video but the thought of Ghost watching him being tied up and helpless. He'd surely like to be at his Lieutenant's mercy. He'd let him play rough.

'Who was the sick bastard now?', he thought to himself.

***

More banter and bad jokes were leading Soap forward into the direction of the church. And it didn't seem to end soon judging by Ghost's offer to tell another one.

Ghost: "We could do this all night..."

Soap had to force down an embarrassing sound.

'All night, huh?'

Fuck that turned him on even more now. How would Ghost be when they did it all night? Would he be as mental as the rest of him - brutal and rough, taking what he wanted. Or would he care for him, treating him like a good lad - careful not to hurt him with his hulky body and whatever else would be in store for him. It left him aching - but in a good way. In all good ways.

Soap quickly shook his head. He must be crazy! This was overstepping a line. Ghost was still his superior officer - not that it turned him on any less. But they were on a mission. Getting hard on his voice and their flirting was one thing but imagining explicit scenes in his head wasn't anything he should allow.

And suddenly Soap was glad that Ghost had been so cold during their previous missions. It had been a blessing because he didn't know what he would've possibly done otherwise.

Soap: "That's what I'm afraid of."

POV Ghost

It didn't take long until Soap gave Ghost the update that he had reached a bar. He smirked. Perfect.

Ghost: "You like tequila?"

Soap: "No, tastes like dog piss."

'Too bad. Would've liked to get that punk drunk. Could've used it as an excuse to mess things up a little.'

Ghost ran his hand over the plastic mask. Hell. Where did that come from?

'Finally get this out of your head, Simon!'

He was glad when Soap asked for a tactical use for dog piss, clearing his mind so he could think about something more appropriate. And he also appreciated that Soap valued his superior's tactical experiences.

Ghost: "Wolf hunting. They follow the scent."

Soap: "Do you hunt with the mask on?"

The mask here we go again.

Ghost: "Naturally. The Camo version."

Soap: "I'll bet you sleep with that thing?"

'Oh Johnny, sure you want to know that?'

Ghost smirked. Gotta give that brat an equally suggestive answer then.

Ghost: "Soundly."

Soap: "You're out of your mind, L.t."

Soap's voice sounded hazed. It made Ghost smile more brightly and gave him a slight blush. He could feel the warmth spreading under his balaclava. Fuckin' hell. What was his Sergeant doing to him?

Ghost: "That's for sure."

POV Soap

The Scot suppressed another vocal reaction to the image of Ghost and him in his room at their base in England. How they'd spent the night together with the taller man mounting him. Calculated eyes glaring down on him through the holes of his skull mask. Ghost would be displaying the power he had over him. Soap was sure about that.

Damn did Ghost do this on purpose? Teasing him to the point where everything he wanted to do was just to sit down on one of the bar stools and giving himself some relief.

Instead he tried to get the scene out of his head while leaving the bar and Ghost continued leading him to flooded tunnels. The water was arse cold. But at least he could feel the blood in his pants slowly spreading into the rest of his body again.

Ghost: "The church plaza is on the side of the tunnel. Push through, you're nearly here."

He came across some more Shadows lurking in the waters, but they posed no problem. When Soap came out of the water it was freezing. The remains of the bulge in his pants were still quite visible under his soaked clothes. He hoped that Ghost wasn't able to see it in this lighting, if he looked at him through his scope right now. He certainly could. For sure.

'Don't. Don't think about it!'

Well at least he was almost there. It wouldn't take long anymore until he reached the church and he could leave this fuckin' hell of a city. There were things he had to attend to rather sooner than later. Running around with a hard on for what felt like hours was torture.

Soap pried open another door just to find a Merc standing right in front of him. Fuck. His damn boner had him out o' his mind! It had made him inattentive. He knew getting to the church was already dangerous enough. But getting caught like this so close to reuniting with Ghost and leaving this hell of a place was just really bad luck. This Merc had him remember the target that he still had on his back.

Soap received a punch with the back of the Merc's gun. Luckily he's not shot but it wasn't over yet. Right when he thought that this was it and he already saw his life flash before his eyes, a shot fired through the air and the Merc followed him to the ground. With the difference being that Soap was still alive.

Soap: "Holy hell... Ghost, was that you?"

Ghost: "Who else? Now go! Get to the steps, I'll be there!"

Soap: "Copy, L.t."

***

As Soap finally reached the Church, Ghost came running to the entrance. The soggin' clothes were still clinging onto his now ice cold skin. But there was no possibility that he would surrender now. They would pull through this together from there on out!

Soap: "Ghost!"

Ghost: "Soap! We need a vehicle - on me! Stay sharp, they know we're here and they know it's us. They'll send more."

Soap: "Contact! Dead ahead!"

Ghost: "I see 'em."

Together they fought off Shadows coming seemingly from everywhere. That fuckin' Merc must've contacted them before Ghost shot him.

Eventually they were able to make it to their truck. Ghost insisted on driving.

Chapter Text

Song recommendation:

Waste - Kxllswxtch

(yes the one you all probably know)

POV Soap

When they were out of reach Soap turned back in his seat to look on the road. Adrenaline was slowly wearing down. As he tried to relax in the truck he could feel Ghost's gaze burning holes through his clingy wet clothes. Both were equally uncomfortable - the fabric sticking to his skin and his observing eyes glued on him instead of the road. Well the coldness at least helped to cover up the pain of his shot wound.

Ghost: "Feeling weak, are you?"

Soap: "A bit shaky, Sir. Yeah."

Soap let out a sharp breath as he realised that Ghost was trying to tease him about his state.

'Shite. Not now Ghost.'

If he initiated another ambiguous conversation, his Lieutenant would surely notice the bulge reappearing in his drenched and chankin pants. Since when was he so damn horny all the time? Ghost ruined him.

Ghost: "Your clothes are drippin' all over the seat. Would stand to reason if you were a little off."

Soap: "Not exactly it."

Fuck he could slap himself in the face.

'Haud yer wheesht, Johnny!'

Soap gave Ghost an insecure look, checking if he was still on it. And he was indeed. Ghost's brown eyes were scary as if he wanted to slit his throat any second. It had him holding his breath.

'Shit shit shit.'

He had this intense stare that never budged away for a short moment. Not even to look at the street. How did that man even have a driver's license?

Ghost: "Shall I help ye?"

Soap tensed and blinked a few times, not sure if Ghost had noticed. Either way he surely wouldn't be doggin' in this damn truck like a fuckin' teenager. Finally Ghost broke eye contact to watch the road again.

Ghost: "Gotta find a place where we could stay for the night. As your superior I should make sure you dry up."

***

The car stopped behind a few shrubs growing under an olive tree. It gave them enough coverage in the dark.

Ghost: "The shed over there. Go clear it. I'll cover for you."

Soap looked over, hearing the clicking of Ghost preparing his sniper rifle. Another thing that was hot about him. Enough so that every sound of it pierced through his marrow and bone, leaving him tense.

POV Ghost

Soap: "Shiel will be clean in no time."

Ghost: "It better be, Johnny."

Ghost's voice was quiet and raspy from shouting all day. Besides, the Scot wasn't the only one who knew how to push buttons. He could see Soap shivering. God... How did that mutt manage to get him so excited? He didn't feel like this for ages. Would Soap let him make a move? 'Cause his reactions made it obvious that he wasn't just jokin' around with him tonight. Ghost watched him swallow before saying "It'll be a skoosh.". Whatever that meant. Soap left the truck too fast for Ghost to ask him.

With a look through his scope, he followed his teammate creeping up on the shed. He had a quick look through the windows before entering. Ghost's finger hoovered over the trigger, ready to shoot in case something went wrong. He just hoped there would be no civilians inside at this hour.

Soap: "It's empty. Should we stay here?"

Ghost: "Affirmative. I'll join you."

POV Soap

Ghost slammed the door of the car shut after parking it in the shed.

Ghost: "Looks even more worn down from close up, eh?"

Soap just nodded, trying not to meet his eyes again as he took of his vest and the rest of his mil tec and put it on the truck bed. Finally getting the weight off his shoulders felt nice.

Ghost: "Get undressed when ya at it, Sergeant."

Soap: "Excuse me?"

A little shocked Soap turned around, just to stare at Ghost stripping his jacket and shirt.

Ghost: "You heard me, Soap. Get rid of the soggin' clothes."

His mouth went dry, face glowin' hot as his pants suddenly got a lot tighter again. Soap just froze staring at Ghost's trained body. Dim light was shining from a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. Accentuating every movement of muscles under his skin. This was dangerous.

It wasn't like he didn't see topless men on a regular basis. He was working in the military after all. They had public showered in the gym. So this was nothing. But this also was Ghost. The 'I show my face to nobody'-Ghost that seemingly had no problem showing off his abs to Soap instead. And to Soap alone. That's at least what he assumed.

'It's go big or go home, innit?'

Ghost was broad. A fuckin' hulk with old combat scars that had become pale over time. They were telling stories of Ghost before Soap joined the 141.

'Intriguing. Knew he was hiding something under that bulky vest and jacket.'

It all fitted his veiny arms and tattoo sleeve quite well. His definition and scars combined with his height only made him look scarier.

'Don't get me wrong, I love mi men to be a tad sinister.'

Ghost took a step forward, followed by a step back on Soaps side. He felt the car behind him. Since he couldn't back off further, they were getting intimidatingly close with Ghost's next step. The smaller man had to lean his head back, trying to keep his eyes up on the mask. And the mask alone. The dry shirt was pushed into Soap's hands.

Ghost: "Put this on when ya finished starin'... Or do you still need help with that?"

Ghost looked down on him. Not into his eyes but directly to his crotch.

'Shite. So he did notice.'

Soap quickly took the shirt. It was still warm from Ghost's body heat. Or Soap had just cooled down a lot. Sheepishly he undressed himself under his Lieutenant's death stare. He was still too close.

'Into degradation, Sir?', he thought to himself, not feeling confident enough to say it out loud.

Ghost: "Wait. Let me fix you up before sullying my shirt."

Soap: "It's black anyway."

Ghost: "Keep your wounds clean, muppet."

***

Ghost's shirt was nice and dry. It was a tad too big but comfortable. With his wound bandaged and his own exposed chest gone, Ghost threw his own jacket back on as well. Didn't close it yet though. His abs were still peaking through.

'Fuckin' hell.'

Hard to stay focused when a rare guy like that teased you so devilishly.

Ghost: "Go on."

With that he pointed at Soap's jeans. It was an order, despite letting it sound like a question. His voice was calm. Reminded him of their banter through the comms. Soap waited a second, thinking about the smartest next move. He was still rock hard, despite the patching up hurting like hell. He coudn't just drop his jeans like the bulge wasn't there.

Soap: "Winnea dee at"

Ghost: "English, MacTavish."

Soap: "I can't, Sir."

Ghost: "Why?"

Oh hell, Ghost knew exactly why. He just wanted to be cheeky.

Soap: "Haven't been able to chug lately."

Ghost: "Whatever that means, I hope it's an excuse to why you're gettin' hard on a mission... Bet it has been quite distracting."

Soap's face took on an even darker shade of red, that also travelled down his neck by now. He couldn't look him in the eyes.

Ghost: "Maybe I should teach you to contain yourself a little better."

Soap: "I'm sorry, Sir."

The taller man let out a short growl, hearing him speak so formally. Soap still looked down at his feet when a gloved hand entered his periphery and fingers hooked into his belt.

Ghost: "Johnny. Get 'em off so they can dry... Or I'll help you."

Soap couldn't tell if it was supposed to be a threat or an offer.

POV Ghost

Ghost still had his fingers hooked on the belt. Soap didn't budge nor look at him. His neck and ears were obviously blushing despite his tan skin and the dim light.

'Careful, Simon. Don't wanna ruin this.'

He slowly pulled out the loop, waiting for Soap pushing his hands away. He stayed still, even after Ghost started properly fiddling with the fastener. Just to test, he pushed his knee between his legs, making slight contact with the tightness in his jeans. At that Soap let out a shaky whimper, clearing his throat to cover it up. But Ghost was an observant man.

'How can this brat be so fuckin' sensitive? It must have been ages since he had someone touching him.'

Ghost: "You good, Soap?"

Soap: "I'm good."

Ghost: "What about your girl at home? Didn't see her in a while?"

Soap: "I dinnae graft burds."

For a change Ghost tried to decipher what the Scot had said himself since he didn't seem to feel comfortable giving him a straight answer. Though he still wasn't able to make out what he meant. Languages weren't exactly the Lieutenant's forte.

Ghost: "English, Johnny."

Soap: "Don't make me say it."

Ghost: "Sergeant."

He ordered, needing a proper answer.

Ghost saw him struggle to find the guts to say it.

Soap: "I don't fancy women, Sir. Ah'm a buftie."

'Oh.'

He felt sorry for pressuring him into coming out like that. But knowing that he liked men made things a little easier.

Ghost: "This alright, then?"

