Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ghost could handle a lot of things. Years in the military had hardened him and nothing surprised him anymore. Staring down barrels of guns, wrestling enemies into submission and even boring meetings; these were all part of the regular work week. Even those rare moments when missions went askew. He would prepare himself for nearly every outcome. If things went well, good and if not well there was a probability of it anyway.  None of these, however, could prepare him for accidentally walking in on his Sergeant getting one off in the shower. The first time was a genuine accident but the second time the Lieutenant knew it was going to become an issue.

The ensuite in his room had decided to kick the bucket the week before and of course good ol' military timing meant it wasn't getting fixed for a while. He went to shower at his usual 1AM, a perfect time since it meant it was empty and devoid of the rowdiness and stares. A light humidity clung in the air, accompanied by the faint patter of water on porcelain, telling him someone had beaten him to it. Irritated, he figured his presence alone would scare them out, it usually did. His muscles ached and he needed time to think. As he approached, the steam became denser, obscuring his view of the culprit. He glanced to the bench as a glint caught his eye. A closer inspection revealed tags sitting atop a pile of clothes reading: John Mactavish. No sooner had he read them he heard a faint groan. Concerned (not that he’d ever admit it), he walked towards the Scot, figuring he must have injured himself after their last mission. Right when he’s about to call out, Soap moans. Now, it may have been some time since Simon saw any action but he could still certainly tell the difference between pain and pleasure. As if he had been struck dumb, he stands there for a second unsure of what to do. Suddenly, he can hear everything else: the light slapping of skin, the sharp inhales and breathy exhales. A rush of adrenaline poured from the top of his head and settled into a warmth in between his legs. Thankfully they moved on their own. By the time he processes what the fuck is going on he’s already back in his room, painfully erect and unsure of what to do with the damp spot that was forming on his boxers. If he dealt with it now, it would be admitting that he had found the whole scene erotic and had some kind of attraction to Soap. These were feelings he was not ready to even admit existed for exploration. If he didn’t deal with it, it meant he would be pent up and frustrated which was no good for anyone else on base. Naturally, he decided to tuck in for the night.
The next day was hell just as predicted. He’d snap a little more harshly and glared a little more intensely. Everyone noticed but no one dared to say a thing. Except for Soap. Ghost hadn’t calculated what his reaction would be upon seeing the man.
“Whatsamatter Lt? you’re not your usual chipper self”
Ghost just stares at him.
“Ah yeah makes perfect sense” the Scot teases a moment later after receiving no response.
Ghost slowly side eyes the Sergeant, silent still but forgets that Soap operates on a single brain cell. He’s standing there grinning that stupid lopsided grin. His eyes trail down to that chiseled jawline sloping perfectly into that muscular neck with those dense broad shoulders and holy shit he was fucking checking out Soap. A creeping heat spread across his cheeks up to the tip of his ears and goddamn if he wasn’t grateful for the balaclava.

Ghost lets out a deep sigh, this way going to be a long fucking day. He steals glances of the man every now and then but is determined to stay focused. Training the recruits is secretly a task he enjoys doing solely because it’s one of the only times he gets to be with Soap side by side. No bullets, enemies or other threats of death. Just Johnny. He also admires the way he takes them all under his wing, clarifying any questions and hardly ever giving them hell. Not Ghost. He was absolutely there to be the boogeyman and whip the maggots into shape. Especially when he noticed a newbie’s gaze lingering on Soap a little too long. He could admit, objectively, that Johnny was handsome. Nearly every time someone stepped foot on base for the first time and caught a glimpse of the man they were desperate to know more. It’d be even worse when they’d find out just how sociable he was, the outgoing bastard. Hed never admit it but maybe there was a time or five when he had to inadvertently let someone know to fuck off. Either pulling him into a meeting or just staring at them until they got the hint.

When he had enough of kicking the fresh batch of recruits’ asses he headed to his office. There was a pile of paperwork he was thankful for, for once. It meant focusing on something other than the way Soap’s muscles would flex under that taut tan skin, enticing and reminding him. He began to work through the pile of folders methodically. A mix of briefings, intel and random sign offs, the usual work. He had gotten into a good flow when there was a knock at the door.
“Lt? You in there?”
He contemplated answering but knowing Soap he wouldn’t rest until he searched the whole damn base for him.
“Come in Johnny”
Soap entered and stood waiting for permission to sit.
“Sit”
“Yes sir” he answered smugly. He knew Ghost was in a mood but man if he couldn’t help pushing a button or two. Ghost did his best not to react to the response even if it did start a warmth in his lower abdomen.
“What you need? M’busy at the moment buried under this so it’ll have to be quick”
“Yeah? Paperwork that riveting huh?”
He gave him a deadpan stare in response.
“That’s why I’m here, somethings off with ye. Swear you wanted those boys to meet their maker”
“I’ll be sure to send along a satisfaction survey”
“Cmon you know what I mean, what’s gettin at ye?
He could hide from others but not from Soap. Yet another aspect he admired about him. Everyone else treated him, well, like a Ghost, an invisible boogeyman. They would speak in hushed tones or become mute, even avoiding looking in his direction. Soap was different. He’d try to rope him into conversations, would banter back and forth. Hell, he’d even gotten comfortable playfully touching Ghost. The first time he’d done it, anyone in the vicinity to witness it was ready to take cover. It was something to get used to but now it was just another part of their routine. Soap saw more than the Ghost, he saw Simon.
“Just… rough night’s sleep is all”
“That’s a shite excuse try a better one”
“Mind your language Soap”
“We’re really worried about language now?”
He wasn’t gonna let this go. Of course not, it’s fucking Soap. What the fuck was he supposed to say here? That he heard him pleasuring himself and it set off a chain of questions? He let out a sigh and closed his eyes briefly.

“S’fine Lt just worried about ye is all”. He stood up and gave a quick nod but before turning to leave he dropped two small packets on his desk. Soap knew Ghost better than anyone, if he didn’t want to discuss it then the matter was done. He’d eventually find out one way or another but best to not provoke him.
Ghost watched the Scotsman’s back retreat in stunned silence. He expected some back and forth but appreciated that Johnny knew when and where not to push it. Glancing down at the two packets on his desk he realized it was tea and not just that garbage in the mess hall. It was decent quality. The packet was made of a thick white paper, embossed with an intricate gold foil. Realizing the gesture, Ghost was instantly flooded with guilt. Here he was moody as shit, horny for his subordinate and the man was going out of his way to be considerate of him. Because Johnny always considered Ghost. Now he felt even worse. The self loathing that usually lurked in the back of his mind was suddenly snapping its jaws making its presence known and settling its claws into his chest. The paperwork wouldn’t help anymore so he called it a night. He popped open the bottom right drawer and reached into the back beneath the binders to retrieve a pack of cigarettes. He wasn’t one for smoking but kept an emergency stash.
It was fairly late and he knew most would be getting ready to turn in so he was safe to smoke behind one of the side buildings without prying eyes. Whenever he lifted the mask, even slightly he could feel the swarm of looks. Eyes desperate to make out his face, lingering on the many scars. The cigarette was stale but would do the job. He inhaled and exhaled watching the smoke swirl, each tendril carrying him into another train of thought. This was why he preferred to be alone. Feelings paired with others was fucking messy. Too messy for his taste. He’d always wind up hurting someone and was shit at the whole comforting thing which would just lead to angry tears and him being alone again. There were incredibly rare nights, when he was sure he was alone that he would briefly speculate the idea of him and Soap. Not this night or ever again he told himself, that was for fucking sure done. As he sucked down the remainder of the cigarette he could overhear the murmur of a conversation that was slowly approaching him. Not wanting to interact in any way he concealed himself in the building’s shadows.

“If the rest of training looks anything like today I think I’ll fucking die”
“Yeah it was pretty awful but at least there was something to stare at”
“Mask guy?!”
“No you dumbass I could hardly look at him I was fucking terrified. I meant Mohawk dude”
“Oh fuck yeah, he’s hot as fuck did you see the way he demonstrated that submission? I was so jealous of the guy under him”

Yes, Ghost had seen that submission and had to wrestle his prided self control. It was sheer will power that got him through that without getting hard or caving the recruit’s skull in.

“Yeah maybe tomorrow we can ask again and get lucky enough to be part of the demo”

Ghost was right, feelings were messy. Now jealousy was blooming and it wanted to be friends with his self hate. He flicked the finished butt and stamped it out. He really needed that fucking shower to clear his mind.

This time it was business as usual. Everyone had turned in for the night and the showers were all his. Hot water cascaded down his pale marred skin, easing some of the tension in his tired muscles. The steam was thick every time he inhaled but it comforted him. He stared down at the drain watching the water and suds slowly swirling down. Despite his best efforts his mind wandered back to Soap and he could feel his cock start to fill. Leaning his forehead against the cool tiles he took another deep breath, in an attempt to maintain composure. When that didn’t work he opted to punch the wall, willing himself to be in control. He would not think of Soap that way, not when the man genuinely tried to comfort him. It was a moment he got caught in and nothing more. He was starting to prune, so he got out and felt mildly better. He hadn’t touched himself and would not sully the relationship between him and his sergeant.
Once back in his room he proceeded with his routine. Boots lined up to the side of the bed, next day’s uniform already set out on the desk and double checking weapon placements. He was Ghost after all and wouldn’t be without a weapon in any space he’d decided to fall asleep in. Last order of business was placing his zippo lighter next to the nightstand lamp. Only he couldn’t find the fucking thing. He patted down the pants he’d worn earlier but found nothing. Searched the floors of his room, nothing. By no means was he sentimental but it was a good lighter and he’d hate to twist someone’s arm later for having it in their possession. Retracing his steps he figured it probably fell out while he was undressing in the shower. With his mind concentrated on finding the damn thing he didn’t even consider that someone would be showering at this time but they were much to his annoyance. Figuring it’d be best to slip in and out, he made his way over to the bench he undressed at. He managed to find the lighter only because it was sitting on top of a crumpled shirt. This was what he wanted to avoid but now he’d have to make it clear to whoever, that we don’t touch things that don’t belong to us. He stalked over to the sound of running water ready to scare the shit out of them when the familiar slapping and moaning was heard. Fuuuck. And it sounded even more lewd than last time. Twice now. Twice he had caught Soap jerking off and twice he’d gotten hard. Each pant, moan and slap went straight to his dick pulsing in unison. Rather than run away he stayed put, listening to the symphony of pleasure.
“Mm…ah-fuck” the thick Scottish accent cursed quietly. Ghost’s cock strained against the fabric of his sweatpants begging to be freed but he refused. He would not fuck this up. Johnny was a good man and his closest thing to a friend. He was not going to fuck this up like everything else in his life.
“S-Simon” a breathy barely audible whisper snapped Ghost to attention. It was steaming but a cold chill ran over him. Wide eyed he searched to see if it was too late and Soap had caught him. Fearing this to be the end of their partnership, he frantically searched for a pair of accusing eyes, voice caught in his throat without an excuse as to what the fuck he was doing there. The continued moans indicated otherwise because Soap repeated the name and quickened his pace. The panicked fluttering in his chest was soon replaced by an unbearable heat. It pulsed spreading up from his cock deep into his abdomen, thick with primal need. Johnny was masturbating…to him? Unable to resist further he pushed himself against the lockers and pulled his angry swollen cock out, already leaking with precum. Grabbing a nice fistful he proceeded to stroke up and down, listening intently attempting to match his pace with Soap’s. It didn’t take long before they were in sync. This was fucked up but carnal desires overtook his shame. Every grunt and pant threatened to send him over the edge but a thought popped into his head and he couldn’t shake it. What did Soap look like when he was deep in the throes of pleasure? No. He’d resist this was fucked up enough. The thought repeated itself until it had him trying to map a position that would offer optimal vision with maximum coverage. It was a skill he’d utilized often and pretty soon he could see Soap’s muscular outline. He might have been shorter than the Lieutenant but every inch was dense with muscle. The definition of his back angling into a tight waist that slightly flared out to match an equally muscular ass had Ghost shuddering. He angled himself a little better and got the view he wanted. Soap’s eyes were closed and his face slacked in pure bliss. The occasional knit of his eyebrows and swipe of the tongue across his bottom lip drove Ghost insane. He was bloody gorgeous. The scene before him was so erotic but it was only going to get better. He watched as Soap leaned forward resting his forehead on the wall, never stopping his pace while placing his fingers in his mouth. He removed the slickened digits and reached around to slowly slide them in. An audible hiss followed by a groan as he now continued working himself both in front and back. Ghost was losing his fucking mind. He was fighting for control to not bend the man over and take him right there. What made it worse was Soap moaning out his fucking name. Ghost knew it wasn’t going to be long, not like this. He stroked himself faster, imagining it was him bottoming out into Johnny. Imagining how fucking tight and wet he’d be. An increase in moans meant Soap was close and Ghost was too.
“Fuck Simon…ah…mmf” Soap groaned picking up the pace before spilling over, nearly collapsing against the wall.Choking back and swallowing his own groans of pleasure Ghost finished right with him, taking deep gulps of breath to maintain his composure. His body twitched but this was no time to bask in the afterglow. He quickly and quietly made his exit, shame hot on his heels.

