Chapter Text
Patience. That’s everything a good sniper needs. Patience. The ability to stay still, wait for long periods of time, lining up the whole just right. It was a necessity for survival in Ghost’s case. Something he was always able to do well. Sit quietly, wait for directions, line the shot, shoot. It was his normal. He was used to taking dozens of lives this way. He was used to waiting.
And here he was, once again waiting on top a building. It was raining out. Heavy rain that drowned out noise. He had to rely purely on sight for this, but sight was also obscured as rain would come down, hitting the scope in such a way that it blurred his entire field of vision. It wasn’t anything new to him. He could deal with this minor inconvenience.
Ghost knew that down there, somewhere on the roads, Johnny, otherwise known as ‘Soap,’ was sneaking about as well.
The two had known each other for a long time, working many missions together and being comrades for years. Some of the hardest and most dangerous missions, they were the ones to take them, which had built quite the reputation for themselves at the force. They had… something. Something neither could really explain, but it was a good thing.
Together they made an amazing team. Strong and reliable. Their skills complemented one another well, and they were able to rely and trust each other completely. Putting your life in someone else’s hands isn’t an easy thing to do, but with the level of trust they had built, it was only natural now. Soap protected Ghost, and Ghost protected Soap. It had always been that way.
It was quiet for far too long, only the sound of rain could be heard by the Lieutenant before Soap started speaking after what had seemed like hours of nothing.
“It’s pishin’ it doon out here.”
“Speak English.” Ghost replies, rolling his eyes slightly.
“It’s raining fuckin’ hard.” The Sergeant says, sounding stern and annoyed.
“Then say so.”
“I did!” Ghost shakes his head, smiling to himself at Soap’s Scottish accent.
Soap’s voice could only be described as attractive. It was just the right amount of deep that made him also sound peaceful in a strange and unexplainable way. Ghost always found himself amused at how his accent would thicken, especially when he was angry or passionate about something.
“Rain’s good.” Ghost wipes the scope with his glove, in attempts to clear some of the excess water that had built up over time. It didn’t go to plan as it started smearing around, leaving annoying bits of residue. “It’ll cover your tracks.”
“Covers theirs too..” Ghost could hear Soap give a small sigh on the other end of the radio. He hums slightly before answering again.
“Let’s worry about you, Johnny.”
“So you do like me?” Soap was smirking. Ghost could hear it in his voice. That cocky bastard.
That was another thing about their dynamic. Downright flirtatious things the two said back and forth, their little “banters” you could call it, for a reason he couldn’t place his finger on, Ghost liked it. He really liked it.
Perhaps it was mere boredom that had him thinking their talks and back and forth jabs were fun. Something about hearing the Sergeant’s voice on the other side teasing him just made missions more bearable and easier to endure.
“I like you alive…” He says in response, maybe even leaving a slight bit of hinting with it. Soap didn’t say much back this time, only a short laugh. Ghost hated himself.
“How’s the rooftops lookin’ L.T.?” Soap asks after a few more several minutes of silence. “Prolly can’t be much better up there than down here, can it?”
“Like you said,” Patience. “It’s raining fuckin’ hard.” Patience.
“Prolly not any easier with that scope, aye?”
“Negative.”
“I can only imagine.”
He’s started to lose patience. Ghost sits up slightly, bringing the scope from his eye to look down over the streets now. Still no movement. Ghost turns his head skyward and blinked as rain fell onto his masked face, clinging to his eyelashes.
“Can't wait to get back.” Soap lets out a tired breath.
“Stay focused, Sergeant.” Ghost says harshly, looking back down to the roads; Almost as if he had caught himself lacking as well.
“I am focused.”
“Hardly sounds that way.” He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to be back as well, but he couldn’t let that cloud his mind. Wants and needs are two different things. They wanted to be back, but they were needed out here. He doubted they’d be back for at least another hour or two.
“L.T.” Soap finally says quickly.
“What is it?”
“I’m in an old building.” Ghost could almost facepalm at Johnny right now.
“An why the fuck do I needa know that?”
“Shouldn’ I keep ya updated?”
“Not unless you find something useful.” He sighs, now taking aim down at the streets again. Still silent. No movement. It brought a slight concern within him. It was quiet. All too quiet… “You seen anyone, Sergeant?” He asks finally over the radio.
“Not a single one, Sir.”
