Chapter Text
SOAP POV.
“Aye. I see him, Ghost. Right ahead of ye about 40 meters.”
Soap quietly readjusted his legs slightly, his calves aching from having to sit in the same position for hours on end. At least I’m covered from the rain, poor bastard, he thought as he shifted his scope to a black figure crouched behind a black SUV in the pouring rain.
“All clear, Soap?”
The black figure jerked his head upwards towards Soap’s position on the 4th-floor building, revealing a face with a skull on it.
“Affirmative L.T., this poor bastard is all by his lonesome.”
Ghost crept forward, and about 30 seconds later, Ghost had his hand over the hostile’s mouth with a small knife digging into his now blood-spurting throat.
“Beautiful fuckin’ work as always sir,” Soap said with awe in his tone.
Ghost’s deep voice broke through the comms a few minutes later, “Soap, I got eyes on three hostiles down by the main entrance. You take out the man on the far right, I’ll take the other two. Understood?”
Soap smirked. “Am getting a two-for-one show am I, L.T.?”
Soap could hear the other man huff, then flatly answer, “Keep it tactical, Sergeant.”
He chuckled lightly at the typical response of his lieutenant.
“Aye sir. Let’s get ye outta the rain, don’t want ye getting grumpier than need be.”
Soap didn’t need an answer to know Ghost was most certainly rolling his eyes at him. Ghost’s and Soap’s friendship had been like this ever since Graves had betrayed them a few months ago, and he had been stuck alone in Las Almas. There he had realized that Ghost was more than just his superior, he was a friend. A friend he albeit loved to tease in a not-so-friendly way from time to time. He had always noticed how Ghost would roll his eyes at him or snap him out of his flirty ways, yet never pulled rank or told him to cut it out. More often than not, Ghost would tease him right back in a not-so-friendly manner as well. At least, that’s how Soap interpreted it.
He wasn't sure if he was living in denial or if something else had started to grow between them. Soap was the jokester of the 141, but he definitely didn’t crack some of the jokes with the others as he did with Ghost. Their relationship was different…more personal. They had been through things together that the others didn’t quite understand, and Soap was okay with that. It meant keeping whatever was happening between them as something private.
Ghost called through the comms. “On me, Johnny.”
Soap took a deep breath and fixed his rifle toward the guy on the far right. The rain was coming down hard and he was aching for this to be over so that he could head back to HQ for a mighty big drink and some card games with Gaz. Through the howling rains, Ghost uttered a now, and Soap’s finger squeezed the trigger. He watched the man collapse to his feet at the exact moment as his other two teammates met the unfortunate end of Ghost’s knives.
“Good god Sir, that just about did it for me.”
“That all it takes, MacTavish?”
“You lookin’ to find out, Ghost?”
“Not in the slightest, Johnny.”
Soap was certain he heard something that resembled a chuckle come through the comms.
“That the last of them, sir?”
Ghost answered with an affirmative and asked him to make his way down so that they could wrap this up.
“Ye just wanna see me all wet in the rain ya pervy little - “
“I suggest you rethink if you want to finish that sentence, Sergeant.” Ghost’s deep voice rumbled through the comms.
As always, he liked to push it a tad too far just to see Ghost’s reaction.
“Oh, as if ye won’t be swoonin’ seeing my wet mohawk blazing beautifully in the winds. And my juicy biceps all big, and wet and -”
“Soap, get your ass down here so we can finish this. Some of us have been in the rain for hours and are desperately in need of a cuppa tea.”
As Soap packed up the last of his gear and headed down the stairs, he let out a sigh, and said “Fuckin’ Brits and their teas.” Ghost let out a little huff in response.
Soap met up with Ghost by the entrance to the building. Ghost was holding out a heartbeat sensor and whispered, “We got 5 more inside. Knife at the ready, Johnny.”
He pulled his knife off from the sheath on his chest. Ghost quietly opened the door and entered the building. The first man was in the kitchen to the left and easily taken down from behind by Ghost. After clearing the upstairs area of two more, Ghost jerked his head sideways towards the basement stairs, and Soap nodded in agreement. The last two were downstairs in the basement, presumably guarding exactly what they came here for. Silently they crept downstairs.