He daringly put his hand on his crotch. Still expecting to be shoved away or at least called out for overstepping the professional boundaries Ghost held onto so dearly. Well not anymore... Instead the contact made Soap bud his head forward, while letting out a sweet muffled moan for him.

'Fuck.'

Ghost used his other hand to hold onto his neck and pull his head to his chest so he could lean against him. The jacket was still open. Ghost had to admit that Johnny's returning warmth felt nicer on his skin than expected. He didn't have a lot of bodily contact with others since joining the military. Let alone this kind of intimacy. And he hadn't cared about it, didn't need it. Until now.

'I should stop.'

Ghost: "Tell me to stop."

He said, not able to hide his uncertainty.

Ghost didn't want to push himself onto his subordinate with Soap being afraid to speak up. Luckily Soaps response was everything but intimidated. Maybe a little quieter than usual but not afraid. If anything, he'd say that Johnny sounded agitated.

Soap: "Yer bum's oot the windae, pal? I'm not a mad man."

Ghost: "I don't want this to be about power dynamics."

Soap: "Haud yer weesht, big man. Get on with it or 'am doin' it myself."

Doing it himself, huh? Ghost wondered what Soap would do to himself behind closed doors. How he'd try to silence his moans. Would he think about him while jerking off? Call his name? Ghost couldn't hold back a hungry hum rolling roughly in the back of his throat. Thinking about it made his mind foggy, leading him to a decision his former self would've called stupid.

With a harsh tug, he got rid of Soap's belt entirely and pulled his pants down in a similar fashion. It made Soap huff in surprise. Seemed like he didn't anticipate such a change in pace - or Ghost mouthing him through his damp boxers, rubbing his mask over the fabric. When he looked up, his blue eyes weren't watching him from above. He had squeezed them shut, face blushing hard. His strong hands digging into his shoulders on each side, fingers burying into his skin through the jacket.

Soap: "Gonnae no dae that..."

Fuck. No idea what that one meant but his weak begging went directly down his cock.

POV Soap

Soap's waistband was pulled down by gloved hands, revealing him to Ghost's eyes. His heart hammered against his rib cage. As if being able to feel his embarrassment, Ghost halted for a second.

Ghost: "You want this?"

Did he? Having his Lieutenant go down on him certainly felt weird but he had been interested in him for a while now. Maybe this was his only chance... When he gave his answer, his voice was but a breathy whisper.

Soap: "Take it off."

Ghost: "Quite the demanding one, are ye."

Soap shakily played with the edge of the balaclava. Ghost's eyes were warm. Different from everything Soap had seen before.

Ghost: "Be nice and you'll get to see."

Soap: "Aye, Sir. I will be."

The "Good boy." coming back from Ghost made Soap shiver. Was it possible that Ghost had found out about his kinks just by listening through the comms or did they just work well together?

With that Ghost tugged his mask up to his nose. He was pale as if his skin didn't see much sun. Quite different from Soap's own tan. Didn't he take this thing off, when he got home? Ghost's soft looking lips were curling into a gentle lopsided smile, his pupils blown wide, letting his eyes look even darker. And hungry. Fuck. He still got this blood boiling stare. Soap wished he could figure out how his features worked together under the rest of the mask. His excitedly twitching cock reminded him of what they were about to do. He curled his fingers deeper into the Lieutenant's shoulders, signaling his growing impatience.

Soap:"Get oan with it

Ghost: "Calm your beans."

Soap: "Fuckin' Brits."

Ghost: "I thought Scots also eat beans."

Soap: "They do. I just don't like- ha!"

Soap was interrupted by lips pressing gently onto the tip of his cock. Teasing him just a little before letting go again to trail down kisses to the soft skin of his hips and a massive hand holding him without stroking, giving him just a tight squeeze. Another cheeky smile followed.

Soap: "Ghost, you sadistic arse."

Ghost: "Shut it. I thought you wanted to be a good boy."

Soap: "Don't play with me. Please."

His nagging turned into a groan when he finally felt Ghost's warm and wet mouth on him. How could a rough guy like him have such a soft mouth? He felt his tongue playing with the tip and let out a cracking moan.

Soap: "Fuck, Sir!"

Ghost took him deep and quick, giving Soap a gobble as if he was starvin'. Made him pant like a dog. He didn't push his hips forward, didn't try to. It was not his part to take more from Ghost than he was willing to give.

The taller man to his knees didn't hum or otherwise express if or how taking his cock affected him. But he was good. Far too good for someone without experience.

'So Ghost has done this before.', was his conclusion, trying not to overthink what that implied.

The tongue on him felt pure fantastic and he could even feel himself hitting the back of his throat without Ghost giving away any sign of discomfort. Done this before and skilled.

Soap: "Mm... Like that!

Desperate for more, he fisted Ghost's jacket. Almost as if he tried massaging it. Pulling on the fabric every now and then, when Ghost flicked his tongue just the right way. His knees began to get weak and his head fell back with another moan. Later he would probably think back on how he didn't even seem to care shutting up anymore. If he could only get a little more from Ghost. A satisfied hum, vibrating through his mouth, more sloppy and filthy sounds, a pleased hand patting his thigh or a teasingly firm grip around his cock, a light stroke. He would rather look back to those, when he got back to base. Thinking about it and fantasising what else Ghost could do to him was almost enough to drive him over the edge.

Soap: "L.t., I'm close."

He knew he wouldn't last long, but after being hard for hours, he hoped that Ghost didn't mind. He brushed over the balaclava, not able to grab into his hair to pull him away so he could finish himself off. He respected Ghost too much to ruin his mask or face. Instead of letting go after his warning, Ghost pushed down all the way a few more times, then choking around him. It was the first sound he made while blowing him and it drove Soap over the cliff with a long groan.

Soap: "Ghost! Ngh... Ya so good..."

He shot everything into Ghost's relentless and hot mouth. It was intense and it took him a minute or two to become functional again. After coming back to his senses, he needed to process what Ghost had just done. He definitely knew that he would come. He had heard Soap. But bloody Jesus, he just continued and swallowed everything. Why the hell would he do that...

Soap: "Fuck, Ghost... I'm sorry. You alright?"

Instead of answering Ghost licked over his reddened lips as if there had been something left on them, greedily taking everything.

'Fuck he licked his lips.', Soap repeated again.

The taller man pulled his mask down as if nothing happened and stood up. Though the dodgy outline in his trousers proved otherwise.

Soap: "I could-"

Ghost: "Get yourself a blanket before freezing to death."

Soap was stunned for a moment, taken aback by the coldness he received after what Ghost just did for him. But was it really surprising? Not really, this was Ghost after all. Dutiful and detached.

Soap: "Ghost..."

Ghost: "Sergeant."

POV Ghost

He didn't have to say anything more. Soap understood. Without another word he put his already half-undressed jeans to the side, hanging it over a workbench to dry. He grabbed a blanket from the truck. Ghost didn't need to try reading his face. Soap looked gutted.

'Fuck, I'm an idiot! How did I think this was alright?'

The blood collecting in his lower half already gave him the answer.

Soap: "How'd you get this?"

He was referring to the rolled up and securely tied blanket. He knew by the tone of Soap's voice that he didn't try to be nice or play it off. He was staying professional, conversing only the essentials. Just how Ghost wanted him to. But it still felt like shit.

Ghost: "Looted one on my way to the church."

Soap looked back to the car, obvious what he was wondering about.

Ghost: "There is only one. Take it. I'll keep watch."

Soap: "Wake me in a few hours."

Chapter Text

Song recommendation:

Human - Rag 'n' Bone Man (AI Cover | Original)

Feel Invincible - Skillet

POV Soap

Ghost ended up not waking Soap. He felt well rested thanks to that but called Ghost out for it nevertheless. They were a team. That egomaniac didn't have to pull through this alone - again. This was not a single player. It was warm and around lunchtime when Soap could put back on his dried clothes. Ghost already pressed to drive off. Not his fault for letting him sleep this long. Soap sat down on the passenger seat. The truck wheeled out the shed as soon as Soap pulled the door shut.

***

Sun was already beginning to set behind the mountain range again when they stopped. When they got out the car, Soap shut the door a little harder than required. They were standing in front of a warehouse. A tire had been made into a swing, hanging from the tree in front of it.

Soap: "Where are we?"

Ghost: Alejandro's safehouse. Gave me the location just in case."

Soap: " Why didn't he tell me?"

Was that what his 'Be careful who you trust' was about? He thought Alejandro and him got along well. Should've known better. He was a Colonel and Ghost a Lieutenant, they both ranked higher than Soap.

POV Ghost

Ghost already expected Soap to be butthurt about it. Before being a friend Alejandro was still a professional soldier. That's what got him his rank in the first place.

'Told him so.', he thought, thinking about Soap calling him his brother, 'Ugh. Not this jealousy again.'

Already wicked enough to get hard on him and giving him a blow. Couldn't allow feelings joining the mix as well. It would only hurt Simon in the end.

Ghost: "It was need to know."

Soap: "What if I needed to know?"

He didn't. Ghost wouldn't have left him behind. Neither one way nor the other.

Ghost hushed him, signaling him to kneel down.

Soap: "Pressure plate..."

Ghost: "Alejandro rigged it."

Soap: "Smart bastard."

He signed towards the window, quietly ordering Soap to go climb inside. Almost immediately after they both got into the safehouse, Ghost spotted a Laser pointing at Soap.

'Shit.'

Ghost: "Don't move!"

Instinctively he pulled out a knife, throwing it. It missed, ingraining itself into the wooden pillar instead, making his lack of sleep evident. Lucky for them or this would've ended with friendly fire and at least one dead teammate.

Rodolfo: "Que esta ahi?"

Soap: "Rodolfo!"

Rodolfo: "Soap! Ghost! You're alive!"

Ghost: "Affirmative."

The Sergeant pulled the knife out of the pillar and jumped down.

Rodolfo: "Good to see you, amigos."

Soap: "Igualo, amigo."

Since when did Soap speak Spanish so well? Did he miss something? Ghost scowled and bit his tongue, knowing he not only had problems understanding the Scot but also his Mexican teammates.

Rodolfo handed over the knife, making a comment about making a nice throw.

'Good it wasn't.'

Rodolfo: "Where were you guys?"

Ghost: "On the run."

Soap: "I was on the run. Ghost waited for me."

'Still salty over heading to the church first?'

Rodolfo: "Of course, no?"

Soap: "No."

Ghost squinted. That Rodolfo assumed they were having each other's backs was clear. He and Alejandro worked really well together. But what had gotten into Soap? Was he seriously thinkin' that he wouldn't wait for him and get him out of there? He was quick to intervene.

Ghost: "Yes. We're a team. All of us. This happened on my watch and I'll need help to fix it."

With more emphasis he looked at Soap. He wanted him to understand. What he did yesterday, pushing forward to the church alone, had been for his benefit as well.

Ghost: "No one fights alone."

POV Soap

The three of them agreed on getting Alejandro and their allies out of Grave's custody. They somehow needed to get them out of the prison.

Soap: "How do we get 'em back?"

Ghost: "By breaking in."

Soap: "And that's why I love the ghost..."

Soap tried to sound sarcastic but failed greatly, making him feel exposed. Maybe being ironic over one's own feelings was harder than just pulling a joke at other people's expense. He was glad when Rudy didn't make a comment about it. What he did instead though, was providing them with a crazy arsenal of weapons and a new vehicle. The old truck just didn't do it. Soap was getting excited. This warehouse was pure dead massive. Didn't look like much from the outside but this was like a secondary base! Well missing the gym and training ground and stuff.

The Mexican tossed the car keys to Ghost, who catched them effortlessly with a single hand.

'Nice catch, pal.'

Soap checked him out a tad longer than necessary. Thoughts wandering off to how his face looked under the mask. The lower part of it at least. His chin. His jawline. And his lips. His God damn mouth around him-

'Stop! Not now. Not again.'

Ghost: "Alejandro thought of everythin'."

Soap: "Yeah, he did... Let's go get him."

They gathered around a tactical map and Rudy provided them with some inside information before Ghost revealed his plan.

Ghost: "We'll drive to an offset and ruck up to our infill. Here. If the security towers are manned, we'll need to take them out first and rope up the wall for entry.'

His voice was dry, vibrating through Soap's spine. Was it just the lack of sleep and his used throat or was that damn bastard doing this on purpose? Soap discarded his accusation. Yes he was still mad but his sensitivity for Ghost's voice was his own fault. Couldn't blame him for that. After years of training and countless missions he should've learned how to deal with it by now.

Soap: "Wha' about cameras?"

Rodolfo: "There's CCTV in the security room."

Ghost: "We'll use them to locate Alejandro and the rest of your men."

Soap: "Let's divide and conquer. While Rudy finds Al, I'll use the cameras to help Ghost plant charges in key areas."

Ghost: "Diversions and sabotage. Nice Johnny."