“Hm…”
“There somethin’ wrong?”
“It’s a little too silent for my liking.”
“You’re on edge. Sit back. Relax a lil, aye?”
“Negative.” His answer firm. Soap should know to not say shit like that. There was no ‘relaxing’ on a mission. Not with lives at steak. He needed to stretch… why not? He had time.
He turned off his mic, then sitting upright, he brought both his arms up above his head, pushing his torso out slightly to crack his back. He let out a small grunt as he felt tensed muscles relax. That was slightly better.
“L.T.?”
“Copy.” He flips his mic back on.
“You went quiet on me for a second there.”
“Needed a stretch.” He said, moving back into position. “I been up here for hours now.”
“Ah.”
“I gotta keep talkin’ to ya every minute?”
“Nah.” There was silence after, as if Soap were proving a point. Ghost knew Soap kept his mic on almost ninety percent of the time, only turning it off if need be. Ghost was the opposite, turning his off every couple sentences so that he got some time alone.
“OI! FUCK!” Soap suddenly yelled on the other end. Ghost’s adrenaline kicked in, and he sat at attention, staying silent. On Johnny’s side, gunshots could be heard then came to a stand still.
“J-Johnny?” Ghost couldn’t help the slight stutter in his tone. “How copy?”
“I’m.. I'm alright.”
“Are you wounded?”
“Nah.” He gives a shuddered sigh. “Just shaken a lil. Mother fuckers surprised me.”
“Good. How many?”
“Two.”
Ghost could hear something down the street a little ways off now. “I hear somethin’. The shots must’ve alerted the others. Wouldn’t be surprised if a few are running around in the open now.”
“You gonna be arrite?”
“I can handle myself.”
“I’m comin’ back a little.”
“Roger that. Stay on the downlow, Sergeant.” Then there it was. The first person of the night. Ghost took aim, rain still tapping at the scope lense. He could do it. It was an easy shot. He pointed the red of the scope over his opponent’s head. He won’t even see it coming. His heart raced slightly, so he took a deep breath, steadying his hand.
A click as he pulls the trigger, gun pushing back slightly from force. The man dropped. Too easy..
“Got one.”
“Beautiful.”
Ghost shifts at Soap’s reaction, aiming as he sees another man come around the corner, noticing his friend.
Many years ago, Ghost would’ve felt bad, no doubt. Those two men were probably friends, and to see your friend dead before you died yourself… He had to leave that side of him behind, that sympathy and guilt. And that was the second thing that made a good sniper…
Blood, pain, sorrow. Those were all things common for him.
Five were down now in the streets, the rain making blood spread, painting the streets with red. He had to move eventually, but it seemed eerily silent now.
“Soap, how copy?”
“I’m close.”
“Good. I think I cleared most of ‘em.”
“Lovely, Sir.”
“Shaddup.” Ghost couldn't take all much more of that.
“I’m in a building. I see your rope up there.”
Ghost had this thing where he would hang a short black rope tied at the end over the building edge he would stay on for Johnny to know where he was.
“Good. Come out, I’ve gotcha covered.” Soap comes out, only to suddenly be jumped by a man that had been hiding by the building side. He had a knife. Ghost sits up, watching carefully. He couldn’t make a shot here. Not when Soap was that close.
The man grabs Soap, raising the knife up, but Soap manages to push him off quickly, then draws his gun, shooting him twice before the man was on the ground, unmoving like the other bodies.
“Got me covered, aye?”
“Didn’ see him. And you had it under control.”
“Yeah. Better you didn’t shoot with me so close anyway.”
“That the last of ‘em?”
“Seems that way.” With that, Soap shoots his gun in the air. Nothing happened and no one came. “Safe to say, we’re prolly alone now, L.T.”
“Good. Went smoother than I thought.” Ghost stands, stretching again. “Mm. Guess we can start gettin’ back. Get back to the truck, I’ll meet ya there.”
“Roger.” Soap starts on his way back to where they had the truck parked. Ghost watches him move down the alleyway before thinking of his next move.
Now it was time to get off this roof. Ghost shivered slightly in the rain, heading for the roof door and heading down. Stairs of the abandoned house creaked below as he went down, going out the front door to then walk down the wet alleyways.
He was exhausted. The time was 01:19 and he was ready to get back and just sleep as long as he could. He had been on that roof since the dark fall, which happened at around 20:00.