It remained incredible to him how smoothly Ghost operated. Despite being a big guy, Ghost walked as if he was as light as air. The way he remained so observant of all his surroundings and knew his way around as if he had been here a thousand times. However, what impressed him the most was Ghost’s way of taking down enemies.
He suspected Ghost may not like the killing itself, but there was no way he wasn’t proud of his ways to kill. Ghost’s face never showed it, but his attitude told Soap he liked to show off. He knew that Ghost took pride in his work, and he damn well should. He had never had a partner like Ghost. Intelligent, observant, and while Ghost may say that he works best on his own, he was a damn good teammate all the same. He trusted his life with his lieutenant and knew Ghost felt the same.
They reached the bottom and Ghost, still holding the heartbeat sensor, gestured towards a door at the end of the hallway to the right.
“On you, Johnny.”
Soap crept forwards and stopped outside the door. He turned his head to Ghost behind him. Ghost nodded, so he opened the door and took a deep breath. In one quick motion, he leapt forward, grabbed a hold of the man on the left and sent his knife deep into the left side of the chest. Soap threw the body to the ground as he sent a hard kick into the stomach of the guy on the right who had barely understood what was going on. The kick sent him flying into the wall, and Soap rushed forward and grabbed him by the shirt.
Soap had a manic smile plastered all over his face as he looked into the man’s eyes, “Time to say goodnight, pal.”
Soap stabbed the man in his throat, and blood automatically splattered onto his face and vest. He lazily threw the man to the floor as he turned around to face Ghost, who stood in the doorway expressionless. Soap’s lips turned into a cheeky smile, clearly wanting to show off in front of his superior.
“Not too bad eh, L.T.?”
He gestured towards the two bodies as if asking Ghost to appreciate the bloody display. Ghost walked past Soap with a blank stare hidden behind the wet skull mask.
“My work was cleaner,” Ghost stated matter-of-factly.
Soap laughed. “Aye, I suppose so. But my way had a bit more…flair to it.”
“If by flair you mean messy, then yes.”
“Haud yer wheesht,” Soap puffed the air out of his lungs.
“Perhaps I’ll have to give you some more lessons in manners…and tactics,” Ghost said with an edge in his voice.
Soap jerked his head sideways towards his lieutenant. “Sounds like a hot date, sir. Count me in.”
Ghost huffed loudly. “It ain’t that easy getting a date with me, Johnny.”
Soap intrigued and amused, turned his body fully towards Ghost.
“Oh? What’s a man gotta do to make that happen then?”
Ghost remained silent. He smiled cheekily, then started scouring the room for the laptop they had been sent in to retrieve.
Finally, after some time, Ghost said confidently, “I doubt you’d ever be able to handle what a date with me entails, Sergeant.”
Soap’s cheeks turned slightly pinkish. This conversation is definitely going in a fun direction, he thought. How far could he push it?
He walked towards Ghost who stood there motionless. He stopped right in front of Ghost, their tactical vests barely touching each other. Soap stared deep into the man behind the skull mask; Ghost’s eyes remained completely still, calm even – focused entirely on Soap’s grey-blue eyes. He had no way of truly reading Ghost’s emotions here, but he didn’t pull away as he touched the top of Ghost’s vest. Soap found that interesting, so he decided to push it a bit further. Just for the fun of it.
His fingers playfully touched the sheath of Ghost’s knife, making sure to lightly brush his fingers against the various pockets stacked with various gear, all the while holding the increasingly intensive eye contact. Ghost’s chest beamed up and down slowly.
Soap’s face changed into a devilish smirk. He leaned further forward, pushing their chests together. Ghost towered over Soap, yet he felt in control here.
“Are ye sure about that…Simon?”
Ghost’s eyes blinked at the sound of his name. Soap tilted his head sideways a bit and admired the skull mask. The balaclava was soaking wet after spending hours in the rain. The white skull mask was glistening from the dim light. A few drops of rain fell onto the top pockets of Ghost’s vest. Neither of them paid it any attention though.