For a change Ghost sounded kind. Did he feel sorry for being so detached after giving him a gobble? Soap couldn't help but feel his anger melt away. After all his L.t. did show a side of himself that nobody was allowed to see but Soap. Perhaps he should appreciate that instead of sulking. So to pour oil on troubled water he forced a lopsided smile, telling himself that everything was alright.

Soap: "I learned from the best, L.t."

POV Ghost

Later, after they had wrapped up the plan and prepared themselves, they silently made their way to the prison. Just as planned they got over the walls and into the security room. Soap and Ghost worked together, with Soap leading him through the construct while checking the cameras.

Soap: "A little help's not so bad, eh L.t.?"

Ghost: "Stay focused, Johnny."

Soap: "Just sayin'..."

Ghost could hear him grinning, not able to overhear the teasing in his voice. He knew that Soap was alluding to the fact that he had turned him down. At least the Scot wasn't sour about it anymore. But it had been the right decision. Seeing how easily he hurt Soap just confirmed how risky it would've been to let him into his pants. Time to get back to professionalism.

Ghost: "Keep it tactical, Sergeant."

Partially he was trying to order himself to do the same. The memory of Johnny's sounds, his panting and strangled moans in his ears, were still too fresh. They were intruding his thoughts. Slowly but surely Soap had made his was into his head. Before they had arrived in Mexico he hadn't spent any more thoughts on his Sergeant than what had been necessary. Most of the time. Sometimes Ghost had wondered how he could tame Soap. Had made plans on how to handle him during training. That's about it.

Except that it was a lie. He did miss Johnny during leaves. His annoying but somehow entertaining comments and jokes. Ghost was quite lonely when he was off base. He didn't have anyone back at home. No friends, no partner, no family. Maybe Johnny had always been the closest he had to a companion. Had allowed him to sneak into his life. And now he became something more than just his subordinate or friend. It was scraping on his dignity that he hadn't seen it coming. It had happened just like that, with a snap of a finger. And all it needed was for Johnny to ask for his friendship, bothering him about the mask and then standing in front of him, ready to be devoured by the starving demon inside of Simon.

'Fucking professionalism...'

POV Soap

Soap led Ghost forward, helping him to take out another Shadow. Proving himself by taking on Ghost's usual job kind of filled him with pride.

Soap: "I'm pre'y good at this, eh L.t.?"

Ghost: "I've seen be'er."

Soap: "Who?"

Ghost: "Me."

He said while shooting a guy in perfect synchronisation to his answer.

Damn. Ghost was good!

'Makes me feel like a dog in heat, gettin' all wound up about this bawbag.', he thought smiling to himself.

A few minutes later they where able to take down an entire unit of Shadows. Only one left.

Soap: "Knife him."

Ghost: "Gonna do this one my way. Watch..."

And how Soap watched. Bet that Ghost loved to have him drool over his skill demonstrations. Quite the Lieutenant. The large man jumped down the roof, milled the muppet into the ground and stabbed him. Wouldn't 've wondered if the earthy ground gave in at least a tad under the impact. He wasn't called Ghost without a reason. He was one of the best of 141. Everyone else would've probably thought of him as a monster if they'd seen Ghost like this. But Soap liked every second of it, praising his L.t. with a "Fucking beautiful, Sir.".

***

After all the killing they were finally able to make out Alejandro's location and free him. Soap kind of felt guilty for letting him wait that long. It was his fault for needing a break at the shiel after all. But they got him, that's what mattered.

Alejandro: "Stairwell leads down and out. We'll link up with the others and exfil the fuck out of here."

Rodolfo: "Exfil vehicles are set. Ghost planted charges to help us get out."

Ghost: "With Johnny's help."

Soap smiled, appreciating that Ghost went out his way to acknowledge him. Made him feel good. Nice and warm in his chest. The cold rejection had been long forgotten.

Alejandro: "I can't call Soap 'Johnny'..."

Soap: "Don't. Only Ghost can pull that off."

POV Ghost

Ghost watched the smiling Sergeant. Couldn't look away. On their way down the stairs their arms brushed against each other and he could swear that Soap could burn him. Fire and flames all over. Never had he met a person who could do that to him so easily.

They exit the building fighting another group of Shadows.

'For Christ's sake. Will this never end?'

Finally Ghost detected one of their manipulated vehicles.

'Surely that's what Johnny had waited for the entire night.'

Ghost: "Johnny. That truck's got one of our charges on it. Detonate it."

Soap: "Here it comes... Ka-freakin'-boom, baby."

Soap's voice was creeping low, obviously enjoying the destruction as the truck exploded, sending curls of fire into the night sky. Also took a few Mercs with it. Ghost could almost see Soap's passionately glowing eyes in his mind, fighting his racing heart because of it.

Ghost: "Good effect. Let's move up!"

Chapter Text

Song recommendation:

End Of The World (Slowed & Reverb) - Forgottenage

Suffer With Me (Slowed) - Liue

POV Soap

Gladly it didn't take long for Price to get them the fuck out o' there and they were finally informed why the hell Graves betrayed them. Shepherd had even covered up for him, that shithole. In a week Price will have a serious talk with him and Soap couldn't wait for it. Until then their team had been given time to recover. Especially Rodolfo, who had to stay in the improvised hospital ward after being wounded during their last fight. He was alright though. Just a safety measure.

It was not like the recovery time they had was enough for the shot wounds many of them had. Still better than nothing though. They all had experience with being injured and they'd all continue their mission, because this time it was more than just that. More than a mere mission of intrusion, take out and leaving. This was about the American missile Hassan got from Graves. And who knows which country would become this manic terrorist's target. He could disguise it under a false flag attack. This could start a bloody world war if they weren't careful.

And Soap? Soap was glad he could be part of this - fighting for the right thing. For peace. No way his wounded arm would stop him. It was a clean one. Went right along his skin like a cut. No serious damage. It had been treated professionally by now and he took antibiotics as well as prescription pain killers. Not enough for his taste though. The injury still felt quite present during the day. However the dose was still high enough to make him light-headed and ask Ghost to drink with him to drown the rest of his pain. Surprisingly the big man had agreed. Only to keep an eye on his alcohol consumption of course. - Ghost's words. What should he say? His L.t. knew him well enough to know that he'd drink regardless of him coming over or leaving Soap alone. "Better to have control over your concerning tendency for self-afflicting harm.", he had said, referring to him smoking every now and then - and his preference for explosives (not that he ever got so crazy with it that it caused an accident). Soap didn't mind the reason as long as Ghost was with him.

The Scot didn't have to wait long after dinner until someone knocked on the door. That certain someone didn't wait for Soap to open and just barged in like that, almost kicking the door in his head.

POV Ghost

Soap: "Oi! Not so fast, big man."

Ghost: "Reeking of alcohol already?"

Soap: "Hud only a beer, pal."

Ghost: "So you did start without me."

Soap was almost jumping him, swinging his uninjured arm around his neck and pulling him down to the side to greet him. Just a friendly side-hug but even that was too close for Ghost.

Soap: "C'moan Ghost. Ye just got 'ere. Take this and put on a smile for me."

Instead Ghost scowled. Not that Soap could've seen him smile anyways. Half a beer was shoved into his hands. He could only assume that this was the alcohol Soap had picked up at the bar during their mission.

Ghost: "Ye just had half of it and you're drunk already?"

Soap: "Aye, Sir. 'N now ah will get ye steamin' as well."

The Scottish dialect was stronger now that Soap was intoxicated. Ghost fought with himself, enjoying the arm around his neck and the body next to him way too much. The way Johnny treated him felt friendly. It's been some time since anyone treated him like that. Especially since he chose to wear a mask and distance himself from his teammates. Not since Roach... He pushed the last memory to the side.

Johnny let go of him, pulling out another bottle and reading the etiquette. How many drinks did he steal exactly? And how could that Scot always be so careless? Had been mad for the rest of the day but now that they were alone he suddenly seemed chuffed like usual. Maybe just the alcohol. He hadn't meant to give in so easily to Soap's offer for a drink. Ghost knew he had to be the reasonable one of them. But Johnny just wouldn't stop nagging. And Ghost was easily swayed by the shorter man. One of the reason's why he couldn't refrain from letting his undisciplined behaviour go over and over again. So there he was, in his Sergeant's room, asking him for a proper drink.

Ghost: "No beer for me. What else you got?"

Soap: "Tequila. Picked it juist fur ye disgustin' ass."

Ghost: "Alright. Pour me one."

Soap: "Ugh... Actually enjoyin' tha' dog pish? Thought it wis only a joke."

Ghost: "Shut up, Johnny."

When he offered him a glass, Soap tried to steal back the beer in his hand. Ghost quickly took advantage of his height, holding his arm up so the shorter man couldn't reach it. He couldn't hold back a laugh from bullying him just a little bit. It gained him an adorably blushed face from Soap.

Ghost: "You've had enough already. Step down soldier."

At first Johnny just pouted, but eventually obeyed, taking a step back.

Ghost: "Good boy. Now sit down."

While Ghost himself took a seat next to the desk, Soap settled on the bed, legs spread provocatively. One of his hands was loosely put onto the mattress, the other laid on his well trained thighs. Close enough to his crotch to call it obscene. Looking at that display alone made Ghost almost taste Johnny on his tongue all over again.

'Eyes up, Simon!', he stressed, having to force his head up to help out his stuck eyes.

But that wasn't really better either. Glacier eyes watched his every move as Ghost pushed up the balaclava and downed the entire glass. Bourbon tasted much better but it'll do. It didn't take long until he began feeling warm under his mask. Not so much that it caused him discomfort under the fabric but still noticeable. With less restrain his gaze was now wandering over Johnny again. Since he had ordered him to sit down, he hadn't said anything. Unusual. His slightly overgrown mohawk was messy, breathing too loud, cheeks rosy, blue eyes now clouded with something Ghost couldn't deal with at the moment. Ghost poured himself a second glass. He couldn't take this evening without another one.

Ghost: "Cat caught your tongue?"

Soap: "Ah wis thinkin'."

Ghost: "'bout what?"

Soap: "Tis unfair that ye didnae get tae enjoy yersel' in the shiel."

He raised an eyebrow, unable for Soap to see under the mask. That brat grinned at him as if to pick a fight.

'Want a challenge, Johnny?'

Ghost: "Sure did."

Soap eyes suddenly went wide in surprise, face glowin' red. Happy about his victory, Ghost smiled to himself. But he should've known better. Soap wasn't that easy to throw off. He frowned and his comeback sounded irritated as if accepting the challenge troubled him. In another situation Ghost would've shook his head. That mutt better should've learned when to stop.

Soap: "Enjoyed yer own hands?"

Ghost: "Affirmative."

There was a shift in Soap's expression. Then he leaned forward, grabbing the armrests of the chair Ghost was sitting in. With a yank it wheeled towards the bed. Not gonna lie, it had Ghost by surprise but it excited him just more.

Ghost: "What? You jealous, Johnny?"

Soap: "O' yer hands?"

Ghost: "I like my hands."

He teased him with a flirtatious undertone that was probably coming from the tequila. It didn't stop Soap to throw daggers at him, eyes feral and his face getting closer now. Ghost gave his best to lean his head back so he could answer with a dominant and punishing stare.

Soap: "Prefer 'em on me o'er than yersel'."

Ghost: "Be careful what you wish for, Johnny."

POV Soap

How the hell did Soap get into this situation? Sittin' in the room Al had assigned to him - a single room at that (most of them had to share a room full of bunk beds) - with Ghost right in front of him with booze in their hands. He was being stared down by those bonnie dark eyes. It made Soap want to have more of him. Touch him. Kiss him. Feelings that he had learned to live with were getting more intense with every moment they spent together. Ghost cursed him when he started reciprocating his banter. At the latest when he went down on him in the shiel. And Ghost had rejected him. He didn't know what to do with the information that Ghost had been wanking off afterwards. When did he do that anyway? He must have waited 'till he was asleep. Should that be interpreted in his favour or not? It's still Ghost so probably not.

Soap grumbled and leaned back to bring back the distance between them. Distance that he needed to clear his mind. Gettin' another rejection wasn't part o' his plan for tonight. If banter and flirting (and a blowjob) was all that Ghost was ready to give then he needed to be fine with it. Even if it wasn't nearly enough now that Soap couldn't handle himself anymore.

He reached for the already opened and half empty beer that was now standing on the desk. Just wanted to be a tad more tanked-up. The beer had gotten out of his system way too quickly. Ghost was faster than him, grabbing his wrist.

Ghost: "You shouldn't"

He scolded, his hand tightening when Soap tried to wiggle free.

Soap: "C'moan. Wound's still hurtin, L.t."

Ghost: "Thought you got pain killers?"

Soap: "Affirmative. But they're not enough."

Ghost: "When was the last time you got checked, Sergeant?"

Soap: "Yesterday, Sir."

Ghost took a moment, the visible part of his face unreadable.

Ghost: "Let me look at it then."

Soap: "Ya not a medic."

Ghost: "I've got many qualities. Already patched you up before, didn't I? I'll let you have the beer for it."