“Fuckin’ hell.” He gives a final sigh, breathing in cold air of the night before hopping into the passenger's side of the truck.
“I’m beat.” Soap says, starting the vehicle up.
“Tell me ‘bout it.” Ghost leans back in his seat, closing his eyes. The ride back was silent, neither really having energy to make conversation. It was nice. Comforting. The presence of each other, the sounds of the rain hitting the truck roof. It felt like Ghost didn’t need to do much at that moment, just sit and enjoy what was there. It felt like he could actually hear his thoughts. Of course, it didn’t last nearly long enough.
“‘Ere we are.” Soap says, getting out of the truck as it comes to a stop in the parking lot of the base. Ghost hesitates, before pushing his own door open to step out, cold air once again hitting against the fabric of his clothes. The base was quiet for the most part, not a lot of people were up this late and no one greeted them at the entrance, other than a few higher ups and commanders. Some lights were on, but otherwise it was dark.
“Guess I should be turnin’ in for the night.” Ghost says as the two walk up to the door. Light conversation and saying their subtle ‘goodnights’ was not uncommon between them before they went inside after a mission like tonight’s. It was a small thing, but they always did it.
“Yeah, me too. Doubt I’ll be gettin’ a whole lotta beauty sleep.” Ghost only shakes his head as Soap laughs lightly. “Ya did good out there.” There was a hesitation, like Soap was contemplating his next move. There was tension as Ghost waited for.. something.
Finally, to Ghost’s surprise, Soap pulled him close, hugging him tightly. His eyes went wide, face feeling warm at this motion and he was hyper aware at the grasp on his waist. He shivers. What if someone was seeing this right now?! He didn’t know where to put his arms. He wasn’t used to such a gesture like this. How was he expected to react?
Ghost could smell Soap with this proximity, and it wasn’t bad. His scent of cologne mixed with sweat was manly and oddly comforting. It made Ghost’s head spin.
“Hey..” Ghost ends up pushing Soap back, not knowing what else to do. He felt overwhelmed and couldn’t let the mask slip. Not like this.
“Sorry.” Soap says, immediately apologizing. He looked almost embarrassed with what he had done. “I just… I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry.”
“‘S fine.” Ghost says. This is not fine. “G’night, Johnny.” This is NOT fine!
He pulled the door to the base open, stepping inside, collecting his thoughts for a moment. What the hell. He felt his skin was heated, tingly still. This could not be good.
Walking down the hall, he tried to remain calm within himself. It’s just a hug. It’s just a hug. No that wasn’t it. As close as they both were, they had never hugged. Never.
Ghost hated himself. He hated these feelings that were developing for Soap. And more importantly…
Touch starved was an understatement. Ghost was completely deprived of human affection, to the point that the simple hug Johnny had just given him was enough to stir some arousal into him.
It felt so right, yet so wrong at the same time. He felt like he didn’t deserve it. He felt guilty for enjoying it so much…
… but Johnny was warm, and his skin soft. It sent chills down Ghost’s whole back and arms when he had held him close like that, fingertips grazing almost shyly at the taller man’s hips.
“Fuckin’ hell.” Ghost whispers to himself, walking back to his room. He was hard. Annoyingly hard. Painfully even. “Christ…” If he was this weak after a hug, what would other things do to him? He almost didn’t want to think about that.
He was in love with his comrade. His partner. He didn’t know when or how or even why he was, but he knew it. Maybe it was when he showed his face to the Sergeant that he felt like this? No. It was before that. Regardless, he knew he was in love with John MacTavish, and he absolutely hated himself for that reason.
Making his way into his room and falling weakly onto his bed, he starts unbuckling his belt. Guilt, but it was so good. Wasting no time, he pulls his cock out of his pants, wrapping his right hand around it in a tight fist.
“Ahh..” Not even stroking it and he was turning into a mess. It had been a while. Far too long of a while, and now he had Soap, that stupid Scottish man on his mind when he did it. It had been weeks probably since the last time he got off, and this is who he was thinking of. His best friend.
He flicks his thumb over the tip, letting silent moans fall from his lips. This was as vulnerable as he’d let himself be… no. That was wrong. Ghost had other fantasies he kept to himself. He could never tell or admit it to anyone. Even the worst of torture wouldn’t get it out of him.