That night Ghost really didn’t sleep. The clock on his bed ticked away and he watched the room slowly fill with hazy gray light. The only thing keeping him planted was his guilt that turned his stomach into knots. He was disgusted with himself. Whenever he felt the rare urge he had no issue finding a partner and carrying on. But this? This was way out of line. It was also out of his character and unbecoming. Here was a soldier who placed his fucking trust in him, had taken bullets for him and he invaded his privacy like he was another mark, solely for his own pleasure. Each tick of the clock hammered in his disgust until he couldn’t take it anymore and smashed the wretched thing against the wall. It shattered instantly and for a second he felt sorry for the person who shared the wall with him. They’d never mention it and would probably be even more terrified of him.

Today, Soap would take point for the training since Ghost had meetings to attend. He was grateful for that at least because there was no way he could face him today. It’d be obvious something was up and that was just a road he couldn’t go down right now.
First meeting went off without an issue and he had some time before the next one so he opted to hit the bag a bit. It always helped clear his mind. The gym was mostly empty and would further clear out once he made his way in. The dull thuds echoed and he laid into the bag. Quick left, duck, followed by a straight right he bobbed and weaved against his imaginary opponent. He was starting to relax, keeping his demons at bay. It felt good and allowed him to finally think without the intense disgust and guilt. Soap had been moaning his name. What the fuck was up with that? Ghost refused to believe it was him, maybe just the thought of who he was. Or worse, a different Simon. The idea sparked that bloom of jealousy which quickly burned up his throat and had him hearing his heartbeat in his eardrums. He punched harder this time, the chains holding up the bag rattling louder and the bag bouncing around as if it weighed nothing. If it was another Simon wasn’t that a good thing? It meant it wasn’t him and meant he could kill that small light feeling in his chest whenever he started to think of the Scot. The thoughts slowly started to pile up. He thought himself a vile opportunist who did in fact spy on his subordinate. The kind of fucking asshole they hated. The dread was becoming all too consuming.
“Ghost?”
His voice rang out like a bullet, breaking him from his thoughts. He snapped his head in the direction and saw Soap approaching. The look of concern made his heart sink, had he actually caught him? Fuck. Fuck! He stilled the bag and inhaled slowly, willing his heart rate to go down.
“Tea that bad huh?”
The joke put him at ease a bit and earned Soap a snort.
“Nah saving it for a bad day”
“Ah and so this is…a good day?”
“Great, even” he retorted
Soap quirked a brow at him before chuckling. Simon really was a fucking mystery. He just happened to be walking by when he heard the whispers about a certain man in a balaclava beating the shit out of a punching bag like it owed him money. The only person on base who’d wear one whilst working out was obvious to him, so he went to investigate. Last night he was pretty closed off so he didn’t push it. Now, he looked even worse. The dark circles under his eyes paired with the redness in his whites made him look miserable. He was still handsome to Soap but he’d never admit that out loud.

“Well seeing as you’re in such a good mood I figured you could help me demonstrate some submission holds?”

Submission holds. Body contact. Definitely not a good idea in this current climate. Then the conversation he overheard the night before popped back in his head. Fucking recruits.
It was the slightest shift in his mood but Soap could tell this bothered the broody bastard. The way his eyes turned down ever so slightly at the corners and the light flex of the fabric around his jaw was a dead giveaway. What the fuck was up with him seriously. He peered closely and Ghost shifted his gaze with a familiar knit between the brows. Was he fucking avoiding him? The thought suddenly occurred to the sergeant weighing heavily in his gut. Had he done something? Ghost never shied away from scolding the sergeant or letting him know when he was fucking up. Or had the offense been so great that it warranted this response. Anxiety started to creep up along his spine, slithering into his ear whispering the words Ghost doesn’t fucking like you. It wrapped itself around his throat rendering him speechless.

The silence stretched out longer than Ghost had intended but Soap was close enough that he could smell his body wash and it was stirring something in him.
“Can’t today, another time” he replied curtly. A glance at the clock on the wall let him know if he didn’t leave soon he’d be late. He walked off leaving the younger man behind alone, suffocating in dreaded thoughts.

This meeting was the fucking pits. Complaints from clients about minute insignificant details for missions they were clueless about. He’d been paying attention but also let his mind wander to Johnny. He looked…different when he left him there. A question clung in the air waiting for a response and he realized it was directed at him. All eyes on him but a look at Price was all he needed. A generic response tailored for the suits and they were happy. After they filed out Price asked him to hang back.
“Hearing chatter Simon, don’t normally care but it's made its way here and I have to know, is this going to continue to be a problem, whatever it is?”
“Negative sir, I’ve got it under control”
Price looked him over and gave him a nod for dismissal. He wasn’t about to get involved in personal matters. Ghost kept things close and if he said it was handled, he believed him.
“While you’re at it get rest you look like shit”
Ghost just grunted in response.

He was human after all, the way his stomach was twisting itself reminding him to go check what slop they were serving up. The smells wafting out of the hall were not promising but then again they never were. He remembered the tea Soap had left him and felt some comfort in that. He’d have a cup, settle in for the night and talk it over with him tomorrow. The menu read “Salisbury steak with mashed potatoes” but the visual was actually a gray slab of mystery meat swimming in a thin oily sauce. The potatoes were hardly mashed and dried out. He opted for the bread rolls and “chicken” noodle soup instead, lest he catch his death trying to eat whatever the fuck that other thing was. Then he remembered the pile of paperwork he’d left and decided to finish some up while he ate. Expecting to hear the door click behind him, a boot wedged itself in, catching his attention. The poor sod better be ready to do push-ups even after his fucking arms fell off.
“Lt, sorry but I really need to talk to ye” the familiar Scottish accent blurted out.
Ok, so no push ups.
“Pretty serious stuff you bargin’ in here like that”
Soap chewed his lip unsure of how to proceed or phrase this.
“Yeah well-“ and for once he was at a loss for words. Incredibly rare times that Soap Mactavish was quiet, Ghost could count on both hands. Taking in his appearance, he took note of his raw bottom lip and the hard stare he was burning into the floor.

“Johnny, what’s on your mind?” he asked in a gruff but slightly softer tone.
“Si-..I..I think” he stuttered out, turning shades of red.
Remaining silent, he quirked a brow in response, giving the younger man space to collect his thoughts.
“I think it’ll be best if Gaz and I take point with this new batch” he had snapped his head up and stared Ghost straight in the eye. It was a struggle to get it out but he respected the man too much to not give him that.
Well, that was certainly not on the list of guesses but rather than feed the flames of curiosity, he stamped it out before it could spread and cause him any further grief.
“Mm…makes sense to me, have things that need tending to anyway. If that’s all Sergeant then you’re dismissed”
It may have been the dying ember of curiosity but Simon swore he saw a glint of…sadness? No, he’d stop reading into it and everything else he had deluded himself with. A curt nod was the response he received before Soap turned on his heel and headed straight out. He turned back to his paperwork, willing his mind to focus on the meaningless letters and numbers and not at all on the man on the other side of the door who, unbeknownst to him, was on the verge of tears.

 

Chapter Text

 What had he done? Where did he slip up? He was careful, so fucking careful in all of his movements. For the first time ever in his life, John Mactavish actually thought his actions through. He had analyzed and planned for the best outcome but this was not fucking it. He knew when to push Ghost and when to pull back, studied every small movement and interpreted its meanings. Cataloged his mission outcomes and how it correlated to his mood. He could even tell what kind of day it would be depending on which fucking tea the man would drink. So where did he get it wrong? Soap replayed the last week’s worth of conversations but couldn’t find where he had slipped up. He thought maybe he was just tired and that the stress of meetings and training the newbies was starting to wear on him, so he suggested taking point with Gaz. He was ready to argue with him, have some banter and eventually get to the bottom of whatever was bothering him. But Simon didn’t even bat a fucking eye. No quips, not even a second thought, he was fine? You annoy him, he never liked you, only tolerated you . Soap started to spiral. 

 

  He  was running himself in circles, trying to pinpoint the exact moment of maximum fuck up whilst maintaining well, everything else. It was obvious to everyone but himself. Gaz had attempted to check in a few times but he reassured him with a grin and joke. Price took more of a hands off approach by not approaching at all, much to Gaz’s annoyance. The only one with solid advice was Laswell. She happened to drop in and during a meeting took note of the distance between the two. Normally, they’d be seated together somewhere in the back with Soap cracking jokes and laughing at them while the silent brooder would sit there. Everyone who knew them had an idea but never spoke the thought into existence. When Ghost moved, Soap moved and vice versa, but the nature of their work made relationships nearly impossible. Laswell considered herself lucky every day. During the meeting they would steal glances whilst the other wasn’t looking making it hard for her to pay attention. They were so fucking obvious but so fucking dense. A nudge in any direction at this point was what they needed rather than this tense awkwardness that threatened to suffocate anyone in a room with them. After the meeting she beelined towards Ghost, exchanged a few hushed words before the both of them set off. Soap definitely noticed but had no means of an excuse to place himself near them.

He decided to go for a walk, clear his mind and put some distance between himself and the urge to drop by Ghost’s office.  

 

Meanwhile, back in said office Ghost was fighting his own urges, like walking out of this impromptu meeting right now. Laswell approached him under the guise of some new fucking program but instead was giving him an earful of shit he did not need right now.

 

“Usually, it’s you two at the hip but something is off and that shit is gonna bite you in the ass out in the field”

“Dunno what you’re on about, the Sergeant and I operate just fine”

“Ghost.”

He opts this time not to respond, beneath the balaclava he’s fuming and as much as he feels Laswell is overstepping, that small part of him can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. 

He hears a drop in her tone and her eyes soften with concern.

“Ghost, just…if something happens and you leave things like this, would you be able to live with that?”

“Hrm.”

“Think about it at least ok? 

He watches her back retreat, leaving him shrouded in silence with nothing but her words reverberating in his head. 

