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Gunshots pounded around them as they ducked behind a wall. His head rings at the sound, adrenaline kicking his brain into high gear. The helicopter was supposed to be here soon, it better be there soon or they weren’t making it out of there. Ghost shifts Soap, who is currently leaning against him. The scot groans, his hand pressing against his side in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Someone had snuck up on them earlier, managing to get a shot at Soap before Ghost shot him down. Ghost shoots him a quick glance, concern flashing across his face before they keep going, ducking into a building once they reach a quiet part of the town.
They move in quickly and quietly, Ghost scanning the area as he checks the rooms for any signs of life. Once he’s confirmed they’re alone, he turns back to Soap who’s lowered himself onto a dingy wooden chair. Ghost grabs his comms, quickly checking to see if anyone's nearby. He receives no answer and swears under his breath.
“Fuck,” Ghost grumbles as he turns back around to look at Soap. “No one’s answering. Looks like we’re on our own for a bit.”
Soap groans as he leans back against the chair, wincing at the strain on his side. The bleeding had mostly stopped by now, though he wasn’t in great condition. At this rate, it would probably get infected, due to a lack of medical care. He could feel Ghost’s gaze on him, burning into his skull.
“Let me patch that,” Ghost says suddenly, walking towards Soap.
“We’re in the middle of a battlefield L.T, anyone could walk through that door. We don’t have time to sit and patch wounds,” Soap scowls.
“And it's not doing us any good if you keep bleeding anywhere. I’m not performing surgery, just stitching you up, Ghost responds, stubborn in his reasoning. He now stands in front of Soap, towering over him.
“But-” soap tries to say, quickly being cut off by Ghost.
“Once I get you patched up we’ll head for the rendezvous point, but for now it's better if you aren’t leaving a trail for our enemies to follow,” Ghost says.
Soap relents with a grumble, lifting his hands in surrender. Ghost steps forward, reaching to grab Soap's vest to help him pull it off, Soap wincing as he does so. His shirt is pulled up and off next, leaving Soap exposed to the cool air. Ghost looks down, examining the wound. It's starting to scab, crusted with blood and dirt. He winces as Ghost runs his fingers over it, pressing gently next to the wound. Ghost gazes at the wound, slowly assessing the damages as he uses a rag to clean away some of the blood. He pauses, again running his finger over the wound.
“Simon,” Soap mutters, pulling Ghost out of his trance-like state. “I’ll be fine, just get on with it.”
Ghost nods, rubbing some sterilizer over a small knife. He looks up to Soap for confirmation before gently pressing the knife into his skin. Soap grunts, biting down on his shirt as blood starts pouring out of the wound again. Ghost quickly finds the bullet and pulls it out, immediately applying pressure to the wound.
“There you go, sit nice and still like a good ole boy” Ghost mutters, reaching for bandages and gauze with his free hand.
And if he notices Soap’s face turning bright red he doesn’t say anything.
He bandages Soap’s side up carefully, almost gentle as he washes away as much blood as possible before applying the bandage, wrapping it nice and tight. He pats Soap’s side when he’s done, getting another wince from him. Ghost helps Soap back into his shirt and tactical vest, taking care to avoid damaging his side more.
“Alrighty, let's get moving Johnny.”
Soap grumbles as Ghost pulls him up and out of his set. He stumbles, bumping into Ghost as he regains his balance. Ghost rests a hand on his should, steadying him. Soap mutters out a weak apology before they step apart, grabbing their weapons as they prepare to leave. Ghost decides to try radioing again, and this time gets an answer. After a brief conversation, he turns back to Soap.
“Air support should meet us at the rendezvous point, lets get moving,” Ghost says, turning to the door.
Soap nods, following Ghost as they creep out the door. Carefully they move, keeping watch for people or snipers. They duck behind trashed vehicles and walls as they move slowly, avoiding people as best they can. Throughout their whole walk back they barely encounter anyone, truly a miracle.
They make it to extraction with little problems, only running into a couple of people who Ghost shots down instantly. Soap’s breaths are getting heavier as they walk, obviously feeling the strain of the gunshot. Ghost hauls Soap into the helicopter after him, quickly calling base to tell them to have medical ready when they get back. He can see the glare Soap gives him, obviously not wanting to go to medical. Ghost ignores him, knowing that his half-assed patching job isn’t going to be enough. Soap doesn’t argue, just sighs as he slumps in his seat and rests his head against Ghost’s shoulder. Ghost doesn’t stop him, tensing up at first from the contact, but eventually relaxing. He resists the urge to lean closer, to rest his head on top of Soap’s or rest his arm around Soap’s shoulders. That seems too domestic, too close.
The ride back to base isn’t too long but Soap manages to pass out. His breathing is soft and quiet, a small rise and fall of his chest. His body slumps against Ghost’s, relaxing into his side. Ghost hesitates before he reaches his arm around Soap, placing his arm on Soap’s shoulder. He swears he hears Soap sigh at the movement but doesn’t say anything.