He wished for Soap on top, and he was ashamed of it. A large, strong man like himself, thinking of another man owning and dominating him? Fucking him? It was shameful. He hated his thoughts, but wanted it so badly. He wanted Johnny to do things to him he would never let another person do.
“Jo-” No. He cuts himself off, face flushed. I will not say his name. Not when I’m…
Another hushed whimper comes out as his fist slides up and down his dick, setting a slow and even pace out. He was sensitive. More than what it normally felt like. It also felt better than usual. He wasn’t going to last long.
“Fuckk.” He groans, turning on his side, moving his other hand down the back of his pants. More guilt. He slides a finger inside himself, eyes squeezed shut tightly. “Ah, shit…”
This wasn’t like him… or was it? ‘Ghost’ was just a façade. A character he had to play to keep himself safe. ‘Ghost’ was cold, unforgiving, uncaring, unloving. That’s what he was. Well, that’s what he had to be.
He couldn’t let himself be soft. He couldn’t let himself feel. Feeling had put him through so much pain already, it would just be better if he was nothing. It would be better if he was this. It would be better to just be ‘Ghost.’
Simon pressed his finger back, mouth falling open at the sensation. He wanted to moan for Soap. He wanted to call out to him, just have him there, holding him, comforting him. Make the pain go away.
His pace quickened, chest rising and falling quickly. Shame was the last thing on his mind as pleasure took its place.
Wants and needs are two different things. He didn’t want the Sergeant. He needed him. He needed Soap to be there, fucking him and dicking him down until he couldn’t speak, until he couldn’t think.
He bites his lower lip, hard.
The feeling of John’s body still lingered on his skin. God why did it have to feel so good? His body was trembling with such a scary need for more. He should throw it all away. He wanted to risk it all for John.
Tired of the way things were going, he finally slips his pants down to his thighs, allowing more room to move his hand. He slipped another finger in with the first, pressing the tips into his prostate over and over again. His thighs shake, some humiliation coming back as he realizes how pathetic a sight he must be right now. Jerking off was embarrassing enough, but fucking himself on his fingers took it to a whole different level.
“Ngh..” He was warm, sweat forming on his abdominal region when his forearm hit his lower stomach. His cock ached for release. “More.. Johnny…” Oh, you fuckin’ idiot.
Saying his name made it feel all the more real somehow. It also made it feel better.
Simon was never really an imaginative person. He was never good with coming up with scenarios in his head to get off to, often needing help from a video or something of that sort. It was no different this time, and it frustrated him. He wanted to be able to just think up a scene of Soap overtop him, but it wasn’t nearly vivid enough to his liking.
He wished he had something. Anything of John’s. He wanted a hoodie maybe, that still smelt strongly of him. God.. his scent… Even that was enough to make him go wild and his dick twitch in his hand.
“Oh, fuckin’.. Christ’s sake…” His voice came out weak and worn out. He was close. Sooo fucking close. “I can..” He whispers to himself, trying for a third finger to push in. It was tight, making his back arch, eyebrows furrowing together with slight discomfort and pain that came with it. He’d never admit, even to himself, that he was opening himself up for Soap. Eventually he got it in, curling all three upward.
Finally, he sees stars in his vision as his entire body was wracked with an intense orgasm. Don’t say it again. Do NOT say it again!
“J-Johnny…” His hips push back and forth, stuttering as he hits the point of overstimulation. Thick ropes of cum shoot out of him as he shivers at the waves of pleasure overtaking him. It comes to an end almost as quick as it started, leaving him panting with a few tears in his eyes, threatening to fall.
He felt worn out, so much so he almost couldn’t feel much guilt with what he had just done. He would deal with that tomorrow. For now, he just laid limp on the bed, not bothering to pull his pants back up. He found himself slowly drifting into sleep.
Yes. Patience. That’s everything a good sniper needs… but Simon couldn’t be patient anymore. He needed Johnny.
~~~~~~~~
“Simon?” It was Soap- John’s voice speaking to him. He opened his eyes. They were both on top of a roof, somewhere out in the countryside. It was quiet, the sun was just starting to set over the fields, and it was warm. Summer. It was definitely summer.
A field of wheat or some crop of that kind was growing all around the house they were on. For some reason, Simon knew this was their house, but it didn’t feel quite right.
“Simon.” He turns his head now, looking at the smiling Scottish man. “What are ya thinkin’ bout?”