Soap mumbled in agreement.

He fought to get the tight-fitting fabric of his shirt over his arm, allowing Ghost to help him out of it. The coyness from the first time now lost in the meds and alcohol. When it was off, gloves started wandering over his body, inspecting the injury. Leaving fleeting touches down his arm and up his shoulder that weren't entirely necessary. Soap felt hot and bothered because of it. His hands cramped around the bottle neck, glad he got it back. Besides being able to hold onto something, he could already feel the beer workin' wonders, dulling the pain.

Ghost: "You need a new bandage."

Soap: "I have a med pack in the desk drawer. Make it quick."

Pulling off the old plaster tape was uncomfortable. Despite Soap's plea, Ghost insisted on being careful. He slowly peeled it back, unintentionally making it more hurtful than a fast rip off would've been. He applied the disinfectant, which stung like hell. As if feeling it himself Ghost's fingers squeezed his sides as if to distract Soap from the pain. The touch felt strangely intimate, sending shivers down Soap's spine. He wasn't even sure if it was intentional or if Ghost had even noticed, looking at the injury and bruises in what appeared to be high concentration. When the disinfectant had dried, Ghost snapped out of it, putting on a new bandage. After taping it in place, his hands traveled over Soap's body once more. This time more appreciative. Tracing from his shoulder to his collarbone and further down to his chest. Soap breathed heavily in anticipation. Ghost however stopped there, going back to his arm, instead lightly soothing the bruises there that peaked out from under the patch. The fabric of his gloves scratched slightly on the sensitive area around the wound.

Soap: "Ghost. Take 'em off."

Ghost: "My gloves?"

Soap could easily make out the laboured breath Ghost let out at the request. And he swore he could feel it brushing over his shoulder despite the mask. He turned his face to him, meeting him with affection drowned eyes.

Soap: "Yes. I need to feel ye. Please."

Ghost: "Bloody hell, Johnny. Don't make me do this."

With that Ghost receded and stood up, avoiding to look at him. Soap let out a tense sign, missing the closeness already. That fuckin' Brit made him so impatient.

Soap: "Ya' such a cunt. Why not?"

Ghost ignored the insult and change in tone. Letting it go like he always does.

Ghost: "God, you make me go crazy. It's hard enough already to hold back. I don't want you to do this just because I'm your Lieutenant."

Soap: "Fuck, Ghost. 's that the problem? Ye surely willnae pressure me intae anythin'. I've wanted this fur a long time now."

To emphasize his point Soap pushed up to face Ghost head-on, daring him to look at him. But suddenly standing up made him feel dizzy. Almost tripping, Soap found balance by leaning against the taller man. Feeling his warmth on his face and taking in his smell of sweet amber and spices like this felt nice. It took him so little to let himself get lost in the sensation, humming satisfied and letting his hands wander mindlessly.

POV Ghost

Reflexively Ghost held onto the swaying Scot before he would fall. It took everything not to flinch at the sudden intimate touch when Johnny's hands wandered around his hip, grabbing Ghost's butt and squeezed a little. Ghost responded with a deep snarl and frowned. Soap only giggled at that.

'That shameless brat!'

Soap: "I wouldnae mind a tad o' power dynamic."

Soap's voice was deep and quiet, almost only a whisper. Fuck. Did that drunken bastard try to seduce him?

Ghost: "You'd like tha'?"

Soap: "Aye, Sir. Enjoy ya orderin' me aroond a tad... O' callin' me good."

A dirty smile creeped up on the Lieutenant's face.

Ghost: "Fits you well."

Soap: "How come?"

Ghost: "Have always thought you'd be a naughty little mutt. Bet you'd want to be mounted like one for the entire day if you could."

Soap whined in embarrassment, burying his face in Ghost's hoodie and cursing something Ghost couldn't understand. Having him in his arms like this, with his head on Johnny's shoulder made him feel something he hadn't before with anyone else. It scared him but at the same time he enjoyed this too much, not wanting to push Johnny away. Soap's hands still lingered on his butt when Ghost noticed the drunken man moving, slowly pushing further into him, restlessly shifting around. His hands caressed his behind, not letting him back off. Ghost's eyes went wide when he noticed what he was up to, rubbing their hips together and letting out a strangled moan.

Ghost: "Hell, Johnny. Stop moving around so much!"

Soap: "I cannae help it, L.t.. I just..."

Hands were slipping under his clothes now, mapping his back, his sides and hips, his stomach. Feeling the way Soap became more aggressive with his touches made Ghost pant audibly, which just encouraged him further.

Ghost: "Careful, Johnny... Too much of this will get you killed in the end."

It was an empty threat and Soap knew that. Ghost would never.

Soap: "Quoting Queen songs now, L.t.?"

Ghost: "I think you got the lyrics wrong. But he's an icon."

Soap: "You're the fuckin' icon."

Ghost: "If you'd let me... Don't know 'bout the icon part though."

He laughed darkly. It was supposed to be a harmless flirtatious joke but Johnny took him by his words.

Soap: "Hell yeah. I wid let ye fuck me."

Ghost: "Quite the big mouth you've got, Sergeant."

He tried to sound at least a bit penalising but Soap was as quick-witted as always. At best a little more vulgar than usual.

Soap: "There also fits a lot in it, Sir."

Ghost blushed, glad that Soap couldn't see under the mask and greasepaint.

Ghost: "Bloody Jesus, Johnny! You're out of your mind."

Soap: "Not yet. But maybe I'd be if you'd finally stick your thing in me."

Soap had a challenging expression, fearlessly and half-lidded looking him into the eyes. It made something in Ghost snap. Without further thinking about it Ghost shoved him on the bed, looking down on him. Grazing his bare chest more hungrily than he'd ever admit. He didn't want to hold back any longer. His restraints were out the window. And the Tequila was most likely part of it all.

Ghost: "Undress and turn around, Sergeant. I think you need a lesson on how to behave properly around your superiors."

As if completely sobered up in seconds, Johnny did as he was told. He fumbled with his belt and threw away his trousers, his boxers followed shortly after. With flushed cheeks and ears he proceeded to crawl onto the bed on all fours, mumbling something incomprehensible. Ghost slipped out of his gloves, placing them onto the desk next to his empty glass. With his now bare fingers he traced the muscles on his back down to his ass, letting his hand slap it with a delicious sound. Surprised, Soap yelped, sounding very aroused.

'Fuck, Johnny...'

Ghost: "Lay down."

Soap followed his orders, watching Ghost undoing his belt and opening his trousers. Ghost tried to tease him by giving him a little show. Slowly pulling down the jeans to reveal his bulging boxers underneath. Johnny reacted beautifully, restlessly shifting around on the bed.

Ghost: "Feels good to hump your sheets?"

Instead of answering, he only let out a hungry "Mmh...". Ghost climbed behind him, leaning forward to feel his skin against him. He pushed him deeper into the mattress, pinning him down between it and his heavy body, paying attention not to put pressure on his injured shoulder.

Ghost: "I can't hear you, Sergeant."

The shorter man did his best trying not to impatiently wiggle with his hips in search of more friction. Ghost fixed his uninjured arm behind his back, preventing him from moving so much.

Soap: "Ghost, please!"

Ghost: "What do you want, Johnny?"

Soap: "Take yer fuckin' pants off and finally give it tae me!"

He quietly added a "Please, Sir." at the end of his sentence, letting Ghost smirk in satisfaction.

Ghost: "As you wish."

He tossed away his boxers, rubbing himself against Soap's ass. The spot were he had slapped him had taken on a lovely rosy shade.

Soap: "Holy shit, Ghost! Ya huge."

Ghost: "Shh... I know you can take it, darling. Bet ye take big cocks like they're nothin'."

Soap whined a little, sheepishly muttering again. It was quite amusing to see the usually cheeky man like this.

Ghost: "What is it, huh? Speak up."

Soap pushed his face into the pillow in embarrassment, making him hard to understand. To reassure him, Ghost run his fingers through his brown hair, followed by a harsh tug.

Ghost: "Wha' was that?"

Soap: "Have been on top 'til now..."

The revelation made Ghost's eyes go wide and his heart skipped a beat. It was well imaginable that Johnny would be topping considering everything he knew about him. He was a bold man - a well trained soldier at that. His flirting was also quite forward. How he had thrown himself at Ghost alone showed his usual approach on how he lured men into his bed. It made sense. Ghost let go of his arm and gave him more room to move - even to possibly escape if he wished to. - He didn't.

Ghost: "What now? I thought you wanted to be fucked. Should we do somethin' else then?"

By now Soap's red flush had spread over his ears and neck. He grabbed Ghost's thighs as if to keep him close.

Soap: "No wait! Ah still want this. Might sound a bit odd but I... I juist never fun somebody willin' tae top me. I attract bottoms like shite the flies-"

Ghost: "Language, Sergeant."

He snapped and Soap just grumbled in response.

Soap: "Tis not like I dinnae want to. Findin' the right person just had been straecht up impossible."

He laughed it off but Ghost could hear the insecurity in his voice, dialect almost slurring his sentences to incomprehensibility. He continued his monologue like that.

Soap: "'Ah guess that's the disadvantage o' bein' too fit fur the average civilian male. I must come off as-"

Ghost: "You're more than just fit, Johnny."

Ghost interrupted him again, trying to comfort him. However the compliment fell on deaf ears and Soap kept on babbling.

Soap: "Aye, 'ah juist said that. I'm too fit. Never thought I wid think o' myself as intimidating. I'm not even that tall. I mean just look at ye. Ya so buff. Next to ye I-"

Ghost: "Stop talking now, will ya? You still haven't told me what we should do now."

He let his hand caress Soap's back to sooth him, following the divots of his muscles.

Soap: "Ye can go oan but please be gentle with me, no?"

At that Ghost let his hand trail down his back and pressed a thumb into one of his buttocks. Soap relaxed noticeably under him, seemingly trusting him. It let his heart fasten its pace. He then leaned forward, pushing his mask into the mohawk, sucking in his smell. Citrus, musk and hop from the beer.

Ghost: "I'll do my best to make you feel good, Johnny."

Soap: "You're a dream, L.t.. Let me get you some-..."

He wiggled his arm free and opened the drawer next to the bed and gave Ghost a full pot of vaseline. Probably got it from the doc the other day. They couldn't use condoms with it but they didn't have any anyway. It didn't matter since both weren't active and they just had a check up a few days ago. Not the best option still but it would do, he figured.

Ghost: "Somehow I'm surprised that you didn't bring a bottle of lube with you."

Soap: "Away and bile yer heid."

***

Ghost gently grabbed his cheeks, pulling them apart and thumbing his entrance with the lubricant, making sure there would be enough of it. He watched closely how Soap's back heaved as he breathed heavily in anticipation. Then he carefully pushed his index finger inside. One at first, then the second. He was so damn tight, moaning as if he was on the brink of cumming just from his fingers inside him. There was no doubt that his poor puppy enjoyed his first time.

His? He shook off the weird aftertaste of the word on his mind. Ghost had to think about that another time. Johnny deserved his full attention now. Attention on how he tried to get himself off by rubbing against the mattress while fucking himself back on his fingers. Ghost wondered if this is how he'd get himself off when he couldn't find himself a cock. He licked over his lips, imagining Soap doing it himself while he watched. But he didn't want this to be over too quickly. Johnny wanted him inside after all. So he pulled out before yanking his hips up, away from the friction the bed offered. Soap let out a protesting sound but then complied. Ghost pursued preparing him, now pushing a third finger in, stretching him painfully this time.

It felt like hours had passed until he finally loosened up while having little praises whispered at him. The fingers now easily slip his fingers in and out. It made an obscene squelching sound that both of them seemed to enjoy.

Ghost: "Are you ready, darlin'? I want to put it in now. Feels like I'm exploding otherwise."

A loud groan from Soap followed his words. Hopefully the walls of this safehouse were thick enough that nobody had heard that. Perhaps he should have shoved his face down into the pillow to silence him. But he didn't. The sound Johnny let out were far too enticing.

Soap: "Yes please, Sir! Take me!"

Ghost: "You're doin' so good for me, Johnny. But try to keep your voice down!"

Then he pressed forward, slowly sinking into him. When the tip was inside Soap twitched, forcing out a strained huff from Ghost. The twitching repeated every few centimeters and Ghost needed to stop so Johnny would relax before he could push in further.

'Makin' this hard for me to do this, Johnny.'

Some time later they eventually managed to find a pace that had both of them sweating in heat. It was slow and deep. But Ghost wanted more, just a little. In an attempt to push even deeper, he pressed him down into the mattress again. His pale chest lush against Soap's tan back. Arms holding onto his smaller frame in a tight hug until he had everything of him. Face buried in his neck, taking in Soap's smell as best as he could through the fabric and every little detail of how his body felt against his, every small twitch of pleasure. Ghost wanted to own him, marking his territory and never letting go. He was too lost in the sensation to question his possessive thoughts. Instead he concentrated on not forcefully jamming into him. He wanted Johnny to enjoy every damn minute of this.