Soap had never seen the face beneath the infamous mask. He had caught glimpses of Ghost’s neck from time to time and seen his chin and part of his lips when Ghost, on rare occasions, ate or drank in the mess hall. Besides that, the man in front of him remained an enigma – a completely enthralling mystery that Soap was desperate to solve.
Ghost eyes broke free of the stare-off as Soap slowly lifted his hand towards the mask to touch it. What he was doing was risky business. He had teased Ghost about his mask in the past sure, but he never thought he would reach to touch it one day. Doing something like this usually resulted in being put in the ground in a split second. But for some reason, he felt compelled to touch it at this moment. To touch Ghost’s face.
Soap could feel his body shaking but kept his hand steady all the same. He wasn’t sure if it was real, but he thought he felt Ghost swaying in his spot. Ghost’s chest continued to rise and fall. Each breath felt like forever. This felt…intimate. Like something unspoken was going on between them. The silence between them grew louder. Just as he was about to touch the bottom of the balaclava, he felt Ghost jerk his hand and tightly twist his wrist. The motion caused him to jerk his body downwards as he yelped in pain. His knees slammed into the floor, immediately soaking in some of the flowing blood from one of his latest victims.
Soap swallowed his tongue as he looked up toward his lieutenant, who continued to hold his hand in a painful position. Ghost’s eyes were glowing behind the soaked balaclava and skull mask. Ghost edged closer as he stared down at his sergeant. He felt a mixture of being absolutely terrified and completely turned on.
What the hell was going on here? Was Ghost feeling the same here or was he just fucking around with him because of the conversation they were having? Watching Ghost like this, Soap could see why The Ghost was such a horror story for their enemies. The way Ghost towered over him, silent and in complete control – not knowing when the final strike would come. He imagined the skull mask being the last thing he ever saw as he bled out. The thought scared him but also made him respect Ghost even more.
Ghost eyes crinkled a tad on the sides, indicating a grin – perhaps a mischievous one at that, Soap thought to himself.
“I’d be more careful about how you address your superior officer, MacTavish.”
Ghost tiled his head sideways, almost as if admiring Soap in this unique position; on his knees, his grown-out mohawk all scruffy from the wind, some blood still splattered on the side of his face and chest. Soaps lips lazily curled into a small smile. He was having difficulties resisting his thoughts at this point. The pain was overpowered by the sight that is Ghost. He was overly aware of how close his mouth was to Ghosts… Get yer head outta the gutter, he reminded himself.
Ghost’s eyes continued to pierce into Soap’s very soul. Ghost raised an eyebrow as he slowly lifted his right hand to Soap’s chin, letting it rest there for a couple of seconds. Ghost's thumb then slightly caressed Soap's chin.
Before he could utter a word, Ghost abruptly let go of Soap’s face and hand as he turned towards the desk on his left. He promptly started to scour its drawers until he found a small laptop. The atmosphere in the room changed in an instant. Soap slowly got up from his knees, still dazed by the situation. He tried to wipe off some of the blood that had seeped into his pants. He was unsuccessful.
Ghost then called into the comms, “We got the laptop. Looking to exfil in 10.”
“Rog, Ghost. We are sending in the chopper,” Captain Prices’ voice ringing through the comms, “See you soon, boys.”
Ghost grabbed the laptop and gestured toward the door. “C’mon, MacTavish. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
The pair sat in silence the entire ride back to HQ. Soap was in all honesty still reeling from what the hell happened back there. It had felt a lot more suggestive than what they normally do for banter. Yes, he would always flirt for fun and try to make Ghost squirm or squeeze some humanity out of him, but it never would get that…filthy. He felt excitement pulse through his body as he stared at his lieutenant sitting across from him. He couldn’t help but notice an excitement pulsing through something else as well. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat causing Ghost to dart his eyes toward him. He just gave a small smile and looked anywhere else than at Ghost. This was new and he wasn’t entirely sure how to handle it.