After a quick debrief they’re free to go. The moment they’re out of the office Ghost is gently grabbing Soap’s arm, tugging him down to medical. Soap protests slightly but shuts his mouth after the glare Ghost sends him. He lets himself be dragged, but not without some grumbling.
They walk in, a nurse quickly comes up to help. She helps Soap down onto the bed, instructing him to take his shirt off as she grabs some supplies. Ghost chuckles as he watches Soap struggling, earning a glare from the sergeant.
Ghost watches as the nurse pulls off Soap's shirt, examining the bandages before pulling them off. The nurse examines the rough stitches, frowning slightly.
“Did you do this?” The nurse asks, turning to Ghost. He responds with a nod as the nurse continues, “this isn’t too bad, considering it was done in the field. It will probably get infected though. Did you get the bullet out?”
Ghost responds in the affirmative as the nurse smiles and nods, instructing Soap to lie down as she begins taking out the stitches. Soap lays back and allows her to work, whining and grunting as she undoes all of the Ghost’s work.
“You don’t have to stay L.T., definitely not the first time I’ve gotten stitches,” Soap calls over to Ghost.
“I’m perfectly fine Johnny, got to make sure you get all nice and stitched up,” Ghost replies, smiling to himself as he watches Soap shake his head at him.
“Whatever you say.”
Ghost watches as the nurse works quickly, expert hands stringing the stitches. The nurse finishes up quickly, rebandaging the wound and giving Soap instructions for cleaning and taking care of it. Soap nods along, pretending to listen as he feels his head getting heavier and heavier. He glances up to see Ghost still standing off to the side, watching him carefully. The nurse walks away, leaving them alone.
“Come on, let's get you back to your room,” Ghost says, standing in front of Soap and offering a helping hand. Soap doesn’t complain, taking Ghost's hand and allowing himself to be dragged off the bed.
Soap swings an arm over Ghost’s shoulder as Ghost wraps an arm around Soap’s waist, supporting him as they walk down the hall. They don’t talk, exhausted from the mission and debriefing.
They slowly make their way back to Soap’s room. Ghost opens the door, helping Johnny inside and closing the door behind the both of them. Soap collapses onto his bed, no longer bothering to keep up appearances behind closed doors. Ghost watches as he groans, a weak attempt at kicking off his boats failing. Ghost pulls on his tactical vest, dropping it on the floor next to the bed. He walks around the bed, standing in front of Soap, waiting. When Soap doesn’t say anything, he breaks the silence.
“Sit up,” He commands, watching as Soap disgruntling pushes himself up. Soap’s eyes follow Ghost as he inches forward. He reaches for the hem of Soap’s shirt, tugging at it gently. He’s met with resistance.
“I’m not a child, I can get undressed,” Soap snaps as he struggles to lift the hem of his shirt.
“Johnny, just let me help you,” Ghost signs, a firm hand holding onto Soap’s leg.
Soap stares up at him, looking up at the blue eyes through the baklava. Even though he could only see a little bit of Ghost’s face he could see the concern in his eyes.
“Fine,” Soap grumbles, not missing the quick look of accomplishment in Ghost's eyes. He watches as Ghost gently drops himself onto the floor in front of Soap.
He watches Ghost as he tugs off his gloves, setting them to the side. He looks up at Soap, who gives a nod and reaches to take a hold of Soap's leg, gently beginning to untie his boat. He tugs it off softly, noticing the way that Soap winces slightly. Soap can see the frown in Ghost's eyes as he pulls Soap's sock off, looking at the slightly bruised ankle.
“When’d you get this?” he asks, noting the lack of athletic tape or bandages, clearly not taken care of.
“Ah, it's fine. Got it with the rest of my injuries, it doesn’t hurt that bad,” Soap replies, grimacing as Ghost presses a thumb against the bruise.
“You should get back down to medical, have them look over that and anything else you hid,” Ghost replies, sending a glare up at Soap as he gently massages the ankle.
“It’s late Lt, can we just wait till morning?” Soap groans, a hand rubbing over his face.
“You got any bandages or anything?” Ghosts ask, uncertainty clear in his voice.
“Nope, so unless you’re planning to kiss it better, there's nothing we can do about it,” Soap replies jokingly, carefully watching Ghost's face.
Ghost stares up at him before he slowly pulls up his mask, just so it’s over his nose and lips. Soap watches, awestruck as Ghost leans down and pushes a soft kiss to Soap’s ankle. He glances up at Soap, looking for a sign of confirmation, a sign that it was alright as he tugs at Soap’s other boat, pulling the sock off with it. Soap leans forward, tugging at the top of the mask before Ghost tugs it the rest of the way off, setting it to the side with his gloves. They never break eye contact, even as Soap's hands reach to run through Ghost’s hair.
