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Soap was never one to shy away from anything, be it violence or flirtation, or offers of drinks.In his inebriated state, he challenged the tallest guy he could find to a drinking contest - that just turned out to be König , except Soap had never actually seen his face, and wasn't about to give information like that away, so he played along with whatever Soap was planning to do as if he had never met him before. Luckily for him, König could hold his drink pretty well versus Soap, who was a lightweight in comparison.
Ghost noticed him challenge the man from across the bar,while keeping an eye on all of its patrons; since it was an instinct he could never quite turn off the whole way, not while they were still deployed. He drank, sure, but never to the point where his mind started to numb, if that was even possible after his experiences. He saw the ferocity in Mactavish’s eyes, the confidence of his posture as he downed shot after shot without breaking eye contact from the seemingly gentle giant of a man he had challenged. He recognised König’s posture, of course, but said nothing out of respect for the man and his preferred masked life as a part of the group.
After the 6th, Soap started to sway, and Ghost repositioned to a closer booth, not having identified any threats to their safety. After the 8th, Soap coughed and gagged for only a second, holding his fist in front of his mouth. Ghost sighed internally and approached the pair to stop him from going any further.
“Ah, hallo.” König started, raising a hand as opposed to a wave. “I didn't expect him to get this far, he held up pretty well this time round.”
“Right.” Ghost crossed his arms, looking over Soap, who had both of his elbows resting on the table, heels of his palms pressing into his eye sockets to relieve the pressure of an oncoming migraine. “I'll get him home, I think ol’ Johnny here has had his fun, ain’t that right?”
“ Danke ,” König hesitated for a moment, not wanting to indicate that they knew each other at all with a name, opting for a curt nod in its place, “I tried to dissuade him, but he’s very adamant.”
“Yeah, I get what you mean,.” Ghost put one hand on Soap’s back, “Come on, Mactavish. we’ve got places to be tomorrow.”
“I’m fine, Si-” He hiccuped, turning to face Ghost with the most disheveled appearance simon had seen him have since the end of their last stakeout, “I’m just letting loose, you should try it some time, maybe then you’ll take off this little mask of yours,” He reached up and ran a finger along the base of the skull, met with unimpressed eyes and a tensed jaw.
“Alright then, if you’re good to go, lead the way.” Ghost stood back, a smile hidden beneath black fabric as Soap made a show of adjusting his posture from a drunken slouch to a near mockery of a soldier.
Soap mumbled a complaint as he stood up from the stool he’d been sitting on, taking two steps before stumbling. Thankfully Ghost got both of his hands under Soap’s arms, hoisting him up. It took a minute of Soap attempting and failing to regain his balance for more than a few steps before Ghost thought of an alternative method to transport the drunken sod back to their base. He dreaded how annoying Soap would be if he had to drag him out, so after the next time Soap faltered in his balance, he crouched down and scooped Soap up in his arms instead.
“Woah there, are you my valiant knight now? Come to save the pretty princess from the evil dragon?”
“Sure, Mactavish. you’re a very pretty princess.”
The journey back to their barracks was a quick one, the sun had long since set and the cold air had taken over, but it was nothing new. Soap whined initially, but eventually settled in, leaning his head on Ghost’s chest.
“Don’t fall asleep on me, Soap. I'm not tucking you into bed.”
“Yeah sure you won’t.”
They were the first back from the bar, so had the room to themselves for a while. He looked around for where Soap had set himself up, but something in Simon's mind was saddened by the thought of putting Johnny down. Simon looked down, at the drowsy figure in his arms, and swallowed in an attempt to stop his heart rate from fastening, practically dragging his own brain out of its thoughts.
“Simon?”
“Hmm?”
“You know I love you, right?”
The words sat unaccompanied, hanging in the air. It was probably the alcohol, but there was no punchline, no ulterior motive, nothing to gain except for knowing that Simon knew of his feelings. He felt his arms go slack, mind going blank as Soap awkwardly stood from where he was half-dropped to the floor.
“Is anyone home?” Soap knocked on the side of Ghost's head, snapping him out of his trancelike state as he instinctively grabbed Soap's wrist, blinking a few times before realising his mistake and releasing his grip.
“Did you mean that?” Ghost knitted his eyebrows together, mind racing through the early stages of grief simultaneously.
“Hm? Oh. Yeah, I did.”
“But you’ve never seen me without the mask.”
“And? That doesn’t change who you are, Simon. I'm sure you’re a very handsome knight under all that.”
He reached up again, eyes soft with their classic drunken glaze, tracing one finger around the edge of the skull. Soap, rather unabashedly, let his eyes drop from Ghost's eyes to where his lips lie beneath the mask; and in a moment of acceptance, Ghost allowed himself the privilege to do the same. Experimentally, he placed one hand on Soap's waist to pull him closer, heartbeat pounding in his ears.
"You know what they say, Simon, the eyes are the window to the soul. I don't need to see the rest of you to know what kind of man you are." His voice was quiet, the hand that traced around the mask having dropped to the base of where the black fabric covered Ghost's neck.
The words, however cliché, dragged up some emotions that Simon didn't know still existed, ones stemming from the exact reason he wore the mask in the first place, past the superficial reasons he told his superiors. The very reason that König felt comfortable without one and he didn't. He swallowed his discomfort back and focused his eyes back on Johnny. Soap. John motherfucking Mactavish. The same man he had fought alongside, who he trusted with his life, staring at his face with doe eyes and parted lips.
Slowly, carefully, he guided Soap's hand to pull the base of the mask up, revealing partial scars hidden beneath, just enough to reveal skin below his nose. His breathing slowed as he processed the look of joy and adoration that was beaming up at him, from the same man he had never expected to know past plesantries to now. Now, when he wanted nothing more than to kiss him senseless. Admitting that fact alone took longer than cared to say.
“Johnny?"
"Mhm?"
"...Nevermind." Simon thought against reciprocating the sentiment that got them in this situation in the first place, thinking that it would be a better conversation had sober.
That didn't stop him from closing the gap, though.
A startled sound came from Soap, which made Ghost pull back immediately and want nothing more than to disappear.
"Hey, that's not what-" Instead of bickering, Soap decided the better option would just be to kiss him again, on his terms. "Ah you know what, fuck it."
Unlike the films would depict, there were no fireworks or sparklers when their lips met, only soft breaths and fists grabbing at cloth to close the space that remained, as if it would merge their bodies into one.
Still, it was weirdly perfect; and neither of them would change it for the world.