 

Soap is pretty sure he was walking with the intention of staying away but he somehow finds himself standing by a door, trying to make out the muffled sounds. Straining, he tilts his head forward just enough to hear a clear “Think about it at least, ok?” then the sound of footsteps coming towards him. Shit. Damn near tripping on his feet, he manages to scramble away far enough so that when the door opens and Laswell spots him, it looks like he just so happened to run into her. Smile at the ready with a funny little quip on the tongue, she sees right through it and before he can even squeak out a sound she loops her arm in his spinning him around.

“Walk with me”

“Err..missed you too Las-”

“Cut the shit kid, what’s going on between you and Ghost?”

Soap is so obvious the way he’s crestfallen at the mention of his superior officer but he recovers quickly. 

“Me and Lt? Ahh same as always y’know, why'd ya ask?”

Laswell takes a note from Ghost and deadpans the Sergeant.

The familiar slither of anxiety in his stomach starts to creep up, whispering from beneath 

He doesn’t like you.

You annoy him.

You’re a fr-

“It’s nothing, really Las, just been busy and leave’s comin’ up so been thinkin’ of that”

“You two are so stubborn. I’ll tell you just like I told him, if something happens and things are left this way it’ll haunt you”

Johnny stopped short, nearly toppling Laswell as he realized the implications of her words. Would Ghost even care? After their conversation in his office he seemed so unphased and unbothered by his absence. The man might’ve been a hard ass but Soap knew he had a soft spot for him, or some variation of softness but now he wasn’t so sure. Laswell snapped her fingers in front of him trying to catch his attention.

“This is exactly what I’m talking about. Talk to him” and with that she untangled her arm from his and gave him a sympathetic look. He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, worried she might see more than a man having a fight with his best mate. Could he even qualify this as a fight? His mind started to run the same laps they had these past 2 weeks.

Soap analyzing every agonizing detail just trying to figure out what happened. He was normally so confident, some even dare say overly but he knew what he brought to the table. Except with Ghost. Everyone wanted something that Johnny could offer but he could never figure out what that was with him. It was…nice. Not having to feel the burden of performance for once. Until he’d developed feelings for the man. He sighed deeply, doubled over and rubbed the palms of his hands into his eyes. Laswell was right, they would need to speak eventually lest they risk their dynamic. His stomach growled indicating the pity party was over and the thought of grabbing a bite didn’t sound too bad of an idea. 

 

Yeah, too bad of an idea because just as he’s rounding the corner for the mess hall he barrels into a solid mass. 

“Ye fuckin’-watch where yer go-”

“Soap, just the man I need”

Gingerly pressing his fingers into the curves of his nose to ensure nothing was broken, he grouchily looked up and saw Price’s face looking down at him.

“Cap, sorry didnae-”

Price held up a hand to cut him off before he continued.

“Never mind that, need you to come with me now son” he spoke over his shoulder as he continued his way, prompting Soap to follow. Betraying his stomach he reluctantly obeyed and followed Price. They set upon a familiar meeting room and a quick scan showed it was just him, Price and..fucking Ghost. The universe clearly was not a fan he thought to himself.

 

Ghost got to the room before anyone else and opted for the furthest wall, opposite the entrance. Price said it was important that he drop whatever he was doing and come soon as possible. Probably the fuckin’ penguins he thought to himself recalling the suits he met with a few weeks ago crying about some fucking deadline without a care for the actual work it took for a covert operation. If he was surprised he sure as shit didn’t show it when Price showed up with Johnny in tow. He should have figured honestly, who better than the two of them. Their track record was solid and not like many were up to the task of working with him. He caught Soap’s eyes for the briefest second before the younger man averted his gaze quickly. Figures, they hadn’t spoken for nearly 2 weeks which was not unusual for them but given how they left things it made it all unclear for Ghost. Johnny had suddenly barged into his room and suggested that he and Gaz take over for the recruits. Something they had always done together but Ghost got the signal loud and clear. He had made the Sergeant uncomfortable and even if he didn’t voice exactly what it was that he had done, Ghost figured he found out. Not like he could hide his 6’4 figure in the showers easily, he should’ve known better. Shame flared up once more and he cursed himself for only wearing the paper mask, knowing that the flush of red against his pale skin would be obvious. Whatever, better to get on with it. If this was the punishment he would have to endure, so be it.

 

“Alright boys, this one should be simple enough. Basic retrieval, client wants minimal damage”

“Why us then?” Soap questions and Ghost’s grip on his own thigh tightens in tandem with his heart. 

“Statistics son, you two as a team have the best outcomes and client is requesting only the best”

Johnny offers no reply and leans back into the chair, playing with a frayed edge on his pants.

Price continues with the details despite the thick tension in the air but takes note of the occasional wandering side eye from both men. They’ll figure it out, he thought to himself, no need for meddling.

Wheels up at 0300 but Ghost arrived early for his usual pre-flight check. Everything was in order except for the last box that needed to be checked off: Johnny. It was an unspoken routine he and the sergeant had developed because the bastard just needed that beauty sleep. Ghost would do his pre-flight check and Johnny would always say he’d done it the night before. It made him uneasy and he was torn between doing the check or just leaving it be. Fuck it the man was already upset with him, what was a little more? He didn’t want to risk failure or worse.

He began the inspection of the second bag when that familiar Scottish lilt broke the silence.

“Already done Lt, did it-”

“The night before”

They stayed silent after that but the interaction caused the faintest smile on both their lips. Some of the unease had dissipated enough for the lieutenant to shut his eyes before landing. He wasn’t asleep and could feel Johnny watching him. Any other time he’d say something but he was grateful for any attention from the man at this point. 

 

They dropped down into humid, dense greenery. The kind with snarling vines and thorns threatening to drag you down if you weren’t mindful. Soap was learning the hard way, tumbling every step or so, muttering to himself as they made their way. A thorn scratched his cheek causing him to hiss in annoyance. Ghost didn’t quite laugh but the puff of breath had Soap snapping his head back to glare at him. 

“Something funny Lt?”

Ghost’s amused half lidded eyes offered the only response and Soap pressed forward a little more irritated. He didn’t get far before he felt his boot sink into some mud with a hidden root that launched him forward face first. The string of curses he had lined up was stuffed back as a hand gloved in leather clamped over his mouth and he felt the solid outline of Ghost beside him. As if that wasn’t enough, he felt the warm air dance around the shell of his ear sending a shiver down his spine as the man whispered.

“Quiet Johnny, up ahead” and Soap could see him motion of the corner of his eye but couldn’t exactly make out what it was due to the thick brush. Soap lost his bearings as soon as he got them once he realized the position. Ghost was half on top of him, hand still around his mouth and breathing into his fucking ear. The wiring in his brain short circuited because for some fucking reason the closer the proximity to danger, the more it thrilled him and Soap was really in the shit. He could feel the rapid fluttering of his heart and prayed Ghost couldn’t feel it too. Thankfully, he pulled his hand away and shimmied himself off but the motion was dizzying for the man beneath him. Ok, they weren’t talking and shit was fucked up between them but he still had very real desires. Inhaling deeply to steady himself, he adjusted in the thick muck as quietly as possible, trying to gain a better line of sight.  He was about to push himself up to at least prop on his elbows when he felt that damned hand press him back down. Oh, he was gonna chew his ass out for sure, weird circumstances be damned. Right when he shot a dirty look his way, he heard the sounds of squelching footsteps on the approach and the familiar shifting of metal. Wide eyed, he watched Ghost signal the plan to him, immediately recognizing the hand movements. As he waited for the green light he couldn’t help but feel soothed by the familiarity in all of this. Death looming for them as they worked in tandem to casually side step its grasp once more. Just like old times. No time for reminiscing, Ghost gave the signal and together they took the mark down; Johnny sweeping the legs with Ghost at the top gliding a knife smoothly across the neck. It could honestly be categorized as sex the way they worked sometimes. While Ghost patted him down Johnny got a quick lay of the land.

“Two more on perimeter, none in house”

“Simple enough, take your pick”

“Ah like a proper gentleman”

A low chuckle followed by a “fuck off” had them both feeling hopeful. Maybe things would be ok. 

 

Soap is convinced the universe has it out for him. How could he not when he botched a simple take down he could do in his fucking sleep. Once again the muck threw off his balance launching him straight into the guard and what was supposed to be quick and easy was now very fucking difficult. He managed to wrestle the guy down using the submission hold he demonstrated countless times this month but the fucker was just fast enough that he managed to shank a goddamn fish knife right into his side. The pain was blinding but he paid it back with the very same knife right through the heart. As the man choked out his last breath, Soap staggered off to the side, holding the wound that was now profusely leaking blood into his shirt and pants. Not long after he felt a weight beside him and his arm being lifted around something sturdy. Ghost. 

“You’re alright, I’ve got you”

“You picked the one on the left on purpose” he jokingly grimaced

“Remember I let you pick, being a gentleman and all”

“”Aye ye did!” he groaned as Ghost kicked in the door to the small hut that was being guarded, causing a shift and a crack of pain through his side. He dropped him down against a lone desk to do a quick scan of the building before returning to the sergeant’s side. The adrenaline was starting to ebb away and in its wake was agony. Making quick work of the shirt, Ghost cut through to get a full assessment and felt his breath stutter. The wound was small but the blood gushed out in torrents. Quickly, he placed a hand over the wound and applied pressure trying to suppress the bleeding, his other hand fishing around his vest for the clotting gauze. 

“N-not even gonna b-buy me dinner Lt? J-just-straight to it y-yeah?” he was shaking now, the shock starting to set in.

“Guess, I’m not the gentleman you thought I was”

Soap wanted to respond but could only huff out a grunt as he trembled, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to still himself.

 

The man was steel on the surface but beneath anxiety, fear and regret bubbled away. Ghost wanted to apologize to the man, confess all his bloody fucking sins and beg for his forgiveness but right now he located the gauze and was going to have to put Johnny through something fucking horrendous. 

 

“Johnny, look at me. Take a deep fucking breath, you know what’s coming”

Soap weakly nods, having been next to Ghost during the medical training. In fact, they were exactly like this in the scenario and he found himself drifting to the memory.

 

Medical Training

 

“This again?! It cannae have been that  long! We just got certified!” Soap grumbled along with a slew of curses in his native tongue.

“Mactavish, what have I told you about that racket?”

“Sorry sir, what it means is-”

“Go fuck yourself” Ghost replies at the same time as him, ending the man’s sentence much to his shock.

“Holy shite! Might make a proper Scotsman out of you yet Lt!” he beamed with pride.

“Fuck no” he snorted under the mask and shades. Soap gave a playful punch as the speaker for the session cleared their throat to start the program. 

 

“Today we’ll be demonstrating techniques necessary not only for your survival but that of your teammates as well. You could be the difference between someone making it home alive or in a casket”

 

“Steamin Jesus, bet she’s a thrill at all the parties” Soap whispers. Ghost’s eyes crinkle and the way the mask contorts, Soap can tell he’s smiling just slightly. The speaker drones on and Soap is just about to fucking doze when a small box gets tossed onto the desk he and Ghost are sharing. The woman providing the training casts her eyes down in disapproval but just as quickly averts her gaze. 

 

“Wha the fuck was that about?” Soap asks, turning to the lieutenant when he catches the man giving the woman a death glare that would have pleased the devil himself. 

“Ah, you really know the way to my heart Lt.” he sniffed, touching the left side of his own chest.

“Wouldn’t have to if you knew how to stay awake” Ghost kicked his shin in response causing the other man to yelp out in surprise. All other eyes remained forward, not a soul dared to even glance back at the two. 

