Chapter Text
“L.t.! C'mon in here, quickly!” Ghost stood up immediately, bolting towards Soap’s bedroom. Something must’ve gone wrong. Did AQ soldiers find them? Or was it the Russians?
“Soap! What’s going on?” Ghost asked, bursting through the door to find Soap standing in the middle of the room with his hands behind his back. He ignored the grin plastered across Soap’s face, pulling out a knife to cut through the bonds that must’ve been keeping Soap’s arms tied behind his back. He moved to walk around Soap, but he turned away from Ghost, as though he didn’t want Ghost to see his hands. “Johnny, what’re you doing? I need to cut through your bonds, hold still–”
“No! Er, no, Sir. Mah hands aren’t bound.” He chuckled, wiggling one of his hands to prove it.
“Alright, good. What’s going on? What happened? Where’s the threat?” Ghost asked, pulling the gun he’d stuffed into his pocket out and clicking the safety off.
“There’s no threat, Ghost. I wanted to surprise ye, since it’s finally here.” Soap chuckled again, both loving that Ghost immediately came to his aid, but hating the fact that his first thought was danger.
“Since what’s finally here?” Ghost asked, the adrenaline fading as suspicion creeped in. Knowing Soap, it probably wasn’t good.
“Yer birthday present, ye dafty!” Soap said, holding out a crudely wrapped rectangular package.
“But…that was over a month and a half ago, Soap. It’s December 17th.”
Soap nodded eagerly. “So? Ye didn’t actually think I wasn’t going to get ye something, did ye? Now take it and stop yer grumblin’.”
Truth be told, Ghost thought the entire day had been Soap’s gift, so to speak. He didn’t realise that Soap had actually meant it to be a celebration. A celebration of him , no less. He sighed, gingerly taking the package out of his hands. The shape reminded him of a C4. “Tell me you didn’t get me an explosive for my birthday, Sergeant.”
“What? Nae! Why would I do that?” Soap asked, feigning offense. “Just open it!”
Ghost sighed again, mentally preparing himself for whatever Soap had in store. He tore it open, and– “MacTavish.”
“Yes, L.t.?”
“I thought I told you not to buy me this Goddamn book.” In his hands was a book, titled Scottish Slang fer Dummies . Soap burst out laughing as Ghost flipped through the pages, each phrase more Scottish than the last. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “God damn it, Johnny.”
A very loud lyric of California Girls made them both jump. “Shit, sorry, that’s mah phone,” Soap said, darting into the bathroom to take the call. “Ah! Ma! ‘Tis good to hear from ye!”
“Ye too, John. Just wanted to check in and remind you that Christmas is at yer’s this year. Yer father an’ I are going ta sleep on yer couch, right?”
All the blood drained from Soap’s face. “Er. Right. I, uh, I forgot we’d planned that. Listen, Ma, I’ve got to, er, go take care of something. I’ll be right back.”
He could hear her raising an eyebrow, but she agreed nonetheless. “A’right, give me a call when ye can so we can figure things out.”
Soap nodded, stumbling over a hurried goodbye, before fumbling back into the bedroom, chest heaving. “L.t., we have a problem.”
Ghost’s hand was immediately back on his gun. “What’s wrong?”
“Mah ma is visiting for Christmas. I, er, haven’t exactly told her about ye.” He mumbled sheepishly, fidgeting with his fingers. “A-an’ she’s probably gonna ask why mah CO is staying with me over leave, an’ she doesn’t really appreciate me bein’ in the military an’ all that, so she wouldn’t exactly like you–”
“Soap,” Ghost cut him off. “Get to the point.”
“She’s…she’s going’ta think yer my boyfriend, Ghost.”
“ What?! ” Ghost exclaimed, looking at Soap incredulously.
Soap rubbed the back of his neck. “I, um, I came out to her and the rest o’ the family a few years ago. They, er, they didn’t take it too well, and we didn’t talk for a bit. A-an’ we just got back on good terms, and she’s been trying to fix things, so she suggested Christmas here, a-an’ she’s been asking me if I’m seeing anybody, an’ if I’d like ta have them over for Christmas, so she’ll think you’re…”
“Your boyfriend.” Ghost finished, sighing.
Soap’s expression fell. “‘M sorry, L.t. I forgot that we’d planned that. I-I’m happy to cancel, I’m sure she’d understand–”
“Johnny.” Soap looked up. “If…if your mum was supportive of me being your…that, would that make you happy?”
Soap bit his lip. “I-it would, but I don’t want ye to be uncomfortable, L.t. I ken ye don’t see me li’ that.” As much as I wished you do, Soap thought, but he kept that part to himself.