“Hm?” Simon didn’t have his mask on. He touched his face, feeling naked without it, but he didn’t feel fearful like he normally did.
“Oh. You’re remembering that?” John gives a sad look at Simon.
“‘M sorry.”
“Why should you be sorry? It’s arrite.” John leans forward pressing his lips against the other man’s. Ghost- Simon was shocked, but also it felt natural, like they had done it thousands of times before. “I get you’re gonna remember that. Being a soldier. Hell, even I remember though I’m tryna forget it.”
Simon felt tears running down his face. Shit. How could he be letting himself cry? Especially in front of someone?
“Hey. It’s arrite.” John put his hand overtop of Simon’s, holding it, gently squeezing pressure into it. “We don’t ever havta worry ‘bout that shit again, ya hear?”
“It’s so fucked, Johnny.” Simon said. Why could he be vulnerable? He could be. This was okay.
“I know. I know. I’m here.” He moves himself closer, arm wrapping around the taller of the two.
Simon had memories that didn’t feel like his. He knew that he and John were together now, living on this little farm out in the middle of nowhere. He remembered events leading up to it. He remembered telling John deep things about himself. Dark things. Things he had gone through, the pain he had experienced. And for some reason, that made him feel safe. John knew him. He really knew him.
Simon had a short sleeve shirt on. Something he didn’t wear around others without something overtop. A sweater, a long sleeve, something, anything. He had never shown or wanted anyone to know about the scars he inflicted upon himself long ago, but here he was. Short sleeve in the summer, and he didn’t feel uncomfortable, because John knew him.
“The sun is beautiful.” John says, looking at the sun that had creeped lower now, making shadows of distant trees spread farther and farther across the field.
“You’re beautiful.” Simon found himself saying. And it felt right. It didn’t feel like he should or have to hide it. John laughs lightheartedly.
“Ya always know what to say, Simon.” He smiles, giving a short breath out. “Ay, maybe we should get headed inside. It’s gettin’ late.” Simon nods, doing one last scroll over the fields and hills of land.
“Yeah.” He says it silently. It didn’t have to come to an end. “Let’s go in.” It didn’t have to end. Why did it have to end?
All good things must come to an end at some point.
~~~~~~~~
Ghost didn’t remember his dream, but he remembered everything that had happened the night before. Regret set in hard when he saw the state he was in. Fuck. What if someone came in here?! He was in desperate need of a shower and new clothes. Since he didn’t clean himself up, he now had a disgusting crust of dried semen on his gloved hand and some on his clothes. He almost gagged at this. How could he let himself fall asleep like this?
He pulls his pants up quickly, removing his soiled gloves and hurrying to get some different clothes. Today would be a casual day, so he got a dark grey long sleeve out and some cargo pants with new boxers along with an extra cloth mask.
He felt sore. His muscles ached as he walked down to the locker rooms for a shower. There were a few people in the halls as he walked down, but most avoided eye contact with him, which he was glad they did.
When he got to the locker rooms, he did a quick run down of the place to make sure no one was in there. Sure, people would come and go from time to time even when he showered, but they knew to leave him and others alone, and if they didn’t…
Ghost undressed himself, ridding himself of the mask last. He took the shower farthest away so if other guys came in they didn’t have to walk past him to get to other showers.
Luckily, this shower room had full walls. In the past, Ghost had to deal with only half walls, which made it so that other men would end up seeing his face if they came in. This was perfect. He set his clean clothes down on a bench by the shower before stepping in.
Showering was one of the worst parts of Ghost’s day, as he hated seeing himself undressed. His body didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like his.
He turned the water on, initially flinching at the cold, but then let his body get used to it. His showers were almost always cold. It woke him up better and made him feel more alive. After getting used to the temperature, he lets his head fall back, water hitting his face as he sighs. He didn’t want to look down, but he would have to.
Get it over with, right? He takes some shampoo and works it into his short brown hair. After letting it rinse out, he gets more soap and starts cleaning himself thoroughly. He cringes at the scars littered all across his skin, a thing that he did daily. He hated his scars, hated that his body would permanently be marked by people that had hurt him in the past, along with his own past stupid mistakes. He regretted it. He regretted all of it.