From all the panting and moaning his mask had become clammy on his face but he resisted the urge to pull it off. It kept him just distracted enough to keep going. Sliding almost all the way out and then back inside, planting himself deep into Soap.

Ghost: "Bloody hell, Johnny! You're takin' me so well."

Soap: "Ah, Ghost..."

Ghost: "What is it?"

Soap: "Ghost. I'm close!"

He closed his hand around Soap's throat, forcing his head back against his shoulder. His body was practically immobilised now, fixed in Ghost's embrace, ready for him to use him. He had to hush him, when it had Johnny arching his back and moaning over the angle he pushed against his sweet spot. But it wasn't enough, Ghost could tell by the frustrated noises between those moans. So he leaned back on his knees, back straight, pulling Johnny with him. He still held onto him like dear life, one hand around his throat, the other now stroking Johnny. Through the balaclava he pressed a little kiss and a soft bite on his shoulder.

Ghost: "Go on. Come for me."

With a weak growl and angry twitching around Ghost's cock, Johnny made a white sticky mess on the sheets as he came. His hands reached back, grabbing the taller man's thighs once again. Finger nails dug into his skin, leaving red marks as if to tell him that he was desperate for Ghost to finally come.

Ghost: "Hold on, sweet puppy. Ngh... Just a little longer."

Only a few faster thrusts later Ghost finished, filling him up nicely.

'Fuck... This was good.'

Strange what these tender feelings for Johnny could make him do when he let them take control. He rarely had been this gentle during a fuck - man or woman.

Soap sunk back onto the bed and didn't talk, just huffed in exhaustion. He was still out of it. Ghost reached for the mohawk and petted him.

Ghost: "You alright? I'll get you somethin' to clean up."

Soap: "Yes, Sir. More than alright. Thank you."

Ghost: "You can stop calling me 'Sir' for now. First get down from your high. You did great, Johnny."

He helped him to clean himself and the sheets before getting dressed again. Soap had already dosed off half-way. He had drained him really well apparently.

Ghost: "I will let you rest now. See you tomorrow morning."

Soap gave a satisfied hum as a response.

Chapter Text

Song recommendation:

Wicked Game (Cover) - Art And The Resistance

POV Ghost

'This had been a bad idea', Ghost thought after meeting Gaz while attempting to sneak back to his own quarters.

His teammate had played it off by telling him he couldn't sleep so he had been wandering around the safehouse. But Ghost could tell that he was suspicious about his Lieutenant leaving Soap's room this late at night. Hoping Gaz didn't hear them, Ghost had maintained a confident stance while the other man continued with asking how the day off went and how Soap was doing. A few days ago nobody would have resolved asking him about Soap's personal life but it seems like the change in their relationship hadn't went completely unnoticed. Soap, that flaunting idiot, had apparently told Gaz about their plan on drinking together - but that was hours ago and Gaz knew that. They chatted a little before the Sergeant eventually had finally given up on asking too many questions.

Ghost fell back on his bed. He had to pull himself together so this wouldn't happen again in the future. In the future? Was it even likely that Soap wanted this to happen again? It could've easily been a one night thing. He had sucked him off and Soap had repaid by letting Ghost have his way... But he had been under the influence of his pain killers and alcohol. It made him feel guilty despite the clear consent and him enjoying how Ghost had fucked him. Still Ghost wasn't sure if Johnny had even wanted tonight to evolve like this. If his delirium mad made him do things he wouldn't have otherwise. Ghost folded his hands above his face. What was Johnny doing to him? He truly had the habit of always hurting the ones he cared or the most. First he was abusing his rank to blow him and then he misused his teammate's intoxicated state. He was ashamed of himself for not having been able to stop Soap, when he had pushed himself on him so keenly. Ghost just couldn't resist when he needed to the most. What had happened to his training? Discipline and patience. He used to be excellent at those. Something had happened to Ghost - to Simon. And it had to do with their lasted mission.

That night Ghost could hardly sleep. Too much was going on inside his head. Spiraling thoughts about Johnny asking to be friends after almost dying at the hand of Graves and his Shadows. His shot wound cutting through his arm, the blood on his shirt and the swabs as he had cleaned the injury. The bruises accompanying it while healing. Has Simon been worried? Was that it? Could worry alone make him do all this?

The memory of Roach was ingrained in his brain, usually as fresh as on day one. Stuck there forever. But when he was around Soap there was nothing his thoughts surrounded more than those lively blue eyes and smug smile. Maybe this was his twisted way of making amends. Replacing the unpleasant image of his past with someone who was very much alive. Someone he liked and cared for. Just by trying to keep close to the Scot , making sure he was alright in every way possible. As if taking taking care of his needs could somehow guarantee he's going to survive on the battlefield. Ensuring that his only chance of not ending up alone again isn't getting lost in the smoke of gun powder.

Whatever the reason might be , it was no excuse for those things he did with him. It was a combination of guilt, worry and confusion that led him to the conclusion that for the following days he should avoid the Sergeant as best as he could. Getting attached was the number one reason for getting yourself and others hurt.

And he was good at it. Though he couldn't tell if he should be grateful Soap didn't try to approach him either.

The next day Ghost wandered through the base, not knowing what to do besides trying to clear his mind from Soap. So he opted for paying Price a visit who filled him in on how to get back the base. He had seen Price struggle with the request and saying that his plans had been less than expected were an understatement. - Team Ghost. But even more so was the extent with which he was fine showing his face. It's been a long time since anyone had seen him and it made Ghost recall his conversation with Soap. The timing was... unfavourable at best. Letting Soap see his face after what they had done together was causing an uncomfortable feeling in his gut. But this team had proven its loyalty and Ghost was ready to invest in an even stronger bond between them all. So he agreed.

Still having a storm live inside his stomach rent free made him saunter through the safehouse. In the end he found himself opening the door to the improvised hospital ward. Rodolfo would soon be released. Checking on his teammate's progress didn't seem to be a bad idea.

Ghost: "Rodolfo?"

Instead of being greeted by the Sergeant, he found him sleeping. It was okay though, they all needed a rest. He was about to leave again but a then he spotted an opportunity to get some clarity. A very stupid one at that.

Ghost: "Rodolfo?"

He asked again, just to make sure he was indeed asleep.

When there was no answer, he sat down next to him and reached out to lay his hand on his. He was looking for something. Worry. The same kind he had for Soap. He needed to know if this just all boiled down to an unhealthy concern for his teammates in general or if there was something more... concerning was involved. But there was nothing.

If anyone asked, Ghost would've denied running from the truth. But he did. Trying to prove himself wrong, he leaned in a bit. Their faces were close now. Rudy's expression was relaxed. He had a strong nose and jaw. If he'd had to take a guess he'd say that he was more than just a few years older than him. Probably in his mid 30s. He was objectively good looking but still Ghost felt... nothing. This man wasn't Johnny. Didn't make his heart ache the same way. Not even when he was laying in a hospital bed.

So it wasn't worry after all. Ghost sighed. He knew what this meant. - He did like Johnny.

'Bloody hell, Simon. You must be out of your mind.'

Was it the genuineness in Johnny's banter that made him fall for him or had Simon always felt this way about the Scot? A feeling that was turning his insides out.

He took a last glance at Rodolfo. A quick thought of what would've happened if his knife had hit him back then intruded his mind. It was a reminder that he still didn't feel comfortable in close proximity to other people. Except Johnny apparently. Had been like this since Roach died. It was the reason why he distanced himself from Price and everyone else. Gaz and Soap didn't even have a chance to know him before that.

Ghost backed off, trying to get the disturbing image of Roach's burned corpse out of his head. The smell had stayed just as prominent over the years. Still stunned by the flashback he didn't even fight back when suddenly someone grabbed the back of his hoodie and pulled him away with a strength he didn't expect. The chair he was sitting on hit the ground as he was shoved forcefully against a wall. Alejandro pressed his arm threateningly against his throat.

Alejandro: "Qué crees que estás haciendo? What do you think you are doing?"

Ghost: "I did nothing."

He said out of reflex.

Now he had finally lost the rest of his dignity. He couldn't blame Alejandro for that though.

Alejandro: "Didn't look like 'nothing' to me, chico. With all due respect, don't ever molest mi hermano again. Comprende?"

Ghost only understood like half of what the Mexican said but it was clear what he wanted. He tried to stand his ground despite knowing who was at fault here.

Ghost: "Colonel."

Alejandro didn't answer. Ghost's menacing eyes were enough to get dismissed. But it didn't prevent the angry gaze from following him as he left the room. Now he only felt more uncomfortable. Shit.

***

Price bit off a piece from his sandwich. They were sitting on the roof of the safehouse, keeping watch. The sun was rising after another sleepless night. Tingeing the sky in awfully beautiful oranges and yellows. Something about it was sickening. The Captain was the one who broke the silence.

Price: "How long has it been that you've trained, Ghost?"

The question caught him out of the blue. They hadn't talk a lot during watch. Nothing besides details about their operation as least.

Ghost: "Didn't train since coming from leave, Sir."

Price: "Then get Soap and train with him. You both should stay fit."

Ghost grit his teeth. He knew he couldn't go out of his way forever. He was afraid to look into his eyes, knowing the cause why he felt so uneasy around him. Why he enjoyed their banter and flirting so much. And why he wanted to own him, protect him and never let him leave just to get hurt during a mission. He didn't want to like Soap like that. Didn't plan it. But he couldn't change it either.

Price: "It's only been a week since he got injured so be careful."

Ghost: "Always am."

Especially when it's Soap. But Ghost actively tried not to think about that.

Price: "You got along well after what happened recently. I was surprised to see you warming up to him after all these years."

Ghost only let out a meaningful hum. The old man seemed to notice his struggle. He knew how Ghost felt about making friends. He wasn't the only one who lost Roach. They just had different ways of coping with it.

Price: "Everything alright, son?"

Ghost: "This will not interfere with my duties, if that's what you're asking."

Price: "I understand..."

Ghost's stomach twisted at the thoughtful face Price made in response to the short turn down. He can't know. He must never know.

Price: "You can go now, Simon. I can end today's shift alone."

POV Soap

Days went by and Soap began wondering if Ghost had secretly left Mexico without him. He didn't even see him during lunch breaks. An unwell feeling creeped up on him, thinking about waking up alone after their night together. At first he had been more than happy about the current development and didn't actually mind sleeping alone in the relatively small bed. But now things looked different. He didn't try to search for the vanished Brit. Probably had a reason for not showing himself. Was it regret? Soap tried not to let it get to him. Enthusiastic Soap, that's who he was. So he swallowed down the disappointment as best as he could.

It made his heart flutter even more so when the masked man finally did show up and even asked him to train together. Ghost was always able to get his hopes up. Made it feel like he was a young lass.

***

Outside and behind the safehouse both men stretched to warm up their muscles. After not being active for a while they took extra time to make sure to do this properly. This was especially important for Soap since he was still recovering from his injured arm. But Soap wouldn't be Soap if he didn't like a bit of a challenge.

Soap: "Don't go easy on me, Ghost. I can take it."

Ghost: "What about your pain?"

His towel landed on a dusty plastic chair. It must be in the desert for quite a while now.

Soap: "Tis not that bad. Pain killers are alright now."

Soap didn't miss the glint in the Brit's eyes.

Ghost: "Glad to hear that, Johnny.

During their sparring Soap could tell that, despite his declaration, Ghost never hit his right side. So he tried to use it to his advantage and attacked him with the neglected side. But instead of landing a hit he got tackled by the taller man and was thrown to the sandy ground. He jolted a little at the sudden contact. Too bad they had to train outside since the safehouse didn't have a gym. He definitely needed a new bandage after this.

Ghost: "Sorry."

Soap: "Keep comin' at me. Am nae done with ye yet, Lt."

He wrapped his legs around his back, preventing him from getting away.

Ghost: "If you say so, Johnny."

Soap tried to swift the other man off his feet using his weight around his middle. Ghost did well keeping his balance though.

Soap: "Why can't dogs dance?"

Ghost: "Really? Now?... Tell me."

Soap: "They've got two left feet."

With that he put an arm around his neck and with enough force he was finally able to pull him down. His squinting eyes beneath the mask told him that he accepted the challenge.

Ghost: "What did the Scot say when the bartender took his pint away?"

Soap: "Oh no..."

Ghost: "Where did my Glasgow?"

Soap: "You'll regret that one, Ghost."

Breathless Ghost struggled to free himself from his grip. A devilish grin left Soap's lips. They were both sweating, warmed up from the training and the sun shining as relentlessly as Soap's next attempt to throw Ghost over. This time trying to distract him.

Soap: "What goes in dry and hard and exits soft and wet?"

With a now stronger grip Ghost pinned his hands next to his head. They both panted heavily.

'Have been holdin' back, L.t.!'

Soap: "Bubble gum."

Ghost: "That's enough, Johnny."