 

“Now then, let’s practice proper use of the items before you. One of you decide who will be wounded and who will be the medic”

 

Soap opens his mouth to proclaim his role but finds himself tits over ass staring up at the ceiling with the wind knocked out of him. Coming into his view is none other than Ghost the smug bastard with those amused pools of amber looking down on him.

 

“Looks like you’re wounded. I’m here to assist.” Soap can’t help the blush that spreads across his entire fucking face as he tries to stutter out some indignant response. They go through the items and their uses one by one and leave the combat gauze for last.

 

“Don’t need to demonstrate this, pretty straightforward” Ghost says to Soap but Soap wants to press his luck just a bit today.

“Dunno Lt, think I’m bleeding out pretty bad” he starts to choke out dramatically, hamming up the sounds causing people to start turning their heads. It’s enough to drop Ghost down to a knee to stare daggers at him. Proximity to danger , Soap likes and pushes further so he grabs the ankle of the man, making more sounds.

“Cheeky fucker, let’s have at it then” he cooly replies before pinching Soap’s flank hard. Like really fucking hard. Like it started to feel a little too fucking real. Suddenly, he feels himself pulled through a vortex landing him straight back to the hut and with it the fucking pain. Somebody is yelling and thrashing him around but it's several seconds before he realizes it's all his own doing. Ghost is on top of him now, squeezing his legs between his own like a fucking vice as he holds the rest of his weight down on top of wound. He can tell the gauze is in by the foreign fullness and the excruciating pain. It makes him scream, curse and beg Ghost to stop, tears running down his face unashamed of how he appeared right now. He claws and punches at the man on top of him, unaware that the face plate and mask have been ripped off unveiling thick jagged lines of long since healed scars. The face they belong to twisted in grief, lips quivering and those beautiful eyes now shook with a red madness. As if he wasn’t even seeing Johnny anymore and looking beyond him. What were they even fighting about? Was he really about to kick the fucking bucket without ever letting the man know how he felt? The countless nights he laid awake wishing things had gone differently for them? Praying that in every other universe maybe they had a chance? The pain in his side was still pronounced but dulled to an intense throb. The shaking subsided, now a constant tremor as if he’d been submerged in ice. The cold was deep in his bones, the kind he knew you wouldn’t come back from. 

“S-Simon..” he croaked out hoarsely trying to get through to the man but he didn’t hear him. His eyes were fixated beyond him, still red and clouded. Proximity to danger, especially while nearing death so he claps both sides of his lieutenant’s face in an attempt to snap him out of it. It works and he can see Simon coming back and seeing him.

“H-hey..where’d you g-go?”

Silence.

“I’m b-bout to-“

“ Don’t you fucking dare Johnny. I swear to God”

“Y-you d-don’t even b-believe-“

“Stop it Johnny.” He barely whispers punched out from the grief that’s strangling him. 

“S-Simon. I-I’ve been…I’ve been” he struggles to get the words out, tongue heavy and sluggish as his body shunts the blood away in an attempt to save itself. 

“Tell me later sergeant, they’re coming now just fucking hold on…please” he nearly fucking sobs, the years of pent up frustrations and longing cracking the dam that held them in. 

“Fuck..off..y-ya ba-bastard…tryna tell ye…I’m…I’m in love with you”. 

Silence again and he only knows he isn’t dead yet because of the dull throbbing. The lids of his eyes are so heavy but he can’t be bothered with them now. He’d rather not face the reaction and lets himself slowly drift away to sleep. He could feel Ghost jostling him, his voice becoming distant but death had finally managed to catch John Mactavish.

Chapter Text

Death wasn’t comforting but he didn’t think it would be this uncomfortable. What the fuck was down his throat and why the hell did it feel like he’d been stabbed in his side? Wait. He forced his eyes open a crack and was blinded by fluorescent white lights. Groggily, he lurched his head to one side trying to focus his vision but all he could make out was blurry shapes. His breathing felt… off. Like, it wasn’t him breathing. That jolted him awake, causing him to bolt up, vision sharp and loud as he was greeted to a mess of tubes and lines everywhere. Suddenly, he was very aware of the tube down his throat and felt his anxiety spike as he reflexively moved his arms to pull it out but they wouldn’t budge no matter how hard he pulled. Searching for the source he glanced down and saw he’d been restrained. Seeing the straps made his blood boil and he started to thrash and fight against the tethers. Machines started to frantically beep and a couple of lines were yanked out before he started to feel one of the knots loosen. A door crashes open and a horde of medical staff rushes through. They’re on him in seconds, arms pressing down on his limbs in an attempt to stop him but Soap is high on fear and adrenaline. They’re shouting at each other, while packages are ripped open and medication drawn into syringes. He just manages to wriggle a wrist out, one of the nurses tries to wrestle it back but he’s too powerful and grabs a hold of the cursed tubing. Right when he’s ready to yank it out a voice cracks through the room like thunder.
“JOHN! STOP!”
It’s a voice he could recognize based on the vibrations alone.He turns to the source and those amber eyes melt all the anger, anxiety and fight out of him. Simon. He only feels the prick in his eyes for a second before he’s flooded with tears, sobbing uncontrollably. The man is by his side instantly, attempting to soothe him.
“Enough Johnny, it’s-I’m..” and he clams up, not sure of how exactly to do this. He puts a hand on his shoulder and gives a firm squeeze. It’s enough for Soap who slowly starts to relax, slowing down the rapid beeping from the ventilator that’s fighting to regulate his breath. The staff files out of the room once Ghost assures them he won’t be a risk. The last nurse informs him that a specialist will come by to evaluate Johnny and start to wean him off the machine. He thanks her and she shuts the door to give them privacy.

Now that the madness died down, Soap has so many questions. He patiently waits for Ghost to pull up a seat next to him before he makes the motion to ask but realizes…he can’t. A silence stretches between them only broken by a muted puff of air from the machine. This fucking sucks. Ghost is searching his eyes and sees the questions and confusion before he remembers the item Price had dropped off. He pulls out a small dry erase board and marker and gently places it in his lap. Soap is stunned, head snapping up to look at Simon, his blue eyes starting to brim with tears.
“Oi..don’t you fuckin’ start” he taps the board “tell me…ask me…anything” he ends softly. He sits beside him waiting patiently for him to scribble a question. The penmanship is horrible given he's been out a few days but Ghost makes it out.
Back to medic training
Honestly, this man was going to be the death of him. Him and that single fucking braincell.
“No satisfaction surveys for you”
He gets a smile and a huff of air that triggers the machine, causing the sergeant to roll his eyes. He scribbles again:
How bad is it?
The question sinks Ghost’s heart as he recalls the mayhem that landed them there. How he thought he lost him in the hut, how the medivac managed to find a pulse and how it turned out that the knife nicked a lung causing it to collapse. They had to stabilize him and place a chest tube mid air. The whole time he’s talking he shifts his gaze between his hands and Johnny’s eyes, taking his time to let him absorb it all. Soap just listens, nodding occasionally before he leans back into the pillows. He writes out:
Thank you, Simon.

Ghost reads the sentiment and hangs his head shaking it slightly. It confuses Soap so he grabs his wrist and shakes him as if to question why. He’s met with a sorrowful gaze that takes him aback. In all the years he’s known Ghost, he never had this look. Not even when his cat died and he knew how much Simon loved the little beast. He looks like he’s searching for the words when there’s a knock.
“Hello? Good morning Mr. Mactavish, welcome back to the land of the living!” the doctor greets in an almost sing-song tone as he damn near waltzes into the room with a small team behind him. Soap can do nothing but hold up a hand in greeting. Ghost starts to rise, wanting to respect Johnny’s privacy but he grips his wrist so tight it almost makes him wince. When he looks down he sees Johnny’s piercing blues commanding him to stay.

“I’m Dr. Owens, the surgeon who patched up your lung and this is Harvey, your speech language pathologist. While I check you out, Harvey here is gonna take a look at the muscles you use to swallow so we can get an idea of when we can get you off that machine, ok?”
Soap can only nod, unsure of what any of that entailed. He follows their commands for deep breaths as various instruments touch his skin.
“Wow Mr. Mactavish I have to say, you’ve got minimal weakness here I’m quite surprised you’ve got some really strong muscles in this area” Harvey notes as he lightly pressed his fingers around Soap’s throat. Soap gives a sly side eye to Ghost and wiggles his eyebrows, earning him an eye roll.
“I say we can have you off in a week, max!” the doctor remarks exuberantly. That is not what Soap wants to hear. A week? He wanted this fucker out now. A fucking week with this thing? How the fuck was he supposed to eat? He was far from hungry but dammit a week! Sensing his frustration, Ghost speaks up.

“A week is a bit long for him, afraid he’ll explode. Is there a chance for something sooner?
“Ya know, I think we can work something out. Let’s see how well he does these next few days!”
The doctor heads out but Harvey lingers behind a bit to explain the process a bit more. Soap listens to him intently giving a nod every now and then. Ghost isn’t lost on the man’s proximity to Soap, or how comfortable he is with touching his neck and jaw. He cracks a joke that has him setting off the machine and Ghost vexes his neck in slight irritation. Harvey excuses himself and promises that he’ll drop in to check on him. So once again, it’s just the two of them in the room.

“Figures it takes you nearly dying to get you to quiet down”
Soap grins in response and starts to scribble away
Who said I was going to be quiet?
Simon cocks a brow but gets his answer as Soap sets the fucking machine off. Of course he’d figure something like this out.
Earlier…?
Ghost internally groans, hoping he’d drop or forget the reaction from before. He played with seams on his gloves, trying to gather himself before speaking.
“You shouldn’t thank me Johnny. I…” he trails off trying to find the words. It wasn’t that he hated to express himself but always found he was shite at it.
Words would get misconstrued and leave him worse off than if he’d said anything at all. Johnny waited patiently for him to get the words out.
“This whole mess, it’s because of me. If I hadn’t..fuck” he hunches over and pinches the bridge between his eyes. What the fuck was he supposed to say right now? The entire truth? Johnny was fucking intubated and limited in his ability to react, to scream and call him a disgusting bastard and order him away. He clenched his jaw so tightly he could feel his temples throb from the headache it induced.
“I’ll tell you once they take the tube out, i-it’s better that way for you” his voice cracks while looking at the stunned man seated in the bed before him. He can’t stare at him too long and avoids his eyes, feeling the shame and anxiety slowly ripping into him. Soap snaps his fingers repeatedly and angrily? Interesting how Ghost could tell the difference. He looked back and Soap motions to the machine, his mouth and his whole body. He points his index finger down at the bed, indicating he meant NOW. Wanting nothing more than to confess his sins he held steadfast in his resolve.
“No, Johnny. When it’s out..I promise”
The machine puffs out a couple of breaths before there’s the sound of sheets being rustled. Johnny is sitting upright again and turns his body towards him, reaching a hand out and clasping a shoulder. He doesn’t get it but for Simon and after everything they’ve gone through, he’s willing to try and understand.

The next few days pass relatively quickly, given how eager Johnny is to prove he’s ready to be extubated. In between the scans, physical therapy and meds Ghost is with him the entire time. At one point a nurse comes to tell him visiting hours were over but seeing the intensity in which he watched over Soap’s sleeping form, she decides against it and brings him a blanket and pillow. The only time he does leave is to eat so he can be considerate of the fact that the other man can’t eat anything, having to get all his nutrients via IV. Ghost even manages to swipe different colored dry erase markers because he likes the way his eyes light up every time he brings a new one. Each one belongs to a different emotion and it helps both of them interpret what the other one is feeling. When words fail him, Ghost will even take the board and write it out, finding it a little easier. They spend the hours like this, Johnny writing and Ghost responding. It’s the most he’s ever heard his voice Soap realizes, outside of comms. It’s nice but he catches himself hanging on to every word, making mental notes of which words make his accent come out a little thicker. He has to control the occasional blush that threatens to break out, wanting to protect this little peace between them. It doesn’t help that the drugs they’re giving him make him feel extra laid back, at times having to catch himself when he’s writing something a little too out there. He has to keep the reins of his self control extra tight when he remembers a certain confession but can’t for the life of him recall if it was real or a dream at death’s door.