Finally, he finished up, grabbing his towel from the nearby bench and rubbing it over his head to quickly dry his hair. It was still a bit damp when he put his new cloth mask over, but he didn’t exactly have time to pull out a hair dryer and dry his hair fully…
Finishing drying himself, he starts dressing himself, pulling his boxers up along with the cargo pants he had picked out. Typically, he wore jeans, but felt like wearing something a little looser fitting today. He does a small jump to get his pants up to his waist, finishing off by getting his long sleeve shirt on along with his socks and boots. For his towel and dirty clothes, he put them in the hamper by the exit on his way out.
He starts walking down to the cafeteria to get his breakfast, (he would then relocate himself to a different room to eat because he would have to remove the mask) before he was stopped short.
“Ghost.” It was Price.
“Yes, Sir?” Ghost asked firmly.
“Have ya seen Soap around? No one’s seen him this morning. It’s not like him.”
“Ah. I haven’t.” How odd. If this was unusual behavior that he wasn’t up yet… was something wrong?
“It’s prolly nothin’. He’s not that late anyw-”
“I’ll go check.” Ghost says quickly, worry getting the best of him and ignoring the last part of what Price had said.
“If it makes ya feel better.” With that, Ghost hurried to Soap’s room down a different corridor.
Was something wrong? Maybe he had just overslept because he was tired from last night’s mission? Maybe he had gotten injured and told no one? All these thoughts and worries slipped in Ghost’s mind before he stood in front of Soap’s room. It was quiet inside.
“Soap?” He says it loud and firmly, knuckles tapping at the door loud enough to be heard.
“Aye?” Soap’s voice came through quietly on the other side. At least the son of a bitch wasn’t dead…
“You’re late.” Ghost ends up saying, concealing his mild joy at hearing the other’s voice. “Price said-”
“Gimme a few minutes, yeah?”
Ghost rolls his eyes, not feeling exactly in the mood to wait. “Johnny.”
“I’ll be done in a sec.” Now Ghost was slightly curious.
“Soap! Come on!”
“Ghost!”
Ghost tries for the door handle, surprisingly it turns and the door swings open. Soap’s head jerks up to look at him, slightly surprised looking. Ghost was just as surprised.
Soap was sitting on his bed, shirt off, with a needle in his hand.
“Ghost.. I uh-”
Ghost says nothing, only closes the door, processing what he had just seen. Was Soap using… steroids?? Naturally he was disappointed and didn’t know what he would even say if Soap were to bring this up again. Should he tell someone?
He had been standing there waiting, when Soap finally came out.
“Get to your post, Sergeant.” Ghost said coldly.
“What tha fuck?” Soap says quietly to himself as Ghost walks off.
It was just burden after burden. He was fighting within himself. Should he tell someone? He didn’t know if he should. Would it ruin their friendship if he did? No. It was the right thing to do, right? He sat down at the cafeteria, not getting any food, as anxiousness started eating him alive.
If he didn’t tell someone, he could get in just as much trouble for seeing that and not saying something. That’s how that worked? Ghost groaned to himself. It would be a very long day indeed…
…
No. Ghost couldn’t believe it almost. Johnny? Why was it him out of everyone here?
He swings a fist into the punching, training hand to hand and his punches as he thought within himself.
Maybe Soap felt like he needed a boost. He was on the smaller side compared to some of the other guys, but that shouldn’t matter! He was an excellent soldier without it. He could be an excellent soldier without it, so why?
He felt frustrated. Swing after swing, he hit the bag, starting to sweat a little. He didn’t even hear the door open and was only snapped from his thoughts when he felt a small tap on his shoulder. He jumps at the unexpected touch.
“Soap.” He says, expression turning dark upon seeing the Scottish man.
“Hey.” Soap gives an awkward smile. “Can… um. Could we talk?”
“Talk ‘bout what?”
“What you saw.”
“I didn’ see anything.” Ghost turns, looking away slightly, not feeling comfortable with the current eye contact.
“Yes ya did. Don’ lie to me.”
“Like you have a place to talk?” Ghost glares. “I don’t know what I saw.”
“You do.” Soap looks down. “Tell it to me straight. Are you disgusted with me?”
“Disgusted?” That wasn’t exactly a word he would use. “Nah, Johnny. I’m disappointed.”
“Disappointed?” Soap scoffs. “Fuck, ya sound like my old man.”
“Disappointment is valid. Hell, you’re fuckin’ usin’ steroids, Johnny?” John remains quiet. “Why? Is it… is it cuz you’re a bit smaller than most the guys? C’mon, you’re still a great soldier.”