The laboured tone of his voice made him realise what they were doing. Their sparring had turned into ground fighting. They had been suggestively moving against each other, Ghost trapped above him, making him move against his hip with every move. And he could feel that Ghost wasn't entirely unaffected by it.

The thought of someone catching them out in the open like that was enough that Soap immediately went limp under him and let go.

Soap: "Might've gotten carried a way a tad."

Ghost got off of him, helping him to get back on his feet as well. Then he grabbed his towel and swiped away the sweat on his neck where his balaclava ended. Ghost was on the brink of leaving already when Soap caught his hoodie. He must be really warm under that. How could that bastard wear this during this fuckin' weather anyway?

Soap: "Wait."

Ghost: "What is it?"

Soap: "Do ye want to come over to my room?"

It was quite the direct question. Unsure about the answer, Ghost looked away. It hit Soap more than their fighting. Making his heart beat fast at a now unpleasant pace as the rejection seeped in. He let the fabric of the hoodie slide through his fingers.

POV Ghost

Ghost: "I don't think we should do this..."

It physically hurt, rejecting Johnny's invitation. But there were enough reasons why he couldn't just give in.

Ghost: "Gaz caught me leaving your room. Had been asking me all kinds of nosy questions."

Soap's disappointment gave way to fright.

Soap: "Fuck. What' he say?"

Ghost: "He knew we were drinking together that evening but got suspicious about my late return."

Soap: "Ye think he heard us?"

His insides twisted hearing him say 'us'. If anyone had indeed heard 'them' it was rather likely that Soap was the only one that was loud enough. But he would be damned if he said that out loud.

Ghost: "Not sure. Told him we had to talk about something classified."

Soap pressed his lips into a flat line.

Soap: "Hope he believed that."

Ghost: "I don't want to risk finding out."

He saw Soap's face change into something he didn't want to look at. It was different from his usual easygoingness. And Ghost felt truly bad about it. He was the one who started all of this after all. He made a move on Johnny and now left him hangin'. But above that he was worried that Gaz's meddling could cause trouble. Afraid that Soap would have to face even more severe consequences since he was only a Sergeant. What he had with Johnny or rather the chance of losing exactly that made him feel something he hadn't felt in a long time. Fear. If he allowed himself now to be with him, he couldn't promise he'd lose himself in the process and make stupid decisions again. Like pinning him to the ground and making him beg to get more than just the friction through their joggers. Taking him to his room and letting him moan so beautifully all over again until someone would eventually hear. They would get caught and Soap would get punished. Maybe send away or even dishonorably discharged. They'll never see each other again. But still he just couldn't resist.

Ghost: "Tomorrow will be the meeting with Shepherd. We still have to find that last missile. And after that Price can send us home. Give me time until then."

Soap's face lit up.

Soap: "Better survive then."

Ghost: "Same goes for you."

Soap: "I promise."

Chapter Text

Song recommendation:

Killers From The Northside (slowed & reverb) - Kordhell

POV Soap

During their meeting, Price and Shepherd exchanged blows. It was quite the hostile conversation. The General had never been an easy supervisor but listening to what he had to say this time, Soap could understand why Price was this angry. After refusing to call off Graves the bald man laughed at their Captain. The building pressure of anger in his chest made Soap clench his fists.

Shepherd: "He's a dog with a bone and I highly recommend you don't try and take it."

Price: "This is your last chance to change your mind."

Shepherd: "Then what?"

Price: "Then after I go for him, I'm coming for you."

With that Price ended the call, closing the laptop and called them together. Like they did before when it was only Soap, Ghost and Rodolfo, they gathered to make a plan for what they all had waited and hoped for - taking back the HQ.

Rodolfo: "When?"

Ghost: "Now!"

It was a surprise when Ghost stepped in as if he knew this was coming. So this was what he was up to while he was missing - planning this operation with Price. It felt reassuring that their Captain was determined to help Los Vaqueros with or without Shepherd's approval. It was just the right thing to do. Necessary even. This involved politics after all.

Price: "This is a fight against our own. We're not 141 and Los Vaqueros on this. We're a team."

The men nodded in agreement, while Ghost grabbed something under the table, throwing the content on it. Multiple masks with skull prints slid over the surface. Soap's heart picked up pace, practically hammering against the walls of his chest. Will they need to do what he thinks they will do?

Price: "Ghost team."

Nothing in the world could have prepared him for what happened next. It all went so fast and unexpected as suddenly Soap stared at Ghost's unmasked face and he could swear that his already racing heart skipped a beat at the view. Or probably a few.

Price: "Good to see you again, Simon."

'Simon'

The Scot couldn't believe that behind the mask and those deadly eyes, which pierced into his soul every God damn time, was just a young lookin' lad. Maybe around the same age as him. His clean shaven face pronounced the contrast of his softer and harsher features. His hair and eyebrows were light blonde. Soap didn't know many people with that hair colour. Probably dyed then. Hints of his black greasepaint got smudged into one of the light strands, making him look even more nefarious. It fitted him really well. Ghost- Simon... was fuckin' braw. How could he have a crush on a man this handsome and not know about it for years?

Their eyes met and Soap needed to suppress a flinch at the first contact. Eyes not threatening anymore but intense nonetheless, though much lighter, soft almost. Their gazes locked for a moment too long for it to be coincidental. Soap couldn't read the words written behind the brown orbs but he wished he could. Wanted to know what's on Simon's mind when they looked - really looked at each other for the first time.

'Steamin' fuckin' Jesus...'

It dawned on him that this bonnie lad's mouth had been soiled by his cum. Needless to say that having been fucked by a man this attractive now seemed like nothing more than a pipe dream. How the hell did he deserve that!? Did the Brit truly take a liking to him or had he been playin' with him just to get off himself? It was hard to assess Simon's motives... Soap instantly banned these toxic thoughts from his mind. It was still difficult not to separate Simon from Ghost. But Ghost would never do such a selfish thing... No? They made each other promise that they would meet when they were off duty didn't they?

Soap took one of the masks and pulled it over his face. Simon followed shortly after.

***

During their operation they successfully made out Graves location. The coward bastard had barricaded himself in a motherfucking tank and even dared to take a piss on their uniforms. He was a traitor and Soap had been determined to treat him like one. In the end hiding himself didn't save him from being blown up. Being a demolition expert wasn't in vain. Soap reckoned that shithole didn't see that comin'! If it wasn't so fucking tragic he would've laughed. Seriously.

The next target had been Valeria. After detaining her she was easy to interrogate and told them where Hassan was hiding with the last missile.

Chicago.

***

After seeing off Al and Rudy, their team was sitting in an aircraft moving north towards Chicago. It was finally quiet. Shit had been going down way too fast.

Soap and Ghost were sitting next to each other at the far back. Of course Soap had saved him a seat despite it not really being necessary. There were enough seats left free between the two and the others. Price and Gaz sat at the front, the latter closing his eyes, trying to relax between their missions. Soap did the same and thus he had time thinkin'. About Ghost. His face. His real name.

'Simon', he kept saying in his head over and over in an attempt to connect the handsome face behind the mask - and the name fit him quite well - with the brutal man Ghost was.

They were the same but in Soap's head they somehow still weren't. He tried to imagine how the name would feel on his tongue, how it would sound spoken with his voice. If it was hard for him, Soap could only imagine how it must be for Ghost himself. How long didn't he hear his own name? Must have been ages. He tried counting the years they had worked together but didn't know if he should also count in the years that Ghost was in the Task Force before Soap had joined.

After not being able to rest with his mind circling around his Lieutenant, he reopened his eyes, looking down at himself. His bare arms suddenly felt exposed compared to the braw man, who was wearing his jacket as always. He had seen his body before but since getting only a short glimpse of his handsome face, it just fed fuel to the flames. He needed to see it again. More of it. Watch his expressions, how his face moved when he smiled or frowned. Not only his eyes but also his lips, his cheeks, the folds that would form. But that wouldn't be nearly enough. He wanted it all. His pecs and defined back, his veins, his tattoo sleeve, his scarred skin, his hands. While it had been controllable before, he couldn't stop himself now, playing with the sleeve of Ghost's jacket and the trim of his gloves. He let a finger slip between the two fabrics and under it, always having an eye on the others so they wouldn't notice - especially Price and Gaz. He was feeling risky. It just added another layer of excitement. Ghost moved a tad next to him. A wee bit uneasiness was readable in his uncomfortable posture, forcing his eyes to look at the plain aircraft walls but not pulling away yet.

Soap continued tracing the soft skin of his wrist and the edge of his palm, holdin' back from letting his hand slide further into Ghost's- Simon's hand. His heart fluttered, blood rushin' in his ears like no danger or mission ever could, almost drowning out the sound of the engines. Ghost must have noticed what his reckless display of affection was turning into and firmly closed his hand into a fist, which made Soap purse his lips. Still continuing, he hooked his finger into the sleeve instead, carefully pulling it up until he could see a wee piece of the black ink. It was expected when Ghost pulled away his arm entirely then, coughing as if to cover up what was happening between them. To be completely honest it would've surprised Soap more if he didn't and just let him do it without objection.

Satisfied he set up a cheeky smile, relaxing in the uncomfortable seat.

***

When they reached Chicago not even 24 hours later, they infiled the building Hassan was supposed to hide in. Just like they had planned. Gaz and the Marine were infiltrading from the ground, coming from the river. Price, Soap and more Marines were coming with helos, while Ghost kept overwatch from another building. They were supposed to meet in the middle, secure the missile and if necessary neutralise Hassan.

They were slowly gettin' there but then things spiraled out o' control when that absolute maniac fired the fuckin' missile.

Just in time they met up with Gaz. The only thing that was now separating them from Hassan and the missile control was the locked door. The goddamn rigged door. They were set up. Soon after Soap found himself separated from Gaz and Price. He was on his own now but at least he got his hands on the case with the control panel.

Soap's forehead was sweating. They were running out of time! It took all the help he could get from Laswell to eventually take the missile out before worse things could happen. This was not what he was talking about when he called himself a demolition expert!

Hassan's people were still everywhere though, threatening to kill him. Just one false move and he would be out of it. And eventually he did make one. Shots fired through the air, coming from close proximity. They were much louder than the rest, making his ears ring. And not even a fraction of a second later he could feel the sharp pain in his entire body. His sight went black by the shock. And when it came back he saw him.

'Hassan!'

He stood above him. Soap was barely able to scoot back on the ground. Hell, Hassan could have easily killed him right then and there. It was pure luck that he had run out of ammo. Instead he got hit with the weapon and everything went black for a second time.

When Soap regained consciousness again, Hassan was pulling him into another room and rambling something. He didn't listen to it. Every single cell of Soap's body ached with the thought of not being able to keep his promise to Ghost. Desperately he reached out to him. He wasn't sure what to expect but somehow he hoped for a relieving joke or flirty banter, ensuring him that everything was under his control. It was horrifying when instead Ghost only called his name, his voice drowning with worry.

Hassan pulled him from the ground and forced him to stand up. His legs and back were hurting like shit. And then in the blink of and eye blood splattered from Hassan's skull. He dropped dead and Soap found himself on his knees. Relieved he let out a sigh.

Soap: "Good shot, Lt."

Ghost: "You called it, Sergeant."

***

The same night 141 got back together in a bar. Soap still hurt like hell. One of the shots Hassan fired at him had made it past the vest. It didn't bleed as much as it would have, had it been serious. Perhaps it should've concerned him more nevertheless, but he always had a habit of playing down his injuries. He didn't want to concern anyone. And when he had his drink he could simply say good bye for today and call a taxi to the nearest hospital. They would stitch him up and let him go. He would be fine. 

Price: "Any sign of Shepherd?"

Price turned to Laswell. The name made him listen up. The woman shook her head.

Laswell: "Totally off the grid."

Price: "Well, we'll find him."

Laswell: "No, we've got bigger fish... I've done some digging on the Russians.

Price: "Well that's a dirty job."

Laswell: "Ultra-nationalists ambushed that convoy, John."

Price: "Kate this is over."

With more emphasis she turned her body to face them all.

Laswell: "No... it's not. They're working with someone new.

Price: "Who?"

Laswell pulled out a picture and slid it over. It was Makarov. That prick was back again... Soap picked up his glass with the intention of taking a big gulp but as he felt his muscles workin', he quietly let out a groan.

Ghost: "You solid, soldier?"

Of course Ghost sounded concerned. He had seen Soap's fight with Hassan. Price joined in with a "What's wrong?". It was his job to keep them save after all.

Laswell: "I'll get an ambulance ready."

Laswell already pulled out her phone, dialing the number.

Soap: "Just let me finish this drink. It's nothing vital."

Before he could finally take a sip, Gaz took away the glass. And when Soap lifted his aching arm to get it back, Ghost pushed up the clothes over his back.

Soap: "Oi, none o' that!"

The Lieutenant paused.

Gaz: "How does it look?"

Ghost: "Shot went flat through side and back."