Strong hands run up Soap’s thighs to rest on his waist, pulling at the waistband slightly as Soap lifts his hips, allowing Ghost to pull his pants off. He watches as Ghost runs his hands over Soap's legs, carefully inspecting for bruises or scraps. He presses his thumb against Soap's knee, placing a soft kiss on the bruises as he notices Soap wince. Rough hands trail over cuts and bruises, kissing old and new, in an act of healing. Soap doesn’t say anything, and lets Ghost pepper him in soft kisses while biting back soft groans. Ghost stops to gently press his tongue against a bruise and Soap doesn't miss the way he smirks as Johnny groans.
Soap stutters out a shaky breath as Ghost reaches his hips, pressing soft kisses on his hips as he pushes Soap’s hips into the bed. A whimper leaves Soap’s mouth before he can stop himself, his face flushing red. Ghost doesn’t say anything and just glances up at Soap, smiling as he kisses again.
The hands trail up to Johnny’s side, gently pulling the shirt up while avoiding the bruised and cracked ribs. Gently it’s pulled over his head, and he’s pushed back against the bed. Ghost hovers over his stomach, placing a soft kiss on the marks as he starts a trail upward. He’s gentle around the bandages, pressing light kisses before moving on. Ghost is on the bed now, kneeling with each leg on either side of Soap. He presses gentle kisses over every scar and bruise, and with each kiss, Soap does start to feel better, feel lighter.
He carefully grabs one of Soap's arms, making eye contact with him as he kisses the bruises and scrapes. Each scar and scrap is peppered with soft kisses as he works up Soap’s arm. He looks up at Soap, making eye contact with the man under him. Soap is red and flushed, embarrassment coating his face. He repeats it with the other arm, finally leaning down to press a kiss onto the scrap on Soap’s cheek before pulling back, admiring the man under him.
“Johnny,” he mutters quietly, a hand gently caressing his cheek.
“Simon,” Soap says, a breathy air to his voice. He doesn’t say anything else, just looks up at his lieutenant, a hand reaching up to pull on Ghost's collar. In a split second lips are pressing against his, chapped lips pressing gently against his own. Ghost’s hands hover over him gently, almost like he’s scared to touch him, scared to injure him. Soap grasped his shirt tightly, kissing him deeper.
Ghost runs his hands along Soap's sides, groaning into Soap’s mouth as he tugs on Ghost's bottom lip. Soap curls his hands into Ghost’s hair, tugging at the blonde strands. Ghost's hands travel up, reaching to cup Soap’s face.
They break away after kissing for what feels like hours, breaths heavy and ragged. Foreheads press against each other as they breathe in each other. Neither says anything as they sit like that, absorbing each other's presence.
“Please,” Soap whispers against Ghost's lips, “Stay here tonight?”
“Wasn’t planning on leaving,” Ghost responds, opening his eyes to look at Soap.
Soap gives him a soft smile as he tugs Ghost back down, connecting their lips in a soft kiss. He can feel Ghost smile against his lips. Ghost tilts his head as he sinks down into the bed next to Johnny, Soap turning onto his side to keep their lips connected. Ghosts' hands brush against his cheeks, gently rubbing small circles into his cheek. They pull back again, Johnny smiling as he presses a kiss against Ghost's cheek before dropping his head to rest against Ghost's chest. Ghost sighs, leaning his head against Soaps as he wraps his arm around the Scots shoulder, pulling him closer. Soap sinks into him, enjoying the warmth. They ignore the sweat and grime sticking to their bodies, still rough after the mission. They sink into each other, enjoying the other's presence. Ghost rubs small circles into Soap’s back until he feels him fall asleep, Soap’s breath growing slow and heavy. Ghost passes out soon after, content knowing that Soap is safe in his arms.
Lights peaking through the blinds wake Soap up in the morning, causing him to stir and push against the body laying next to him. He startles before realizing it's just Ghost and settles back in, curling into Ghost’s body. Ghost shifts, wrapping his arm around Soap's waist. He presses his lips against Soap’s head, pressing a soft kiss into his hair.
Soap sighs, resting his chin on Ghost's shoulder. He opens his eyes, glancing over at the clock on the bedside table. While they technically didn’t need to get up for a while breakfast seemed like a good idea.
“Simon?” Soap mutters, voice muffled.
“Hm?”
“Should probably get up.”
Ghost signs, pulling back from Soap. Soap looks up, admiring the blonde hair and scarred face in the early morning light. Ghost leans down, pressing a chaste kiss to Soap’s lips before he rolls out of bed.
“Simon,” Soap calls as he watches the man walk towards the bathroom. Ghost stops and looks back, waiting for Johnny to talk.
“You’re not going to leave, are you?” he asks hesitantly, watching the man's face. Ghost turns and walks back to the bed, grabbing Soap’s hands and intertwining their fingers.
“I’m not going anywhere Johnny,” Ghost responds, placing a gentle kiss on his knuckles.
Soap smiles as he watches Ghost walk away, sleep calling to him as he lies wrapped in the blanket. And as he falls back asleep, all he can see is the warm smile on Simon’s face.