“If you’re happy, then I don’t mind,” Ghost firmly, leaving no room for arguing.
“Nae, nae, L.t., it’s fine, y-ye really don’t have to–”
“Johnny.” Ghost cut him off again, stepping forward. He reached forward, as though he was going to cup Soap’s cheek, but awkwardly patted him on the shoulder instead. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.” I want to see you happy .
Johnny met his gaze, eyes filled with worry. “Are ye sure?”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t, Johnny.”
Soap’s heart twisted painfully, and his mouth broke into an almost blinding smile. “Yer the best, L.t.”
Ghost chuckled. “I know, Soap.”
~
“A’right, John, what’s this about?” His dad’s voice rang out through the speaker, and Soap could practically see him crossing his arms, leaning over the phone and squinting suspiciously.
“Listen, er, Ma, Da. Y’know how ye’ve been tellin’ me that I should bring somebody over for Christmas?”
There was an audible gasp, which Soap was sure came from his mum. “Mah boy’s got himself a lass?”
“ Malcolm, he’s also into men, remember? ” Soap’s mum hissed, clearly not intending for him to hear. “Or a lad?”
Soap smiled softly. They weren’t quite there yet, but they were trying. And it meant the world to him. “A lad, Da. ‘M bringing a lad.”
“A lad, aye? An’ wha’s his name?” His dad asked, sounding more curious than disgusted. Progress .
Soap motioned for Ghost, who’d been leaning against the doorframe, listening to the conversation, to come sit down next to him. He leaned towards the phone. “Er, Simon, Sir. My name is Simon.”
There was a bit of a scuffle–Soap guessed his mum had just wrenched the phone away from his dad–and his mum was practically squealing, “Simon! Oh John, he sounds so lovely! That’s such a pretty name! Simon MacTavish, that has a nice ring to it!”
Soap’s ears turned red, and he choked out, “ Ma! We’ve only just–” he looked at Ghost, silently asking for permission. Ghost rolled his eyes, nodding. “We’ve only just started dating!”
His mum laughed. “Oh, alright! I’m getting ahead of myself, I know, but it’s been such a long time since Amelia got married, and ye’d look right bonnie in yer father’s kilt–”
“Isla, give the poor man a break,” his dad laughed. “We’ll see him soon, remember? You can interrogate him an’, er, Simon, when we get there.”
“Right, right! Speaking of, John, Amelia and James are visiting as well, and they’re bringing the kids, and Grace is going to try and make it if she can!” Soap froze. He turned to Ghost, who looked equally as dumbfounded.
“Amelia and Grace ar’ comin’ as well?”
“Mhm! We’ve all missed ye so much, John, we couldn’t give up an opportunity to spend Christmas with ye, since ye normally spend it wit’ yer military lads.” She sounded delighted, and Soap’s heart twisted painfully. He loved his family, and he missed them, missed spending holidays together, especially Christmas. But he didn’t want to overwhelm Ghost.
“Er, Ma, about that–”
“I’d love to meet John’s family, Ma’am.” Ghost cut in. Soap looked at him incredulously, but Ghost shushed him, giving his mum a chance to respond.
“Oh, John, he’s perfect! Of course you can meet our family, Simon, I’m sure John’s sisters would love to meet ye!” His mum squealed, and there was a muffled agreement from his dad, who Soap was sure was being strangled in a hug as they spoke.
“A-aye,” Soap mumbled. “Well, er, Ma, S-Simon and I should go prepare. It’s been lovely hearin’ from ye, an’ we’ll see ye soon. Much love.”
“Aye, alright,” his mum replied. “It was amazin’ to meet ye, Simon. ‘M looking forward to Christmas, an’ I’ll let the girls know ye said yes. Sending our love, John.” She hung up, and Soap whipped towards Ghost.
“Ghost, what the Hell was that?!” Soap asked, eyes wide with concern. “Ye–ye didn’t have to do that! I-I know yer no’ the best wit’ new people, a-an’ my parents ar’ already hard enough, ye really didn’t have–”
“Johnny,” Ghost cut off his awkward ramblings. “I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to.”
“Ye…wanted to?” Soap looked up from where he’d been burying his face in his hands, looking at Ghost incredulously.
Ghost nodded. “I saw the way your eyes lit up when you realized it was your mum, Soap. I saw how excited you looked when your mum mentioned that your sisters would be visiting as well.”
“But…L.t., tha’s no reason to put yerself in a situation that’d just stress ye out,” Soap said, eyes still filled with concern.