Price: "Good grief! Get your stupid ass into hospital, Soap!"

Soap pouted. It didn't happen often that Price got so upset over him.

Laswell: "Ambulance is almost there. You're lucky they were on standby because of the mission."

Soap: "Am sorry."

He turned to look at Simon and he swore his eyes could throw daggers.

Ghost: "Hope ye fuckin' are."

Chapter Text

Song recommendation:

After Dark - Mr.Kitty

POV Soap

After Soap finally got out of hospital he went back to Scotland. His mother and sister had visit him a few times since then, bringing food and eating together. Recovery had been a pain in the arse nevertheless. He didn't really leave his flat much and thus shortly after they've visited him the last time, it already looked terribly lived-in again. Like someone had broken in and rummaged trough his stuff to find something valuable that didn't exist.

He spent his time off mostly anticipating someone who never arrived. And as weeks went by and the pain got better, he started wondering if Ghost would still come to visit. If he would stick to his words. Initially Ghost had put him off, blaming it on Gaz who had almost caught them but Johnny couldn't help but think that his Lieutenant didn't want to see him after all. He had tried it with patience but no text or call ever came through, no sign of him seeking contact.

And so he sat down at the kitchen counter like every day, stabbing around in his dinner, shoving it around the plate. Head held in a propped up hand. Countin' the days until Ghost would eventually get time off, holdin' onto the hope of him coming to Scotland suddenly felt like a waste. A waste of time he spent endlessly waiting and a waste of emotions tumbling in his stomach like heavy rocks that refused to loose their sharp edges.

Maybe it was for the better if he didn't come. His mother wouldn't be very fond of hearing her son was being courted by a Brit. It had already been hard enough for his parents to accept that he liked men. A British one would certainly be an overdo. But he shouldn't fool himself - it had been the other way around from the very start. Though his mother would probably blissfully disregard that. After all her son would never be chasing after a Brit. Either way she would tell him to get him off his mind and Johnny would reluctantly agree.

Fraternisation was still illegal and he could get into serious trouble. If Ghost chose to, they could remain quiet on this matter and Johnny would be alright with not discussing it ever again. In that case he didn't even want to know how Ghost felt towards him. It opened the possibility of suppressed mutual desire, leaving them both frustrated with never fulfilled longing for each other. Or, if Ghost didn't want him, didn't like him back in the same way, Johnny could loose him not only as a lover but also as a friend. It was a can of worms that was supposed to be kept closed. Acting as if their encounter had just been an ill-considered one-time favour between friends seemed like the best option for Soap. They wouldn't snog behind the barracks, sneak into each other's rooms at night and they wouldn't share flirty banter ever again, no matter how much Johnny wanted it. But maybe it wouldn't even go that far. Yes, maybe Ghost might be open to actually talk about what they did, what they were to each other. And Soap was shit scared of that as well.

When he went to sleep alone for yet another night the flat was lonely and dreadfully silent, the bed cold. And as much as he felt like crying his tears out over his messy love life, it would be fucking pathetic. So he pushed them down instead. In an attempt to ease that weighted feeling on his chest he started to half-heartedly touch himself. First palming through the pants, then slipping under them and slowly stroking himself to half-hardness until, in place of tears, pre-come left wet drops on his hands. It was sad rather than pleasant and Johnny knew it was pitying. But he went with it either way. He imagined Ghost's hands on his body body, the radiating warmth coming from his large toned body behind him. The chest against his back, protectively guiding him towards his desired dream land where they could be more than just... whatever they were right now. He needed that bit of peace.

His phone lit up the dark bedroom when a message plopped up on the screen. Soap sighed. Since touching himself wasn't so exciting anyway, he pulled his hand free from his underwear, wiping it on the covers. Then he turned around to look at the phone with squinted eyes.

Si: There in 1 hour

Soap frowned in confusion, thinking the person might've gotten confused with their contacts. Another message came in while he looked at the chat.

Si: Sorry to have kept you waiting, Johnny

Now he recognised the contact with the recently changed name. Only one would ever call him Johnny besides his family.

'Ghost!'

Instantly and fully awake now, Soap pushed away the blanket. He never got dressed and cleaned the flat that fast in his entire life. Throwing the clutter somewhere it wouldn't bother him, shoving the worn clothes on the ground into the darkest corner of his closet, changing the old sheets and covers and washing the pile of dirty dishes. Hell he even wiped the dust from the unbroached shampoo bottles in the bathroom. They were standing there since last leave and he had long forgotten about them - until now.

When he finished cleaning he dropped back to bed.

'How late is it even?'

He looked at his locked phone screen. Almost 0100.

Ghost's nickname popped up in his notifications again.

Si: Hope ye awake

Si: Or I have to lockpick your door

Right Soap hadn't even replied until now. But now he finally had time to do so.

John: How did ye get ma address? Never even asked me

Si: I have my ways

Soap smirked.

John: Do I wanna ken?

Si: It's classified

John: Hm... Doesn't make it less sexy

Suddenly loud and impatient knocking on his door interrupted him before he could type another message. He jumped up from the bed and eagerly opened the door, almost slamming it against the wall. The man in the mask stood right before him.

Ghost: "You never called me sexy before."

***

They spend the night watching movies in Johnny's living room. It was the first time they actually saw each other outside of work so Soap didn't even mind that Ghost was still wearing his balaclava - the one from their last mission. Besides their greeting, their banter stayed on a friendly and non-flirty level. Even that was fine with Soap. Ghost came, that's all that mattered to him. They were comfortable around each other - enough so that Ghost started talking about the time before Soap had joined the 141. That, and about missions with Roach and how he felt weird being here in Scotland. That he didn't want any real connections since Roach's death.

From other people's stories Soap had already known that Roach was not only a Sergeant but also a friend to Ghost. He had always been somewhat jealous of him which was always kind of dolt, considering he was a dead man. But he didn't need to be anymore, as they now shared something that edged on more than just friendship. Whatever it was exactly.

It was the first time Ghost really opened up to him like that so he reckoned that if he was careful enough, he could maybe learn more about what had happened back then.

Soap: "May I ask you how Roach died?"

Ghost: "You can but don't expect an answer. I can't talk about it."

Soap: "Classified?"

Ghost: "No... Just can't talk about. Or think about it..."

Simon looked away and took a moment before choking out "I failed him.", trying to hide his shaky voice.

Ghost: "I don't want to relive that, Johnny."

He rubbed the back of his head, turning even further away from Johnny so that he couldn't see his eyes.

Ghost: "Give me a minute..."

Soap: "Take your time, Simon. You don't have to tell me. Not now o' ever. But if ye want want tae, I'm here."

He leaned his shoulder against him, hoping that it would comfort the other man. It took a while until he could feel Ghost relax again. Scenes of the movie played out that Johnny wasn't really paying attention to though. A thought was burning on his mind. He knew it was the worst possible timing but he just needed to get it off his chest.

Soap: "Ye know, sometimes I think back to the mission in Las Almas and how ye left me behind."

Ghost: "I'm sorry. Thought it would be the right thing to go ahead. Didn't want to leave you in the blind."

Johnny nodded. In the end it had been the right decision. But it wasn't what bothered him.

Soap: "Did ye mean it back then?"

Ghost: "What?"

Soap: "That ye thought I wouldn't live that long. Did ye want tae get yourself out first so ye dinnae have tae watch me die? Did ye no bother aboot me?"

Ghost watched him with eyes hard to read. Somewhat frozen but behind it pain and affection.

Ghost: "No. I didn't mean that. I wanted to be there for you. Leading you on was our best chance. I'm glad you made it out alive, Johnny."

It was not exactly what he asked for but it would suffice so he let it slip. Ghost had his own struggles so he tried it with reassurance instead.

Soap: "You gave me strength that night. Nothin' could've stopped me..."

Ghost: "Feeling invincible makes one light-headed. Keep that in mind."

Soap: "I'm good at my job. You don't have to worry about me. I don't die that easily."

The Brit frowned at that.

Ghost: "What about the Shadow, that I sniped, or Hassan?"

He was right. Soap hadn't thought about that, suppressing it successfully. He didn't even know if he would still be kickin' if Ghost hadn't have an eye on him. Always. He buckled in defeat. Somehow he needed to apologise for putting Ghost through this and also thank him for saving him.

Soap: Aye... I owe ye my life, L.t."

Ghost: "You don't owe me anything, Johnny."

Johnny leaned forward, trying to put as much weight as possible into his words, eyes filled with affection.

Soap: "I do. Let me show my gratitude properly."

Ghost: "What does that-"

Ghost couldn't end the sentence, seeing that the Scot slipped down on the floor, sitting between his legs, gliding his hands up and down Ghost's thighs.

Soap: "Isn't this what ye came here fur?"

Ghost swallowed noticeably and stammered his name. His husky voice sounded like angles singing in his ears. Or rather like the purring engine of a rover. Slowly he opened his trousers and pulled down the waistband. Simon was big despite still laying soft against the shaven skin.

Soap: "You smell nice. Did ye shower before gettin' here?"

Ghost "I did."

Soap: "I like it."

Ghost: "That's the idea."

Without further ado he kissed his stomach in appreciation, slowly working his way down to the soft skin on his hips until taking him in his mouth. As he licked and sucked he could feel how he was slowly getting hard, pushing against his tongue and the back of his throat.

Ghost: "Jesus Christ, Johnny! Is that how you always thank people for saving ya life?"

Soap hums dissatisfied and pulled off, pouting.

Soap: "Don't talk about Price now. This is just for you."

He worked him with his hands for a moment before taking him in again. Teasing his tip, flicking his tongue over it and sucking on it with wet sounds.

Ghost: "Price has saved your life? Have to thank him for that when I get back- Ngh..."

Soap releases him again. This time with a delicious pop.

'Multiple times...', he thought but he didn't brag about almost dying. Again. Perhaps Ghost's worries were justified once more.

POV Ghost

Soap: "Take off that mask."

Ghost: "Ya sure 'bout that?"

Soap: "Affirmative. You're stunnin'."

Ghost was baffled by the sudden compliment. It had been some time since Johnny had seen him without the mask and it had been much longer since anyone had called him anything other than horrifying - not counting in that Johnny had called him sexy since he wasn't sure how much of it was meant as a flirty joke.

Ghost: "Let's move this to the bed first."

Soap: "Ya fast, L.t."

Ghost: "I can also take you slow until you beg for it, if that's what you want."

Soap huffed but didn't answer as if he couldn't decide which he liked best. It was almost frightening that he knew exactly how to push his buttons.

With the balaclava now pushed up to Ghost's nose and entangled in a gentle kiss, Soap led them to his bedroom. The door closed behind them and Johnny pulled away for a moment.

Soap: "Now. Take it off."

Ghost: "You're different."

Soap: "I am? Thought I'm mi usual self."

Ghost: "You're more bossy."

Soap: "'Am always bossy."

He corrected the Brit, adding "And I juist really want this."

Soap fiddled with the edge of the balaclava, not pulling it off himself. It was cute how he always waited for permission. And Ghost knew he could trust him with it. He appreciated it so he granted him the wish of seeing his face, pulling off his mask and putting it on one of the side tables. Thankful for it, Johnny breathed little kisses on his lips and cheeks.

Soap: "You're still blonde."

He had to suppress a chuckle over the statement because of course he was still blonde.

Ghost: "Affirmative."

Soap: "What's ya real hair colour?"

Ghost: "This is my real hair, silly."

POV Soap

'Oh.'

Soap: "Thought ye dyed it."

Ghost: "Sometimes I dye it brown so I don't stand out so much."

Soap: "Don't. I really like it. I wid love tae look at it every day."

At that moment Soap saw Simon blush for the first time. The strong redness stood out clearly against his pale skin. It continued on his throat, making Soap wonder if it would continue further below his hoodie. He pulled it up roughly and Ghost gratefully complied. They both stripped off all their clothes before Soap pushed them down on the bed, straddling his hips. He looked down on him like Ghost usually did. Eyes filled with hunger and longing, before going in for a deeper kiss now. Ghost bit his lips just to prove he was still in charge, his tongue licking into his mouth. Feeling the soft and wet texture made Soap feral. Still wanting more he rocked against him, eliciting moans from the man under him, that were sweeter than he could've imagined Ghost being capable of.

Ghost: "Johnny, wait..."

He paused with wide eyes. Did he do something wrong? The worry squeezing his insides quickly faded away when Ghost just smiled softly. His hand reached up to his cheek and Johnny leaned into the contact.

Ghost: "I'm glad to know you. Never thought I would end up meeting someone like you, Johnny."

Blood rushed to Soap's cheeks.

Ghost: "I'll make sure to keep you."

Soap: "Keep me?"

Ghost didn't answer just yet, only looked at him with a lovestruck gaze, which made Soap's heart skip a beat. The palm left his cheeks and went for Johnny's hand instead, holding it tightly for a moment and then pressing it onto Simon's bare chest.