“Oh.” Soap bites at his fingernail. “You thought I… Ghost, I need those.”
“No you d-”
“Listen, ya idiot.” John says sternly, then he pulls up his shirt slightly, absolutely shocking Ghost. “Ya see?”
Ghost saw. Two darker coloured scars lined under Soap’s pecs.
“You’re..”
“Yeah.” Soap drops his shirt, an image that was now burnt into Ghost’s memory. Soap had scars too. Just like him…
“Why didn’ ya tell me? I’d support ya, obviously.”
“‘S for my own safety, Ghost.” Soap crosses his arms. “Ya never know how someone’s gonna react. There’s… dangerous people on the force too. I can't risk somethin’ like that.”
“Does anyone else know?”
“Price. Yeah. Anyone else who’s seen my files as well, they know. ‘S about it.”
It was a small yet important thing about Soap. He had hidden it well for years. Did it change anything? Of course not. Not for Ghost anyway. He somehow only felt a deeper connection this way. One he couldn’t exactly place. Maybe it was that they both had scars from the past, maybe that they had been or were uncomfortable within themselves, he didn’t exactly know… but his love didn’t change.
“This is awkward.” Soap says and Ghost realizes he had been staring for a little too long.
“Sorry.” He says. “I- sorry for.. walkin’ in on ya.”
“It’s no big deal.”
“And, I thank you for sharing that with me.”
“Oh, Simon. C’mon.” Soap laughs lightly. “What’s gone on with you? I told you a secret and you’ve gone all soft on me?” He playfully punches the Lieutenant’s arm. A shiver..
“Nah. I just am tryna be respectful about it. It’s a big thing for you.”
“I spose.” Soap rolls his eyes, looking as if he would like to change the subject now. “So, how’d ya sleep?”
Ghost freezes. He felt almost in a cold sweat at the moment.
“I slept decently, but man that mission did a number on me.” Oh right. The mission, the mission.
“Didn’ sleep all that well.” Ghost says truthfully, face slightly warm.
“I know what can help with that.”
“What?” Thoughts. Do not turn on me now.
“A tea.” With that, Soap started bursting out laughing. Ghost only smiles slightly, eyes glaring.
“Very funny.” He says, shaking his head. “Fuckin’ hell, Johnny.”
“You know ya love me.” So what if I do?
“So what if I do?” Oh shit. I just actually said that. Corny as fuck…
“Well…” Soap just shrugs, seemingly having no extra comeback to this. “I don’t know. Guess we’ll havta find out.”
“Jesus Christ.” Ghost tries seeming uninterested despite the opposite. “Johnny, we’ve got missions all week. Go do some fuckin’ work an stop botherin’ me.”
“Who says talkin’ to you isn’t work?”
“Dickhead.” Soap ends up leaving Ghost back to his lonesome. When he was completely sure he was the only one, he dropped to his knees on the ground. Fuck.
He could not keep this up. No way.
Just the fact that Johnny ended up feeling comfortable enough to tell that to Ghost gave him hope. Maybe Soap liked him back? Maybe not a lot, but slightly right? At the very least a bit. Their banters could not just be a complete friend thing.
~~~~~~~~
When Ghost pulled his mask up, thousands of things weighed on his mind. He was obviously nervous. Nervous of what Soap would say. He had never seen his face before, so naturally showing his face to new people was just a scary thing no matter how long they knew each other.
“Good to see you again, Simon.”
Simon felt naked as he always did with the mask off. His eyes were down, slowly preparing himself for Soap’s reaction. Everyone else had seen except Soap. His eyes go up, meeting the Sergeant’s.
He didn’t know what it was, but Johnny’s eyes looked softer. Almost intrigued or interested. Simon could physically feel his face get warmer. He was blushing. Fuck.
The mask went back on almost as soon as it had come off. Meeting finished, and he started walking back to his room.
“L.T.” He turns.
“Sergeant?”
Soap gives a toothy grin, and Ghost can only prepare himself for what this idiot was about to say.
“You weren’t lyin’, Sir.” With that, Soap just runs off, leaving Ghost in complete shock, along with embarrassment.
He remembered when he had told Soap he was “quite the opposite” of ugly. He had said it mostly as a joke. That cocky bastard…
Ghost was falling in love.