The rest of the 141 drops in bearing gifts and Get Well Soon cards. Price pulls Ghost aside to discuss a few matters and it makes Soap anxious. He knows Ghost’s presence here with him is hindering plans back at the base but he wants to be selfish and remain in this little bubble for a while longer. When they have a moment, Price approaches the sergeant and Soap can feel the dread climbing. Price must sense this because he takes a seat on the hospital bed next to him and lays a reassuring hand on his arm.

“Don’t worry son, I’m not calling him away”
The relief is instantaneous but so is the embarrassment. A quick flush on his face has him turning away. Price smirks, knowing fully well how Soap feels about the man. Never spoke a word because he frankly hates to get involved, but with everything that's transpired he figures a nudge or two won’t hurt.

“Just focus on getting better, we’ll be waiting for the both of you”

The last part makes Soap tilt his head in question, but Price only gives a wink and pops in his cigar as he walks off. On the way out he sees Ghost headed back and figures this one needs a goddamn shove if they’re going to get anywhere.

“Simon, one more thing before I go”
“Sir?”
Price takes a deep breath before Simon interrupts him.

“ I’ll take whatever they hand down as punishment, but I’m not leaving him”

It catches him off guard for a moment before he chuckles and nods his head giving him a few claps on the shoulder before walking off. They’d be alright. Ghost hears a nurse scold the captain in the distance for the cigar and he collapses against a wall. He was ready to fight with him, to use every single favor he’d built up over the years. When he re-enters the room he can see Johnny is asleep, probably tired from all the excitement in the last few hours so he approaches silently and sits waiting. He’s relieved to be able to sit here with him but knows that he doesn’t deserve any of this. Not Johnny’s happiness about his presence nor Price’s grace. He’s cherishing borrowed time and knows that looming in the distance is a bomb that will set off, destroying all of it and him.

The day finally comes when they’ll attempt to remove the breathing tube and see how he tolerates the process. Soap is all nerves, fidgeting with his tube, his hair and everything within reach. Sensing his anxiety, Ghost decides now’s the time for a good joke.
“ What do you call an illegally parked frog?”
Soap ceases his finger tapping and cocks a brow at the lieutenant.
“Toad.”
His eyes squeeze shut and he shakes his head. Terrible, as always. It comforts him just in time as a small team arrives for the procedure.They walk him through it, even explaining it to Ghost at certain points. As they prepare various instruments and start to glove up, Soap’s hands are searching. A nurse who’d been with them from the beginning sees this and takes Ghost’s hand and places it in his, smiling at them both.

“Just give him a big squeeze hun, I’m sure he can take it” as she continues to prepare, either unaware or kind enough to ignore how bright red they both are. The black paper mask only acts as a stark contrast to the blush and Soap is in a daze just staring at him. The ogle fest is cut short as they begin to count him down, undoing the tape and getting into position. He was fucking nervous. Not for the process, he was over this shit since he woke up, but for what it would mean: him getting the answer Simon told him to wait for.

“On the count of three: one, two, three”

It comes out without issue and the next couple hours are crucial with the nurses checking him every fifteen minutes to ensure he’s breathing well enough on his own. They even instructed Ghost on what to look out for and to come running if anything was wrong. His throat feels incredibly hoarse and dry, he can barely whisper and the “water” they tell him to drink is thickened to make it easier for him to swallow. When he does try to broach the subject with Ghost, he stops him and tells him to wait a bit longer. When he stops him for a third time Soap decides that’s enough and snaps.

“I’ve been waiting for days, Simon. Not waiting any longer”
“Johnny-”
“Please, you and I both know it, we’ve been off. I don’t know what I did, just let me-”
“You didn’t do anything Johnny, it’s…me. I’m the one who messed it up”
Now Soap is confused and finds all his words jumbled, unsure of which ones to pick out before Ghost continues. He holds his head in his hands and stares at the floor.

“I-...I saw you…doing...something..”

OH FUCK.

The room starts to spin and Johnny feels the walls start to cave in on him. He could breathe a second ago but now he was fucking choking. The veins in his neck bulge and he’s turning red, leaving claw marks on his chest trying to wrestle some self control. Ghost sees the change and shoots up sending the chair clattering behind him as he turns on his heel to grab help but Soap manages to grab the hem of his jacket and yank him towards the bed.

“Johnny, let go! Have to get help!”
Soap wheezes out “N-not ch-choking…w-wait!”. It’s a scramble for control with Ghost wanting to fly out the door or press the call button, anything besides seeing Soap like this again, but he can hear him gasping, the redness fading to a light pink and his chest rising and falling. The tension in the room was palpable and Soap was trembling whilst still holding on to Ghost but his head hung so low, almost as if in prayer. Warm tears start to cascade on to the sheets and Johnny knows he’s done. The snake is back in his ear shouting Disgusting! Freak! Never liked you!.

“Sorry…Simon…I-I have no excuse-”

A force grabs his shoulders and sits him straight up to look Ghost in the eyes but he squeezes them shut in shame. He can’t face him right now and the regret swirls through him like a miasma, making him wish the tube never came out, fuck that he never even woke up. He finally got the answer.This was why he was avoiding him.

“Why the fuck would you be sorry Johnny?” The grip on his shoulders intensifies but he keeps his eyes closed praying that the man will break every bone in his body, anything for retribution.
“I..fucking..I spied on you, invaded your space”
That makes him snap his eyes open. He stares into those remorseful eyes and starts to understand.

“You..spied on me..?”
“Yes…I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me”
“You spied on me.”
“...Yes..sorry..I-”
“Why?”
“..?”
“Why’d ye spy on me Simon? And why didn’t you say anything, and why’d you stalk around on base avoiding me-”
“ I wasn’t-”
“Don’t lie Simon Riley, you were avoiding me like a whore on Palm Sunday”
“I was ashamed Johnny…I spied on you and got off-”
“YOU WHAT?!”
Ghost readied himself for whatever Soap would throw at him. He deserved it all but nothing happened. He expected punches and cursing, not Johnny sitting there slack jawed and getting redder by the minute. He held up a finger and opened his mouth to speak but nothing. Ghost gave him time to reboot, never having encountered the sergeant like this.
“You got off..on watching me?”
When he got a nod for a response, he flopped backwards into the bed, spreading his arms in disbelief before throwing them over his face. This was all very new territory for Ghost so he did what he usually does and stayed quiet. Beneath the arms a muffled question came out so low, Ghost had to ask for repetition.
“Did ye like it…?”
His face turns beet fucking red, prompting him to yank his hat all the way down.

“Answer me Riley”

It’s barely noticeable but he gives a single light nod and it has Johnny’s insides melting into lava right between his thighs. The fire burned so intensely and all he wanted to do was throw himself in, face first because that’s all he ever knew how to do.

“Ye should’ve just joined me”

Ghost’s eyes peek out from under the cap, wide and aware of what he just heard. He pulls the cap down again and turns away, giving Johnny a peek at that strong side profile now dusted with hues of scarlet all the way up to his ears.

“Didn’t know if you meant me…”

That rips a howl right out of Johnny who actually starts to choke from how hard he’s laughing. Visibly irritated and a little horny, Ghost frowns at him, arms crossed waiting for the punchline.

“Ye daffy! Who the hell else would it be!?”
Still very embarrassed, he shrugs.

“How much did ye see?”

Ghost cranes his neck away, not prepared at all for the third degree and definitely not wanting to admit to anything he saw.

“Out with it Lt”

He groaned, sending a shiver of electricity straight to both their dicks before hoarsely whispering.

“Everything, Johnny”

His heart was pounding wildly as his hands came up shakily to grasp the rail while he leaned forward in an attempt to taste the lips of the man he’d yearned for, for years. The moment was cut short as the door clattered open and a nurse nearly fell over, puffing for breath.

“You *gasp* ok *gasp* hun?!” followed by more gasping as she was doubled over.

Deer in headlights, neither one having a clue as to what she was talking about. She slapped a hand over her chest repeatedly.

“Heart…heart monitor, going nuts”

Soap sank so deep into the sheets, willing God to rapture him or Satan to swallow him up, whichever he did not care.

“Oh, this one? Sore loser.” Ghost replies flatly, holding up the dry erase board that had an old game of tic tac toe.

The nurse’s brows furrowed in confusion as she stared between the two of them, before Soap launched into a tirade

“Not a sore loser, the man’s a cheat! I won that game! I *know* I placed the X here and not there”

Horniness be damned, he knew Simon switched the spots he just had no proof. The nurse raised her head slightly, brows still stitched with uncertainty before warning them to keep the stakes low and not rile each other up. When she closed the door behind her, Soap could see the familiar flex beneath the mask telling him Ghost was smirking. Bastard. He tapped his index finger on the railing repeatedly, reminding his lieutenant he owed him a rematch and that the game didn’t count on account of him being on drugs. Simon shrugged him off and offered any time and any place. Once they settled back and were sure the nurse wouldn’t come bursting back in, they gaze at each other before turning away at the same time. Then Soap remembered that fuzzy memory. The one he wasn’t sure was real or not and figured he’d come this far. Why not?

“Simon… in the hut…” and he could hear Ghost’s breath hitch in his throat, the memory still fresh.

“I said something to you didn’t I?”

“Johnny…” it’s painful and guttural, Ghost remembers well and nods slowly.

“I know…that was a lot and I-I understand if you-” but he stops when he sees him writing on that dry erase board they had earlier. When he’s done he holds it up and it reads:

I love you too Johnny

Soap starts to sob uncontrollably, chest heaving with every gasp. He brings his knees up and buries his head, never feeling Simon sink the mattress next to him. Slowly, he’s tilted down, head resting against a solid warmth, feeling the faint thump just beneath. Those long fingers curl their way through his grown out mohawk just slightly closing around the silky strands. He can feel the rise and fall of Simon’s chest in time with the warm breath on his forehead. It smells like peppermint tea and Soap knows that’s only reserved for the roughest of days. It dawns on him that this whole ordeal has been hard on him too. That he’d pined for him just as much and toiled in the same shame over those feelings. He had avoided Simon as well and forced the man to endure. Johnny knew how much Ghost struggled with verbalizing any semblance of feelings, too wrapped up in his own turmoil, too lost in his own perceptions of pain to see he was doing the very same. Then having a confession whispered to him from the brink of death, thinking that he’d never get the chance to reveal his own. Fresh tears spilled over and he wrapped his arms around him, squeezing him tightly, willing their two bodies to become one to meld their pain together so that they never had to experience it alone ever again. The hand in his hair loosened their grip and made their way to his jaw, lifting his chin. His lips were pressed against the taste of peppermint with honey. Simon’s lips were soft, the kiss was incredibly gentle, as if afraid that further pressure would crush the man beneath him. Soap decides he needs more, it’s not enough and he deepens the kiss, tongue gently swiping asking for permission. When Simon parts his lips, he’s greedy and desperate to explore every groove, committing it all to memory. More and more, he reaches his hands up to caress his face and bring him closer. They finally break contact to breathe, taking gasping breaths but never letting the other go. This was it, Simon realized he was ruined. He’d never want another like this, hell he’d never wanted anyone like this ever. A fever spread through his veins and the only remedy was to be near this man at all times.