Ghost: "Here. I'll take you with me. You'll be there when I go back to base."

Soap understood, knew that this bonnie man, who he was working with for years now, was his alone. His toned chest, his strong yet pretty hands, his perfect lips, his dark expressive eyes surrounded by light lashes, his handsome face for only him to see... While Ghost made him crazy, Simon would surely make him cry. Oh how he loved that Brit.

Without needing to think about it, he continued grinding against him more eagerly than before, letting out small mewls. He was desperate, he needed him so badly.

A sudden pressure in his neck interrupted his erratic movements. Soap opened his eyes again, not even remembering he closed them. Ghost was pulling on his dog tags.

Chapter Text

Song recommendation:

I Wanna Be Yours - Arctic Monkeys (slowed & reverb)

POV Ghost

Ghost enjoyed Johnny falling apart above him. He got a hold of Soap's dog tags, that clattered as he moved. That he even wore them weeks and weeks into his leave... The Scot didn't even seem to notice, relentlessly rocking their clothed hard ons together. So he pulled on the metal chain to get his attention.

Ghost: "You rut anything coming your way like this?"

The silvery tags were fiddled around in his hands as he shot a teasing smirk up to the other man. Johnny had been topping for years and it showed. Ghost found his efforts rather amusing.

Soap: "Only do this with you."

He claimed, implying that for him they were exclusive. It filled him with a pleasant confidence.

Ghost: "Such a good boy. What would you like to do?"

Johnny blushed, not giving an answer.

'Suddenly not a man of words, eh?'

Ghost: "You like being ordered around, don't you Sergeant? Do you also like drills?"

He tugged at the dog tags a little more, pressuring him to give him an answer. Hesitantly Soap shook his head.

Soap: "They're not the same."

Ghost: "Enlighten me about the difference then."

Soap: "Intensity and reward, Sir."

Ghost: "Reward? So you're a greedy boy."

Simon couldn't hold back a warm chuckle, letting Soap freeze and stare down at him somehow dumbfounded.

'Right. He didn't see that before, did he?'

Ghost: "You'll get one, if you're good. But I'll make you work for it."

Soap: "Aye, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

As if trying to show just how thankful he was, he emphasisingly pushed against his hip again. His cheeks were still rosy. It looked scandalisingly beautiful on him. Ghost didn't want anything but him to be able to see his Sergeant like this. If it ever came to it he didn't want to be Ghost anymore.

Ghost: "Calling me 'Sir' again? I like that. Now kiss me already, will ye?"

Tugging on the dog tags a little gentler now, he dragged him into a filthy kiss. His tongue licked over Soap's lips, inviting him to do the same. The grinding had stopped completely now, both of them putting everything into their kiss, letting Soap moaning into it. Hands were running through Ghost's blonde hair, grabbing and pulling on it hastily and then caressing his body. Soap was everywhere. Everywhere except where Ghost needed him and it made him uncharacteristically impatient. But they both needed more, Ghost could feel it.

With a quick swift he rearranged their positions, with Soap now laying under him.

Ghost: "You wanted to be in charge but now you're not pushing through. What are ye waitin' for, soldier?"

Soap: "I'm sorry S-"

Ghost hushed him and laid a hand on his mouth, silencing him. Then it wandered lower to his throat, just lightly applying pressure to show him how keen he was with going further.

Ghost: "Are you waitin' for me to do something? Like pushing you down like this... Spreading your legs and ordering you around until I get what I want... And you're willing to give it to me like a good boy, right?"

Their faces were close and Ghost could feel the excited and hot huffs of air against his own skin. Johnny nodded and let out a struggling wince. The hand was still on his throat while the other now gently cupped his stubbled cheek. The Lieutenant gave him a quick kiss on his forehead, whispering to him.

Ghost: "You okay with this, Johnny? With my hands around your pretty neck?"

Another nod.

Ghost: "Look at you. Doing so well now. Just needed someone to put you in your place, huh?"

Soap: "'Am sorry for makin' ye wait."

His voice was strained under the pressure of his hand so Ghost let loose.

Ghost: "Have you done it yourself since?"

Soap: "A few times."

He admitted to which Ghost let out a hungry hum. The brown eyes dangerously flashing in interest.

Ghost: "How was it?"

Soap: "Could never be as good as with you, Sir."

A satisfied smile appeared around Simon's lips.

Ghost: "That's the right answer, darling. You don't have to anymore. I'll take care of you... From now on."

POV Soap

It felt like another promise, assuring him that whatever they shared wouldn't end after this leave. And Soap hoped it would last a lifetime. This was commitment. And it felt great, letting his insides tingle and turn.

Soap: "Let me try it again."

Ghost: "Try what again?"

The Brit had this dark expression. As if he would want to swallow him whole.

'Fuck. Was this how he always looked at me from under the mask?'

Soap: "Fuckin' miself on yer big cock."

He stammered with a heavy dialect and Ghost growled at his words. This had nothing of the engine purr from before. It sounded pure animalistic.

Ghost: "Any time you want, baby."

***

This time it didn't take long for Johnny to get prepared at all. And it was good that way because he wanted Simon in this instant! Pain forgotten 'n' thrown oot the window. All he needed was his precious flesh inside o' him.

He's been sittin' backward on his lap, showing Ghost how much he could already take in, lowering himself all the way down until their hips were flush against each other. He stayed there for a while, trying to rock and press it impossibly further, makin' Ghost twitch inside of him.

Ghost: "Fuck, Johnny!"

Soap: "Ah! Aye..."

Ghost: "You're such a wicked little thing... You've been makin' me think and dream of ye for weeks on end now... My mask on your face during our last mission... Could've taken you right then and there."

Soap groaned again at the admission. It made him imagine Ghost alone in his quarters, touching himself, trying to ease that yearning. Waiting to finally see him again to keep his part of the promise. It must have been as torturous as for himself. Price should've let him go earlier.

Ghost: "This is way better than imagining it."

Soap: "Is it, L.t.?"

Soap's voice was weakly shaking while he moved up and down on on top of Simon, giving him a look from above the shoulder. He loved the praise.

Ghost: "Yes, you're takin' me so well, Johnny. Nice and slow."

Soap: "Don't I deserve a little more fur bein' good?"

For that he received a rewarding thrust upward, hitting exactly the right spot.

Soap: "Aye! like this, Simon!"

Ghost: "Bloody hell! I'll give you everything you need, darlin'. Just ask for it."

Soap: "Then help me oot! Please, Si! Help me!"

Strong arms flung around him, pulling his legs up and pressing his back against Ghost's broad chest, forcing him to lean back. The different angle made him slide even deeper, hitting his prostate again. It had Soap almost scream in pleasure. Thank God that they weren't around the base.

Ghost: "I love how my name sounds on your lips. Beg for me a little more!"

Soap: "Simon, please fuck me! 'Ah need ye so much. Take me 'til I'm yours!"

When Ghost bucked up his hip, Soap's head defeatedly fell back onto his shoulder. He continued thrusting inside again and again and all Soap could do was begging for more.

Soap: "Yes! Harder, Si! You fuck me up so good."

Ghost: "Christ. You really are like a rutting dog. Bet you'd also wag your tail every time you see me."

Ghost seemed to be amused by having a pup eager to please him, listening to his orders instead of throwing fits like Soap sometimes did. Soap however wasn't as pleased. He still had a say in this.

Soap: "Don't tell me you just imagined that! I forbid it!"

Ghost: "I think you forgot who's in charge here."

Soap: "What do I look like to you, a fuckin' animal?"

Soap grunts, followed by Ghost punishingly stopping with a last harsh thrust, that had him cry out his name another time. The only sound filling the air now was both of them panting fast and heavy.

Soap: "Fuck please don't stop. I'm so close."

Ghost: "What was that, Sergeant?"

Soap: "Please, Sir. I'm sorry. Don't do this to me. I'll be good. Let me come!"

With mumbled curses on his lips, Ghost picked up the pace from before. It only took a few more sloppy pushes until Soap came all over himself. The white liquid landed in pretty trails on his chest and face and his cock kept twitching afterwards, while the last beads ran down his length.

Ghost: "Fuck, Johnny. Do you know how sexy you are?"

Ghost didn't stop after the Scot on top of him came, continuing to pound into him. And Soap let him use him, going limp and whimpering willingly. Only a few moments later and with Soap still clenching around him in aftershocks and overstimulation, Ghost shared his own load, While riding out his own orgasm he repeatedly pushed it inside him like a gift to be kept. It caused an obscenely wet squelching sound when he eventually pulled out and let Soap sink back into his lap. His ass and legs were wet from leaking, ruining the fresh sheets under them.

A pale hand reached for his face, swiping off the cum that had landed there before.

Ghost: "Perfect shot, Sergeant."

Soap: "Oh fuck you, Ghost."

Soap still let out exhausted pants while chuckling weakly. His head rolled to the side so he could get a look at his lover.

Soap: "Ya pure dead brilliant."

Ghost: "Ready for another round then?"

Soap: "Hell no, 'am done in."

He closed his eyes, savoring the moment. On his stomach he could feel how Simon played with the mess he made, smearing it around and into his body hair.

Ghost: "Ya such a mess. Sticky and sweet like honey. You're not a spy luring me into your trap, are ye?"

Soap: "If I am, then I don't know aboot it."

Ghost: "Hm... Then I guess I'll have to make sure you won't get up to mischief."

Bites pierced into his shoulder and neck, leaving traces on him for everyone to see - not that anyone actually would here in Scotland. It made Soap melt into the sensation, never to forget how it felt.

Ghost: "You're mine."

Soap: "I love you, Simon."

Ghost's body tensed under him as a reaction to his sudden and forward confession. Fear creeped in that he had said it too early.

Ghost: "What about Ghost? He's brutal and intimidating. You've seen me kill people."

Soap: "Ye act as if ye havnae seen me kill people as well. Does that change anythin' for you?"

He didn't wait for an answer and turned around to look at the man he just confessed to after years of longing.

Soap: "I have always known that Simon was somewhere underneath that mask. Ghost or Simon I don't care. I'd choose you with or without it."

He went for the chain around his neck and instead hung it around Simon's. His dog tags looked good on him.

Soap: "Keep them. I want you to wear 'em."

Ghost: "What about you?"

Soap: "Guess I'll have tae git yers now."

Ghost: "Ya evil brat."

As a response Ghost bit him another time, while Soap laughed, pushing him off of him.

Ghost: "What if they mistake us for each other?"

Soap: "Better don't die then."

***

They slipped into the shower together. The feelin' of hot water on them and Ghost lathering him with foam was nice. He had brought his own shower gel from base. Johnny recognised it immediately. The Brit whispered quiet praises, barely audible under the sound of pattering water, while soothingly rubbing the nice smelling gel into his body hair on his arms and his chest, until it completely engulfed Soap. He just let it happen and hummed happily.

Soap: "Si..."

Ghost: "Does that feel good?"

Soap: "Aye."

Ghost: "It better does. We gotta clean you up after sullying yourself all over."

His hand slid down lower, running over his abs, playing with the hair trailing further below while spreading the foam, caressing his now soft cock with a single gentle stroke. Then he moved to his back, carefully moving his hands over his ass, sliding between the cheeks ever so slightly, brushing over his sore entrance with a single finger as if to apologise for having treated him so roughly before. It made his legs shake.

Ghost: "You gonna smell like me, Johnny."

Soap: "You like that, eh?"

Ghost: "What?"

Soap: "Being possessive, you filthy animal."

Ghost: "I hope you like it because I won't change it."

Soap: "I do. Keep goin'."

***

It took them a few days of ruining each other's sleep by continuously making-out and more, until they finally sorted things out. Found out what the other liked and disliked. What they needed after a rougher round. They trusted each other. Still they decided to keep their relationship secret for as long as possible - just to be safe. It would be hard holding back on base but they would try.

And eventually another week passed and Soap needed to get back to work. He tossed his spare keys to the taller man. Throwin' on a jacket and his shoes. Generally getting ready to hop on the train.

Soap: "Stay frosty without me, Ghost."

Ghost: "You sure about me staying here for another week? I might rob you. Your tv is quite nice."

Soap: "Hate to break this to you but ye already robbed me, pal."

He roughly patted on his chest. Didn't need to say anything more for Simon to understand.

Soap: "Haste ye back, ma love."

Ghost: "English, MacTavish."

Johnny laughed before throwing another one at him.

Soap: "Auld lang syne."

Ghost: "Johnny, please."

Soap: "I said 'good old times' and that you should return soon. Duty would be lonely without ye kickin' ma steamin' ass durin' training."

They kissed each other goodbye - the last one for a long time until their next time off. - Or maybe not. Maybe they could get away with at least secretly makin' out. That's what Soap hoped for. Nevertheless he made sure to put his entire heart into the kiss.

POV Ghost

And just like that Simon was left standing in Johnny's apartment. A hand holding the keys, the other around the dog tags.

For whatever reason and despite all the things he has done - life was finally good to him.

He smiled.