“I trust you, Johnny. If you say they’re good people, then I believe you.” Ghost said simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Soap’s eyes shone with adoration, and he had to resist the urge to crush Ghost in a hug. Instead, he opted for clapping him on the shoulder, with a smile that made Ghost’s heart throb. “I know I already said it, but…ye really ar’ the best, L.t.”
The corners of Ghost’s mouth quirked. “No need to flatter me, Johnny.” I’d do anything to make you happy. He didn’t voice the second half.
~
“Ar’ ye sure it’s enough?” Soap asked, fidgeting with his fingers as he stared at the small, potted Christmas tree that sat in front of them. Being so close to Christmas, there were barely any trees left when he and Ghost had driven out to buy one earlier. This was the biggest one, and it came up to Soap’s shoulder.
“I’m sure, Johnny. I know your parents will understand.” Ghost replied, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
“Right, right,” Soap took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. “Amelia said she’d bring up some ornaments, so I’m sure the lads ar’ going’ta decorate it.”
Ghost nodded. “And we’ve ordered the presents, which should all be here in a few days.”
Soap nodded, giving Ghost a quick smile, before it was replaced with a bitten lip again. “Right, so now we just need to make the mashed potatoes,” he mumbled, and the fidgeting came back in full force.
“Soap.” Ghost stepped in front of him, reaching for his hands but awkwardly opting for his shoulders instead, giving them another reassuring squeeze. “It’s going to be
fine.
We’ve found a recipe, and Christmas is still in two days, remember?”
“But–what if–”
“Jesus Christ, Johnny, relax. Don’t make me pull rank.” Ghost joked, but his hands didn’t leave his shoulders.
Soap pouted. “Now tha’s just plain mean, L.t.”
Ghost chuckled. “Alright, you asked for it. Sergeant MacTavish, as your liuetenant, I am ordering you to relax. ”
Soap pushed him away, laughing. “Fucking arsehole.”
“ John! Language!” They whipped around, and a windblown Mr and Mrs. MacTavish were standing in the doorway. Mrs. MacTavish had her hands on her hip.
“Ma!” Soap rushed forward, tackling his mother in a hug. He did the same to his father, before pulling them over to Ghost. “Ma, Da, this is–”
“Simon. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Ghost held out his hand.
“Och, no need for that, lad! Come here!” Mrs. MacTavish pulled Ghost into a hug, who let out a grunt before awkwardly patting her on the back.
“Ma, maybe–maybe wait until you’ve gotten to know each other a bit more?” He shot a concerned glance towards Ghost, whose fists were clenched, his jaw set. “Er, Simon isn’t…the best, with physical contact.”
Mrs. MacTavish’s eyes widened, and she turned back to Ghost, shaking his hand. “Oh, Simon, ‘m so sorry, I got ahead of myself. I’ll keep my hands to myself, I promise.”
Ghost’s shoulders relaxed, slightly. “Right. Er, no worries, Ma’am. You didn’t know.”
Mr. MacTavish stepped forward, shaking Ghost’s hand as well. “You must be Simon. I’m Malcolm, John’s father.” Ghost shook his hand, nodding politely.
“Christ, I forgot how formal ye are, Da!” Another Scottish accent, belonging to a woman, was heard from the doorway. They turned, and a young woman was standing there, who looked like a female, miniature version of Soap. “I’m Grace, by the way. John’s younger sister.”
Ghost nodded. “Simon. It’s a pleasure.”
Grace unceremoniously dropped her bags into her brother’s arms. “Go on then, be a good host,” she said, snickering. Soap opened his mouth to bite back, but their mother shot them a warning glance, and he closed it, glaring at his sister before stalking into the living room, dropping her things there.
“Aye, we all arrived at the same time, then?” A third voice, a woman’s, still Scottish. “Right, ye must be Simon. I’m Amelia, John’s older sister. This is my husband, James.”
James stepped forward, nodding at Ghost. “It’s a pleasure.”
“And these are our children, Soap’s niece and nephew, Harper and Blake.” Harper grinned–one of her front teeth was missing–waving at Ghost. Blake nodded, hiding behind his father’s leg.
Ghost smiled, looking slightly on edge but otherwise alright. “It’s lovely to meet you all.”
“You as well, Simon. We’re glad John finally found somebody.” Mr. MacTavish replied, smiling.
“Even if he is English.” Grace added, making Soap laugh and Ghost roll his eyes.
“Christ, not you too. I already get enough of it from Johnny.” Ghost muttered, and the room fell silent. Soap went bright red.
A smile spread across Mrs. MacTavish’s lips. “
He calls you Johnny?!
”