“Holy shite you’re a good kisser” Soap husks, drinking in every inch of his face now that the mask was not obscuring the view. Simon was a fucking vision. Those golden locks that came to a soft curl, thick nearly white lashes that framed eyes of amber with flecks of onyx. Johnny gently thumbs the scar that swipes across his top and bottom lip at an angle and places a gentle kiss on it. He can feel his lips pull up in a smirk.

“Mm..surprised?”

“Nah, knew ye were hiding that pretty mouth for a reason”

Ghost rolls his eyes and shoves his hand in face playfully pushing him away. Johnny just grabs it and intertwines their fingers before placing a soft gentle kiss on top. The rest of the night they stayed like this, falling asleep together and ensuring that at least some part of them was always touching.

Chapter Text

When they finally get the clearance for discharge Soap is antsy to get out. He wanted to settle into this, whatever this was, properly with Simon. Price cleared them both for leave and would handle the blowback. They settled on going to Manchester where Simon kept a flat, not that he was ever there, evidenced by minimal furnishings and a very empty fridge and cupboard.

“Wow, not even a box of tea” Soap whistled, not at all surprised. As far as he knew the man was not sentimental and the few glimpses of his private quarters were almost as if he had just moved in, despite being there for years.
“Mn, looks like I’ve got to grab a few things. Stay put I’ll be back”

“Fuck no, yer not leaving me here ye-”

“Doc says bedrest Johnny”

“I’ve already had enough bedrest in the hospital, wanna go out, see the sights”

Now that he brought it up, Ghost realized he had never really seen much of the tourist attractions around him. Too many years spent in survival mode to care.

“Sights? Fancy a tour of the supermarket then?”

He expected a smart ass reply or for the man to make a face but instead found him hunched over, quietly captivated by the lone piece of decor in the entire space. A framed picture of the biggest cat he’d ever seen with tawny fur and emerald eyes. Sitting just below the frame was a black collar with a skull shaped tag inscribed with the name Pumpkin. Ghost’s eyes softened just slightly at the sight.

“Is this him then? Big fella hell were ye feedin’ him?”
“Usual cup or two but then he’d help himself to a few more”
“How’s that?”
“He was real smart, knew how to open cupboards, unlock bins. Caused the sitter tons of grief but big as he was the bugger was agile and quiet. Only creature to ever sneak up on me”

Johnny listened intently and relished this rare glimpse into the other’s life outside of the military. Simon rarely spoke about anything personal, except with him and even then the moments were few and far between. He watched the way his eyes would lift at the corners whilst glancing back at the photo and telling stories. The cat had picked him, following him all the way home one night. He never wanted a pet but something compelled him to let him stay for a bit to escape the cold and dreary rain that clung over the city. The next day he had planned on taking him to a shelter but couldn’t find him. He continued the embarrassing story of how he had to ship out the next few days and hired a sitter.

“I looked like a madman asking this woman to look after a cat nowhere in sight”
“Shite and you were gone a while too”
“Yeah, but you know…soon as I stepped through that door he came running, yapping, crossing all between my legs. Nearly tripped me” Ghost chuckled softly.
“How’d you come up with the name?”

Ghost blinked at him. “He’s orange” he responded flatly. Johnny just squinted his eyes at him and then laughed. He didn’t know what to expect but it was certainly not that. After some back and forth Ghost relented and allowed Soap to come along.

Before, these menial tasks were just routine for him, much like his life in the military. Routine after routine. Predictable outcomes with minimal distractions. He liked it, it was safe and easy for him to understand, but he found that the more he got into these patterns the more he became out of step with others. Not that he was a social butterfly by any means but slowly, he could feel himself drifting and having no real thought of actually pulling himself back. It got to the point that he wasn’t even sure how to. It fucked up his relationships and eventually convinced him that maybe things were better this way. Alone, with predictable patterns and predictable outcomes. Until a certain demolition expert came in effectively blowing all that away. Now, here he was anxious about picking out decent groceries to ensure a healthy recovery, whilst plucking out the junk food Johnny was eagerly tossing in.

“What’s this taste like?” in his hands a colorful, cellophane wrap that held a form of biscuits.

“Dunno, not one for sweets”

“Hmmm…let’s try it” Johnny’s eyes delighted with wonder as he turned to place the package down but frowned when he realized his previous treasures had gone missing.

“Erm…where’s the rest of my snacks?”

“Doc says-”

“Simon. I’ve consumed nearly every edible liquid known to man since I was in that hospital. I’m having my snacks”
He could only sigh as he tried to explain the diet the nurses and doctors had coached him about. Eventually, they came to an agreement, Johnny could have a few snacks if he promised to pace himself throughout the stay. It was that smile and glint in his eyes that made him weak. Normally, he’d be steel in his decisions but something about the way Johnny looked when he was excited, got to him. The same look when he’d ready a particularly large demo, when they got new toys or even when he’d see Ghost after some time apart. Deciding he’d have to work on that he opted to let himself enjoy this for the time being.

The walk back was a myriad of questions and peeling the sergeant off shop windows as he “oohed and ahhed”. A typical overcast day with a few drops here and there that steadied into a light drizzle. Just a few blocks away and the skies cracked open to a downpour. They were thoroughly soaked by the time they reached the foyer of the building. Ghost wanted to be grumpy, the bags were falling apart and their contents threatened to spill over but Johnny was just there laughing. It eased the negativity away and he found one side of his lips pulling up into a small smile. Once they got in and ensured nothing was damaged, they dried off and Ghost set out to prepare dinner. He could cook, nothing fancy mind you but edible and sustainable. But the way Johnny would comment, you'd think it was a goddamn Michelin star meal.

“Since when’d you cook Lt!? This tastes incredible!”

“It’s just a puttanesca Johnny”

“It’s fancy to me! Saw you make the sauce and everything!”

“Well doc said to limit your salt and sugar intake but…” and his eyes wandered to the cabinet that held Johnny’s prized snacks.

“Ay now, leave them out of this”

Ghost could only roll his eyes in response but deep down he could feel the way his heart lightly fluttered at the man’s excitement and delight with his cooking. He made a mental note to try to make more things like this for him. He realized that Johnny was not privy to vegetables. All the times they’d eat together the closest thing he thinks he saw the man eat was potatoes.

“Where did you learn to make pu-ta-nes-ca” he sounded out.
“Tommy, actually”
“Oh..and where’d he learn it from?” Soap only trailed for a millisecond. He knew talks of family were off limits for Ghost. He never divulged much aside from the fact that he had an older brother named Tommy who was now dead along with the rest of his relatives.
“Restaurants, it was just him and I for a while so he worked in a lot of kitchens, once I got old enough this was the first dish he showed me”
That made Soap’s eyes want to water but he held it in, not wanting to take away from the moment. The weight of what Simon shared wasn’t lost on him. It made him want to savor every second and every memory. He dared a toast, unsure of how he’d take it but he felt good about the vibe they had going. Raising his glass and clearing his throat he spoke firmly “To Tommy and Pumpkin”. Ghost looked down momentarily, and lifted his glass to repeat the toast, smiling slightly as he sipped the drink in their honor. It all felt so foreign. Cooking for someone you cared for, bantering over the meal and a toast of all things. Christ, it was like all those commercials he’d seen growing up.

Since he cooked, Soap insisted on cleaning the dishes. He was happy to lean back and watch what the other’s version of “cleaning” was, having seen the constant state of disarray he called a room. Water sloshed everywhere, even the way he did the dishes was chaotic, Ghost internally groaned. “See Lt, you just sit back and relax”.

Now that dinner and dishes were done there wasn’t much else to do. Simon never bothered buying a tv since he was rarely home and didn’t care for it, but now its absence bothered him deeply. He started to take in the flat and realized just how empty it was, much like himself. Another mental note: buy a tv and set it up so Johnny wouldn’t be bored out of his mind. They settled into the couch, painfully aware that there was nothing for them to do. When he was alone it didn’t matter but now it was just another reminder of how devoid his life was of anything really outside of the 141. Johnny was unphased, content to sit there alongside him in silence. Ghost could breathe a little easier now as he remembered this was why held him in high regard. Soap understood him without needing anything to be explained. Could sit here on this couch and strike up conversation or sit quietly and be content. Maybe because he was wrapped up in thought he hadn’t noticed the way his leg pressed against Soap’s and wondered if he had moved over to him. His hand was on his lap and open. Gingerly, he placed his index finger into the palm and started to lightly trace. No particular pattern, just mindless drawing. Soap sighed contentedly and leaned slightly into him. The rain lightly tapping away at the windows and the occasional flash of light followed by low rumbling made for a comforting night.

Getting lost in the light sensation of tracing his palm, Soap's mind naturally wandered to a question and he didn’t even realize he asked it until he felt a shift next to him.

“When’d you know?”

There he was catching him off guard again but that’s probably what he admired most about him. Always breaking those patterns. Simon adjusted slightly, never ceasing contact as he wondered the answer to that question. When did he realize that what he felt was more than friendship?

“Mm..kind of hard to pick a specific moment…more like a collection”

Soap continued to listen, letting the man find his words naturally. They had nothing but time.

“When you asked about Pumpkin after his passing, didn’t think you’d even remember me mentioning him”

The hand he’s tracing on gives his finger a light squeeze.

“When you gave me a birthday”

That one gets a chuckle. It was May and they were holed up in yet another shack waiting for further instructions when the Sergeant had come to the realization he didn’t know when the Lieutenant's birthday was. Knowing better than to try the guessing game, he opted to flick on the Zippo lighter he carried.

“Happy Birthday, Lt.”

“The fuck are you on about? It’s not my birthday”

“Ok, only 364 other days it could be”

The silence was loud but he persisted until eventually Ghost was convinced he’d burn his fingers holding the lighter if only to get what he wanted.

“Thought you were gonna burn the damn shack down”

“Aye, I would have, so it’s a good thing you did it” he grins mischief all over his face.

Another eye roll and the jawline beneath the mask shifts indicating another smile. It makes him melt, wanting to see it again but the next answer shifts his attention.

“That night.” his tone drops a note and his eyes are focused.

“When I had that dream”

Johnny’s breath hitches. He remembers it really well. It was a night he couldn’t sleep and was wandering around base aimlessly. Maybe not so aimless, he had a destination in mind. He knew Ghost would more than likely be awake so he figured he’d kill some time with him. Hand at the ready for a knock, he could hear faint rustling and what sounded like choking? It made all his hairs stand on end and before he could actually process a proper response, he’d already picked the lock and made his way into the room. Crouched and silent he moved through the dark trying to locate Ghost and when he did, the sight shattered his heart. He was on the floor next to the bed, one arm on the mattress but the other, his hand was wrapped around his throat in a vice grip. He didn’t have the mask on and even in the dark Soap could make out the expression. His face was twisted with grief and panic but it was the eyes that made him hurt most. Ghost was caught in a flashback, physically there but not mentally. PTSD, they had multiple seminars but it was his first time witnessing it so close and raw. Gently, he called out to him signaling his approach but Ghost made no indication that he had heard, too lost in a memory. He repeated and slowly walked over, eventually crouching next to him, placing a hand on his back gingerly. The touch snapped him to attention but he was still coming down and he wound up grabbing Soap by the shoulders with so much force he had bruises for days. Still, he didn’t budge, opting instead to continue calling him gently in an effort to reorient him.

**End flashback**

“You had your eyes closed”

“Course..knew how ye felt, wanted to respect that” Johnny mumbled softly as he encircled the other’s wrist to bring the hand up for a soft kiss. The gesture makes his eyes soften and Simon takes the very same hand to run his fingers along his jawline, feeling the light stubble growing in.

