Chapter Text
It’s been technically a day since they’ve let Hassan go, currently with no orders from Laswell. As Price, Gaz and her are off getting ghillied up in Spain, the rest are left to sit patiently in Los Vaqueros' base.
Deciding he’d rather stick with the boys in Mexico rather than travelling past the border to sleep alongside his shadow brethren, Graves is there too lounging next to the English speaking folk.
Ghost was sharpening his very many collection of murdering knives and Soap was irresponsibly chugging down scotch.
“Soap, how are you holding up buddy?” Graves begins conversation.To be fair, barely anyone inside the base could speak English. Ghost seemed to be more of the stoic quiet type so drunk Soap was obviously the best person to talk to.
Soap puts down his glass and pardons his own burp before replying.
“God, we should’ve just kept Hassan in custody. All of that hard work gone to nothin’.” Soap groaned, face hot from either the orange light shining on his face or the beverage he was downing.
“Mexico isn’t at war with Iran, Laswell’s right, he is too hot to handle.” Ghost answers his drunken team mate. Soap takes a moment to register the words before letting loose another groan and leans his head on the table in front of him annoyedly.
“Yer too hot to handle.” He huffs out back as if it was an insulting comeback.
It did come back to Ghost, but probably not how Johnny wanted. Ghost stops dragging his dagger across the sharpening block momentarily, but continues again once his face starts cooling down a bit.
“Choose your words more precisely, Sargent.” Soap still doesn’t seem to realise his accidental flirting and moves on.
“Still on with the Hassan thing huh.” Graves chuckles.
As Soap lays his head down onto the cool wood of one of Los Vaqueros’ tables, he spots a few grenades on a tac vest somewhere and his mind begins wandering to places.
“Thinkin’ bout Hassan, You both were part o’ the mission where ye blew General Ghorbani to bits and shreds yeah?”
“Sure was.” Graves replies
“Mhm.” Ghost follows.
“Say, did ye’ lot use the same missiles we found back in Al Mazarah? Or were they different?” Graves freezes for a second whilst looking at the back of Soap’s head on the table. Ghost looks up at the commander, raising an eyebrow at his reaction. It was like he could sense his heart rate rising just a little bit.
“I don’t have the answers to that. Ask Graves, he was the one who operated the missile.” He cautiously puts down the sharpening block and pulls a cloth to start polishing. Soap then switches from looking up at Ghost to Graves. The man fidgets with his fingers and looks up at the rafters in the building, biting his lip while swaying slightly.
“Well.” Graves smacks his lips and inhales out of his nose. “Laswell or Sherpard hasn’t disclosed any information on the missile and what type it is to me. So, sorry pal. No clue.”
Soap seemed satisfied with that answer and nodded.
“Ye did ah sick job out there covering us up in the air. ahm a demolition expert by the way.”
The fidgeting and distracting suddenly flew into thin air for Graves. His eyebrows raise with interest down at the little Scottish man still on the table and he smiles.
“Really?”
“Not jokin’” Soap raises his head off the cool table and relishes in the cool air instead. He looks over at Ghost and grins. “Ain't that right LT? Back me up mate.” The masked man sighs and goes along with his subordinate’s request.
“He isn’t lyin’.” Grave’s arms leave the table as he nods at one of his teammate's impressiveness.
“You learn something new everyday.”
Soap looks at Ghost but he seems too preoccupied wiping off every particle of blood off his blade. Guess he’ll settle to talk with Graves a bit more.
“Bout’ you Graves. Are ye ah demolition expert as well?” Soap remembers clearly when they were requesting back up. Shadow company was right and ready, each and every missile shot benefited their side of the battle in some way.
Graves waves his suggestion off and takes it as flattery.
“Wouldn’t say I am an expert, I just know my shit.”
“Humble are ye?”
“You’re a sweet one. But no Soap, I’m just telling my truth.”
“Bullshit.”
Graves sniggers. He’s a man who has respect for his juniors for disrespecting him. He likes that about people. People who are blindly obedient piss him off.
However, Ghost liked things in order and his subordinates obedient. Maybe that’s why Graves and Soap would make a better pair.
“Ah saw those tactical shots. Liar.” Rolling his eyes. Graves likes that.
“What got you into blowing shit up professionally?”
Johnny pauses for a moment.
“Ah would say it came to me at a young age. My mum would tell me stories afta stories about her beating my arse for my destructive behaviour.”
In all honesty, Ghost has never met Johnny’s mother ever, nor heard her stories. But he could absolutely agree. Johnny’s method on the field gave him mini heart attacks by how risky they were, but in the end would always work out.
Graves seemed amused by the response.
“She seems like a violent woman herself.”
“Nah, She’s very merciful actually. Catholic.”
“My family believes in Jesus and they shoot at anything they see is a threat.”
“Maybe that’s an American thing.”
“Obviously, your britt families legally can’t own arms.”
Johnny laughs and Ghost watches from afar. If he was funnier maybe he could see Johnny laugh more, but unfortunately Ghost and his jokes were dry and unfunny. Suppose that’s what makes them funny at the end of the day.
“What’s it like to ave’ ah family who can bare arms then?”
“Pretty fucking scary, more so when I wasyounger through, especially since I’m a queer man and they’re republican.”
Suddenly, both parties could only hear the back chatter of Vaqueros.
“Yer Gay?”
“Got a problem?”
Did Soap have a problem? That’s what Ghost wanted to know, alongside Graves.
“Nah, ah get you. ahm one of them too.”
Ghost stopped wiping the blade in his cloth. Ghost has been working with Johnny way longer than Graves has, and he’s just figuring this out now? He doesn’t know right now whether to feel ashamed or excited. Ashamed Johnny didn’t tell him this earlier or excited that maybe Johnny might.
Forget it, it’s impossible. Looking at them now Johnny seemed to enjoy talking to Graves. Ghost considered himself too quiet and private to talk as freely as they do. Plus, he didn’t like the image of himself fangirling over his subordinate’s sexuality. Maybe he should feel ashamed.
He puts the knife down and grabs another to polish. Being distracted helps him cope with the weird feeling he’s discovered in his chest whenever he sees the two men talk.
“Wow, Pretty rare to find another homo around this line of work.” Genuinely, Graves was pleasantly surprised.
“Gay men Solidarity.” Soap laughs. Inviting Graves to dap him up by lifting his palm into the air. Their hands collided with a big slap and a pat on the back to follow once Graves took the invite.
Ghost’s knife began wiping on the cloth as if he were using the cloth to sharpen it. His movements were more agitated as much as he didn’t want to show it. Unfortunately, a certain commander caught him displaying his slight annoyance.
“Ghost you alright pal?”
Staying silent. The only solution he could think of at the moment was one he always liked when it came to social interaction. Running away.
“I’m fine. I’ll be heading off to bed now.” They haven’t slept since the mission, it was a totally fair decision to make.
Soap looks over his own shoulder and frowns a bit before ultimately letting Ghost go.
“Alright then, have a good rest LT!” The way his cheeks lifted as he grinned at him made his knees go weak. It’s so confusing, he doesn’t know whether he likes Soap doing that to him or not.
“Thanks Johnny.” He musters up saying, before making it to the doorway and closing it behind him.
After spending a good minute watching the closed door, Graves pipes up.
“Is he homophobic?”
Soap looks at him bewilderedly, like the random suggestion he made was a stupid one.
“Nah, he’s not the type.” He huffs back.