“Never treated me any different after”

“Why would I? You’re still Simon to me”

That makes him lower his head until their foreheads touch, their hands never ceasing contact, just in the moment. God, what was it about this man that made him feel so..human. They stay that way for a moment before Ghost becomes curious about Soap’s answers. There’s movement under the mask, the nervous clenching of his jaw and a pensive look in his eyes, unsure of how to go about asking.

“And-?” the rest of the question gets lost as his throat tightens. He motions a nod at the man looking back at him, who was questioning how and what exactly he meant.

“Oh! That one’s easy, after Las Almas” It comes out so smoothly, flowing out of him naturally. Typical Johnny.

The breath he was holding stutters in his chest and settles in,making him ache in a way he didn’t realize was possible.

“But, that was..”

“A while ago, yup didn’t know I had the hots for ye after all this time eh?” he grins nervously now, rubbing a hand up and down the back of his head.

Another blush creeps in and he clears his throat attempting to get some semblance of a conversation going, but it’s hard. It was becoming increasingly obvious that he was out of practice with the whole affair. Anxiety starts setting in, the one that tells him he’s no good, deserves nothing, least of all the man in front of him. Why did he think he could get this? How long before he fucks it all up like he always does? Sensing the change in his mood, Johnny rambles on.

“Think I did a pretty good job aye? Never let on, just stayed focused, shoved all those feelings down, only letting myself feel ‘em when I was alone”

That makes Simon snap out of the well of self sabotage and anxiety. The pain in his chest radiating throughout his core now. He takes both hands in his, squeezing on and off. A pathetic effort to communicate and convey everything he’s felt over the years. It sets off bells for Johnny who mentally kicks himself for that thing he does where his mouth is all gas and no breaks.

“Sorry, that’s a lot. Didnae mean to put all of that on ye…ye don’t have to respond. Got an idea, why don’t we have a rematch-”

Hands grasp at the back of his neck, pushing him into a fervent and desperate kiss. The other grasps at his jaw, willing it to open when a nip goes unanswered due to shock. His lips part, deepening the kiss, tongues gliding over each other; an attempt to express all the longing and passion. It’s nothing but soft pants and wet kisses in the air as they vye for control. Simon pulls away first and stands looking for something and it gives Johnny whiplash, still anxious regarding the conversation earlier. Much to his relief he returns with an item in his hands. It’s the board they had used in the hospital. The writing is quick and sloppy, his hand trying to match the speed of his thoughts.

Long time to have feelings, thought about you too only when I was alone
It’s written in blue marker, the color they used to indicate sadness.

Johnny reads it and it does nothing to settle his nerves, his heart practically ready to leap out of his chest when he sees the man writing again.

Sorry

“Wha? Sorry for what?”

There’s more hesitation, before he’s scribbling again.

I’m bad at this

That gets a soft smile and slight shake of the head before he corrects him.

“We’re bad at this Lt”

He hears a soft chuckle and it soothes his frayed nerves. It all made sense when none of it did.

“Ever thought about a transfer?” Simon gruffs out. He’s caught off guard once more but he wants to support Simon the few times he does manage to express himself outside of the board.

“Mm..loads of times”

It’s so slight and fleeting but he catches Simon’s brief look of surprise.

“It’s hard Lt…burning for someone that long. And nothing ever makes it better, only worse”

Simon drops his head again but Johnny presses on owing it to himself to also get it out there and share his side.

“It was mainly…me, y’know? Knew I was playing a dangerous game but kept lying to myself saying things like it’s enough to be beside him, don’t need anything else”

It hangs in the air between them, fear rising in him again before he sees the board turned his way once more.

Don’t shove it down, I want to know

It knocks the air out of his chest and he has to prop his elbows on his knees, head bowed down in an effort to control all the emotions threatening to burst forward. His lungs fill with a shaky breath while he clears his mind to continue, blinking away the familiar sting in his eyes.

“When you let me touch you again, I knew I was ruined”

“Mm.. the bar…I remember”

It was after another op that had nearly gone up in smoke but they managed to scrape it out and Price suggested a celebration, on his tab of course. Soap imbibed one too many and was three sheets to the wind along with everyone else. Everyone except Ghost, who despite their peer pressuring remained steadfast in his resolve to only have two. He had been sitting at the bar when Johnny had returned from wherever his drunken shenanigans had taken him. Whether it was the alcohol making his blood pump hotter or the remaining adrenaline working its way out of his system, he decided to sling an arm around his lieutenant’s shoulders and lean into him in a drunken stupor.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen Price or Gaz sober up so quickly”

A breath puffs out that he can only assume is another laugh before he continues, feeling slightly emboldened.

“And then I got stupid, touching ye more and saying things, deluding myself”

He pauses, heavily considering this next part, filling his lungs again, willing the breath to give him courage.

“The first time I really thought about transferring… was that time you snuck off base”

He sees the head snap back up, facing him, eyes slightly wider than before. Ultimately, he turns away again, shame creeping up steadily.

“It’s natural Lt…would’ve been more worried if ye never got up to anything”

“It..it was..rare-”

“Ye don’t have to explain to me Simon, it’s ok love”

The silence stretches out longer and with it the tension. They sit there awkwardly before Johnny decides that if he’s gone this far might as well go all the way with it. Lord knows he only dreamt about an opportunity like this for who knows how long. A chance to let the man know how much he yearned for him. How he was his sole tormentor and savior all in one.

“After that, I filled out the forms but couldn’t bring myself to submit them. Guess I just liked the pain after a while” he swallows the emotions down but the lump in his throat is hard and it makes his eyes water even more, threatening to spill over as he recalls the pining and sleepless nights.

“You’re not alone in that Johnny”

Now it’s his turn to be surprised. The admission leaves him staring in disbelief as he waits before Simon completes the thought.

“One of those nights where I let my mind wander..and I-” he pauses wrestling for control, wanting to meet the man halfway.

“I realized it was more than” a hand waves in the air, the pause nearly unbearable as Johnny can hear his heart beating wildly in his ears.

“And it scared the living shit out of me because…because I haven’t cared in such a long time”

Johnny just nods his head in stunned silence, not wanting to interrupt the flow.

“When you’d take your time to answer over comms or get those harebrained ideas, it-” and he can’t finish. It’s too much to admit the fear that gripped him in those situations and the reminder that he was still in fact very human. The layers of stone, war and death he’d built around himself meant nothing when it came to the man before him. It takes him a while to start again and he’s grateful for the hand that’s found its way to his, thumb lightly caressing a silent encouragement.

“Asked Price about it once”

“And what’d Cap say?”

“Sort my shit out and never ask him again” he snorted and they both have a genuine laugh about it. Both making mental notes to thank the captain again.

“But I couldn’t do it either, couldn’t trust you with anyone else”

“What’s that mean?” Soap squawks accusingly.

Simon slides in closing the gap again until their thighs press together, snaking a hand up Johnny’s neck to card his fingers through that messy mop he calls hair and grabbing a nice fistful.

“It means you’re a stubborn bastard that has a hard time listening”

The zing that bounces around his skull has Johnny seeing stars and standing at full attention in an embarrassingly short amount of time. A soft whimper escapes before he can fully shut his mouth. There’s an experimental twist again that forces him to stifle a moan as the nearly unbearable heat now courses through his entire body. The grip releases quickly and his neck is attacked, littered with kisses and nips hard enough that he knows there will be marks. The idea of wearing these marks makes him harder and all he can do is wrap himself around those massive shoulders, suffocating against those biceps. Simon continues licking his way down to the collarbones, dipping a tongue into the divots and nibbling on the stray scar here and there. Each a small reminder of the times this could have been taken from him. He shoves the shirt up, impatient, wanting to explore every inch of the man moaning beneath him. The feel of taut muscle over smooth skin against his lips, paired with that cologne was driving him further into madness. When his cheek brushes against the gauze pad on his side it forces him to stop completely, haunting him. It’s a stark contrast against the lightly tanned skin, dusted with freckles and dark hair. A thumb gently glides around the perimeter, too afraid to touch it. Johnny catches on, wondering why the pressure pushing down on him had suddenly ceased. Seeing the mournful look in Simon’s eyes, feeling fingers delicately dance around his wound, he interlocks their fingers and places a gentle kiss once more, holding it there. His gaze heavy with desire he gives an experimental push of his hips. Simon’s eyes shutter close and a throaty groan rumbles deep in his chest, relishing the friction. Switching positions, he leans back pulling Johnny on top of him so he's straddling, running his hands along his thighs, gripping his ass.

“Fuck…want you so bad” Johnny moans.

His ministrations never stop, fingers grazing along the smaller man’s back coming to a light rest around the waist.

“Want you too but remember doctor’s orders Johnny”

“Wha? To hell with that! No, I need you now” he emphasizes this with a slow grind that makes the man under him choke and wrestle with his self control.

“No…mmf..your stitches”

“What about ‘em? They’re up here out of harm’s way…and what I want is here”

Determined to get his way he holds Simon’s face between one hand, tonguing him down while leading the other into his pants. He grabs a handful, huffing out in disbelief at the heat and sheer size of him.

“Fucking hell” is all Simon can manage to croak out, actively fighting the urge to pin him down right there and fuck him into oblivion. Instead, he grasps both arms, dipping his head forward into the other’s chest whilst taking deep breaths. The doctor was very strict and clear about no rigorous activity much to the two’s embarrassment upon discharge. The stitches needed at least two weeks to dissolve and even then required a follow up to ensure proper healing.

“After the doc clears you”

Johnny groans knowing Simon and his stupid resolve. Once it was no the man was dead set. He leans backwards in defeat, nearly throwing himself off causing his lieutenant to scramble to catch him.

“Oi, watch your stitches don’t be a brat”

It only makes him pout more as he leans further into the hands supporting him, arching himself back, arms dangling openly. The behavior makes Simon smile but he’s not going to let him get away with that so he momentarily removes his hands, causing Johnny to briefly drop backwards before he catches him again. It has the effect he wants because the younger man clambers on to him, yelping out in surprise.

“Ach! Ya bampot!” he punches a fist playfully into the tops of his shoulders. The arms encircling him bring him closer and he can feel the other man smiling against his abdomen. This was going to be a long two weeks. There was no way he was going to survive without seeing some kind of action. Ever the schemer, a thought crosses his mind. Leaning back down, he flicks his tongue around the shell of his ear and whispers:

“Can I at least taste you?”

Simon had been so close, so close to getting his erection down and with just a few words he felt himself springing back to life.

“Johnny…”

“That’s not a no” he smiles back, mischief written all over his face and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious. Ever since he caught him in the shower the image of his tongue gliding along that lower lip created a need to feel those lips and that tongue against him. As he warred with himself, Johnny had deftly undone the buttons on his pants only making his presence known once he started to press down on the large damp spot. It shocks Simon out of his internal struggle, hips bucking against the slight pressure.

“When the fuck?!” the fight melting out of him as a light grip encircles the head. Johnny pushes off of him, lowering himself between the man’s knees, prepared to worship him endlessly. Hands find their way to his hair, a haphazard attempt to stop the inevitable. His love of proximity to danger creeps up and now he wants the man to snap, to thrust himself down his throat forcing him to tear and claw for breath. Grasping the tip he leans his head on his inner thigh, pressing his mouth against the covered base and breathes him in, intoxicated by the scent. A well placed nibble at that same spot has Ghost pressing him deeper, now grinding against that feeling. Realizing the opportunity he hooks his fingers below the hem, turning his eyes upwards for confirmation. The lust filled gaze staring back at him followed by a rapid nod gives him the answer he needs as he pulls down. He tries to suppress the wine that comes out partly out of surprise at the sheer fucking size of the man and the way his cock bows back slapping against that sculpted abdomen.

“Love…yer fucking huge” he purrs, shocked at just how full and heavy it is in his hand. Not wanting to wait any longer he licks a fat stripe along the underside from bottom to the flushed top, nibbling there too for a moment before taking the head in an experimental suck.

“Haa..fuckk.!” Simon moans loudly unabashed, releasing his hold to grip the cushions beneath him, slamming his head backwards.

It’s all the praise Johnny needs to take him in further, marveling at the length and girth expanding his throat. He loved the way he struggled to accommodate him, feeling the walls of his throat flutter. Simon’s eyes were closed, head thrown back in pure bliss but Johnny wanted, no, needed the man even more. Finding both of his hands he led them back to his hair, breaking the man out of the trance, meeting the hazy gaze with a wink. There was nothing fucking hotter than watching that moment of realization play out across his face. The way that dark hunger filled his eyes and the subsequent snap of his hips that drove him further down the man’s throat. It buried his nose against the soft blonde hairs and made tears stream down but God did it feel incredible. It makes him feel drunk with power, watching this man take full control while simultaneously losing himself. Simon pulls him off so the man can breathe, realizing how close to the edge he was, needing to stave it off so he can feel him just a bit longer. He leans forward to get a taste of him and Johnny mingled together whilst also checking on him, worried if he was too rough. No words needed, just a soft suckle of his lower lip and Soap’s head dips down once more to continue, wrapping a hand around the base gliding it in tandem with his tongue and mouth. He lets his other hand dance along those abs up towards a nipple, bewildered when he feels cold metal forcing him to stop again.

“Your nipples pierced?!”

Seemingly having forgotten as well, Simon’s blush intensifies.

“Yes…got it years ago”

“Steamin Jesus could ye get any hotter Lt?” he husks out whilst rolling the nipple between his fingers.

The cry the man above him releases is addicting, egging him on to bring him to completion. His movements increase with fervor, spit and tears everywhere, his throat utterly ravaged. He hears his panting quicken as muscles twitch beneath his touch, all the signs that he’s close. Taking him in fully he holds, flexing the muscles around his throat to squeeze even tighter, ripping an animalistic moan out the man. It’s white hot and blinding as he spills down the younger man’s throat, not a drop going to waste. When he pulls off, he’s dizzy from the effort and rests his head on an inner thigh, panting. Before he can gather his bearings, he’s picked up and gently placed on the couch, a soft kiss on his forehead before Simon walks off to get a clean towel. When he returns he refuses to let Johnny clean himself, ensuring he’s thoroughly cleansed. He inspects the bandage, slightly regretful, worried he’d caused further damage.

“Any pain?” He asks, assessing the site closely.

“No love I’m good, perfect even”

“That you are” Simon muses softly, indulging and running his fingers through his hair. The answer makes Johnny flush pink and reach up for a kiss. Still buzzing from earlier he gasps when he feels a vice grip on his thigh. Simon nuzzles his neck, returning a breathy whisper in his.

“My turn”

The pooling heat in his stomach starts to tingle and it makes his heart race. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, he knows that but he struggles even now to admit his little secret. Sure, he just had his mouth full of the man but how does he explain? Simon can feel the way his body goes rigid and pulls away, searching for any sign of pain or discomfort.

“I-I’ve never..erm..had anyone do that for me..before..”

“The hell you talking about Johnny?”

It’s more awkward silence, Soap silently begging for him to get the hint, too embarrassed to explain. He sees his eyebrows go up slightly, the expression changing. He trails a hand down to his waist, looping a finger through the belt hoop.

“Do you want me to be the last?”

“Uh..I think you mean the first?”

But when he looks at Simon his gaze is dark and possessive and it makes him shudder. His first and last. The warmth coursing through him is dizzying and he can only manage to throw an arm over his face and nod. Before making quick work of his pants, Simon firmly grasps his wrist, moving his arm away. Johnny deserved to witness being worshipped so he trails kisses down his abdomen asking a question along the way.

“Why?”

Johnny has to push through the haze of arousal trying to form some semblance of a response.

“Dunno…would give but no one ever gave back and figured what’s the point in asking?”

The thought of others having him stoked that fire of jealousy but the idea that they did and failed to revere him was worse. The trembling under him is so slight so he bites into the crest of his hip, Simon glanced up; a silent confirmation. A gentle squeeze to the base and the pearls of pre cum were streaming down. Wasting no time he flicked out his tongue to lap up every drop, not letting a single one go to waste. He can see Soap’s head snapback and the muscles beneath his finger tips flexing. Taking another lick from the bottom to top, he places a small kiss just under the head, slightly suckling after. Johnny’s hands now wrapped around his blonde strands,caressing and pulling simultaneously. He wraps his lips around the head flicking his tongue before taking him in further. It’s a bit of struggle but he’s proud to do this, the first and last to ever taste him. He has to coach himself through it, the sergeant was well endowed and not to mention this was also his first time doing this for someone. Soap is lost in the bliss he doesn’t realize he’s arching his hips up and pushing Simon’s head down repeatedly. Not until he hears the man gag and the sight that greets him pushes him further to the edge. There was his lieutenant, mouth full of cock, eyes brimmed with tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Sorry love, got carried away” he says sheepishly while bringing him up for air. Simon coughs a few times and Soap has to contain himself when he hears the rasp in his voice.

“S’ok..is it..good..?”

Maybe it’s the way he looks down too timid to meet his gaze or because he’s genuinely asking about his performance, Soap cannot contain himself anymore. His only response is to grip those beautiful locks again before shoving his face back down. He groans when he feels Simon’s hands wrapped around his ass, thrusting him deeper. There’s nothing but wet squelching and moans before Johnny feels that familiar pressure building. Simon knows it’s coming the way he’s bucking out of rhythm. It’s a split decision but he wants this to be memorable for Johnny. There’s whines of displeasure when he pulls off suddenly. Bleary eyed and barely coherent Soap glances down to see why. His brain is lagging behind but watching Ghost dip two tattooed fingers into his mouth brings him back up to speed. The digits are slick and it makes him shudder in anticipation. Simon looks up at him again to confirm this is ok and the only response he receives are legs spreading wider. Wrapping his lips once more to continue his ministrations he lines up a finger against his entrance and slowly pushes past the tight ring. The grip in his hair loosens and there is an audible hiss that forces him to stop momentarily. He's prepared to take it slow and give him time not wanting to cause him any discomfort. The sergeant has other plans however. He pushes all the way down to the knuckle and grinds. Simon can feel just how hot and tight he is and groans with a mouth full. The vibration sends Johnny into a frenzy and now he’s grinding in a rhythm so he can get pleasure from both sides. Deciding another couldn’t hurt Simon steadies the younger man’s hips momentarily to add a second finger. Soap releases his hold on his head, gripping the couch and spreading himself even further open, unashamed of just how lewd he looked. If Ghost weren’t a better man he’d pin him down right now and force him to take him but this was about Johnny’s pleasure. He’s desperate to find his spot but it doesn’t take him long because when he does Soap nearly levitates off the couch. His moans are so loud now there’s no way he isn’t going to get a noise complaint. The steady rhythm is growing wilder and more frantic indicating he’s close. He dips down one final time, holding himself at the hilt while stroking that spot again. Soap’s entire body seizes and Ghost thoroughly enjoys the pulsing cock, releasing his spend down his throat. He barely has time to rest before Johnny is scrambling down to press their lips together. The taste of sweat and cum has him stirring up again so he breaks the kiss and hangs his head in the crook of his neck breathing deeply.

“Was that too much?” Johnny pants, now alarmed and gaining a bit more clarity.

“No, was perfect just controlling myself” he presses a kiss against his carotid, liking the way it pumps steadily, a reminder that he’s alive and here with him.

“Well you know I’m always ready for more” he replies with a smirk and Ghost knows there’s more truth than joking to that statement.

“Same here but doctor’s orders or did you cum so hard you forgot?” with that he flicks his forehead, surprised to hear a dull thud and not a resounding echo.

Johnny flops back down on the couch, smiling to himself knowing this was the furthest it would go tonight but completely satisfied. He lets Simon fuss over cleaning him up and listens when he wants to inspect the stitches.

“Shit, you’re bleeding”

“Mm not my first time Lt, I’ll be ok I’m not in pain”

“That’s not the point Johnny, you’re supposed to be on bedrest”

“Can’t help myself got a hot nurse y’know?”

Simon only rolls his eyes and huffs exasperated. Once he’s sure that there’s no further damage and the stitches are intact, he changes the dressing. When he secures the last bit of tape he hesitates before placing a soft kiss right on top of the gauze. It melts everything in Johnny and he can’t help but to wrap himself around the man, placing kisses everywhere. Amidst the show of affection, a muffled question comes out.

“Did you enjoy it?”

“‘Mm yeah best I’ve ever had” he jokes again but can see Simon looks…nervous?

“What’s wrong, love? Ye had me seeing stars!”

Simon avoids his gaze again and Johnny has to fight down the part of him that is really attracted to that.

“What? You got complaints before? Cuz I’ve got none”

“Not that just… my first time too”

Soap has to work on his poker face because he wants to be supportive. He’s sure he misheard or is misunderstanding so he sits there just nodding dumbly until the dots fully connect.

“Wait…ye mean..like..ever? How?”

“Never liked anyone enough to do it”

He was a man of few words and explanations but the answer filled Johnny with pride. It also made him feel a little sappy.

“So we’re each other’s last huh?”

There’s a slight stretch of silence that makes him nervous and second guess that question. Suddenly, he’s being pulled down on the couch in between long legs and his chin being turned up for a kiss.

The rest of the night is spent like this, one curled against the other while they spoke softly about everything they never could before. There’s the occasional chuckle or playful punch amidst the stories of childhood. Johnny’s the first to nod off leaving Simon with his thoughts.

Can I have this?
Do I deserve this?

Familiar patterns are hard to break and he finds himself ruminating. His heart rate picks up and suddenly he’s running hot and cold. Now the clothes on his skin and Johnny’s weight are too much. He squeezes his eyes shut and attempts to breathe through it, not wanting to disturb the man sleeping on top of him.

Fuck. You’re ruining it before it even begins

Nothing is working and it starts to freak him out more. This was too much. Then, a new symptom: it feels like there’s a hand over his face. He’s frozen for some time before realizing it’s Soap’s actual hand on his face. Then he hears the faint mumbling.

 

“Johnny?” It comes out muffled on account of the hand staying right where it was.

“I said stop over thinking ya numpty”

“….”

“Yeah s’right I’m in your brain” and he emphasizes this by lightly tapping his temple before chuckling.

“Hm, is that so…then what am I thinking of right now?”

There’s a small pause before arms wrap themselves around his neck and pull him into a soft kiss.

“That and ye want to carry me to bed” he flashes a sleepy grin.

“Got the first part right”

Soap says nothing but the scowl is audible, making a small smile form on Simon’s lips. He motions for the other to sit up and untangles himself. Right as Johnny prepares himself to join the other man he’s hoisted in the air. It makes him scramble, grasping for stability anywhere he can find it which conveniently is around Ghost’s neck.

“So I am a mind reader”

He only gets a light grunt in response but it’s enough for him.

Gently, he’s placed onto the bed and he scoots over, holding up the blanket so Simon can slide in.
The bed is only a twin but they’ve made worse work out in the field. And they lay there stroking new patterns into the other’s skin until they drift off to sleep.