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Chapter Text

"Soap! How copy?" 

"In a bit of a bind, L.T." Johnny grimaced as he attempted to shove the crumbled concrete off of his trapped hand. It scraped painfully against his skin as it shifted before settling heavily where it was originally. 

"Gimme a sitrep." Ghost growled, Soap let his head fall back against the debris, sighing heavily. 

"Bastards lobbed a semtex at me, thought I cleared the blast ducking behind a wall but these buildings are crumbling shite. Swear it was held together with wishes and fairy dust. I'm stuck, got about 50 kilos o' concrete pinning me hand down." He tried to pull his arm free once more, wincing at the sharp pain. He couldn't get the leverage to lift it off and sliding the mass in any direction felt like it was grinding his bones to dust. He was well and truly trapped. 

"Location, Johnny." Ghost urged him and Soap craned his neck to look for landmarks. 

"Approximately 100 meters from where ye last confirmed eyes on me, red brick building to my right, some type of flag on top, and a blown out frame to my left." 

After a pause where Soap assumed Ghost was scanning for the landmarks he spoke again. "I can see part of the wall you're under. Will take me a minute to clear a path, got tangos on both sides. Still have your weapon?" 

Johnny sighed again, tears of frustration and, dare he admit it, fear were prickling at his eyes. Thundering blasts of gunfire were all around him, he'd been lucky thus far to be undiscovered by someone willing to finish the job. "Nae, Sir. Lost it in the blast. I can't reach anythin' with my free hand. I'm dead, Ghost." If he survived he swore he'd never admit the way his voice cracked on a sob speaking his lieutenant's name. 

"Not if I have anything to say about it. Play dead, Johnny." 

Soap laughed, a hanged man's guffaw, "Won't be playin' in a minute here, L.T." 

"I'm serious, Johnny. Play dead. Cover your head and chest if ya can, if you're bleeding spread it around a little. Make it look like they got ya and they won't stop to find out." Ghost's voice shook as he spoke, as if he was running at a dead sprint. He may have been. 

Johnny nodded, not considering that Ghost couldn't see him. He yanked at a bundle of what may have been an awning at one point, covering part of his chest to obscure his breathing. With a whimper he swiped a filthy hand through the blood dripping steadily beneath his trapped arm and did his best to smear it all over his face until the tacky fluid started to drip down his neck. Just in time he dropped his head as a group of insurgents rounded the corner to his right. 

One of the men kicked at Soap's ankle savagely and he bit through his tongue until copper flooded his mouth to stifle his pained reaction. The man muttered something and they moved on, leaving Johnny's not-corpse alone. He didn't dare move, letting the blood trickle from his damaged tongue to add to his facade as another set of footsteps approached. 

Relief started flooding his adrenaline poisoned veins as the newcomer spoke. "I got ya, Johnny. Hold on." Ghost grunted as he dropped to his knees, head on a swivel as he started to feel out the rough edges of the concrete imprisoning Soap's hand. He found a solid grip and pulled, the concrete shifting off of the mangled, bloody mess of his right forearm and hand. Johnny couldn't stifle the agonized scream as his adrenaline burned off and pain flooded his senses. 

Ghost's filthy gloved hand slammed down on his jaw and he couldn't help but make an affronted whimper. He felt like a child, scolded, hurt, and scared. 

"I know, lad," Ghost's voice was gentle and Soap stared at him through his swimming vision. "They only just moved on, can't have them come back." Johnny nodded best he could with the hand clamped around his mouth and Ghost slid his other hand up to gently run over the top of his hair. "Good lad, breathe best you can. Gonna TQ then wrap you up. Exfil's coming." 

He released Soap's mouth and he took a shuddering breath. He let his head fall back once more against the rubble as the rough material of the tourniquet wrapped around his bicep. 

"Deep breath, Johnny." He tried his best, wincing as the strap tightened tortuously. Ghost worked quickly and Johnny tried to fight the fuzziness invading his head, knowing it was nothing good. 

"Exfil arrived." Nik's thick accent sounded much funnier to Johnny than it ever had before and he snickered. Ghost shot him a look that read more concerned than annoyed. 

"We need immediate evac, Soap's down. Alive and A&O but not for long unless we get gone now." Johnny scoffed at Ghost's serious tone before devolving into another fit of giggles. "Lasso going up, we can't wait for landing. Price, send down a stretcher. Drop low as you can." 

"Affirmative, Lieutenant. Eyes on your lasso." 

"He's in one piece, Ghost?" Price's voice barely cut through the fuzz in Soap's head. 

"Chewed up and spit out but far as I can tell he's solid. Broken bones confirmed, compound fractures of both radius and ulnar right side. He's gonna be down a while." 

"As long as he's alive." 

"He's gonna stay that way too. I'm riding up with him, we don't have a lot of time. Get a stim on hand, he's starting to go under." 

Soap just stared at Ghost, half of the words he heard not making sense and the other half sounding muffled as if his head was dunked in a bucket. 

Speaking of buckets, a bucket thing was dropping from the sky. Human bucket. Johnny giggled again, eyes heavy. The thing hit the ground with a plastic thunk and Soap groaned as Ghost lifted him onto it. The pain had faded, he felt warm and sleepy. Ghost followed, crawling over Johnny's legs and settling there with his hands wrapped around the handles on the sides of their ride. He giggled again, mumbling something about cowboys and leaning back to close his eyes. The darkness enveloped him like a warm blanket and he settled into it gratefully until a rough hand slapped at his face. 

"You're in shock, Sergeant. Stay awake for me." 

"Tryin' my best," he groused. Forcing his eyes open to stare heavily at the skull mask hovering over him. 

Ghost's eyes crinkled. "That's my boy." 

Johnny woke up three days later with no memory of his injuries nor the decade's worth of aging he put both his captain and his lieutenant through. He came to in a solid white room, sitting up in an uncomfortable position with one arm pierced repeatedly with IV's and the other suspended in a sling level with his head. Ghost and Price were playing a game of cards at the table to his left. He groaned, catching both of their attentions. 

"At least tell me I dinnae fuck anything up." 

Price chuckled, relieved. "Fortunately this one wasn't on you, son." He stood with a groan, coming up on Soap's uninjured side. He held up a hand and ticked off a list, "Double compound fractures, crush injury to your hand, more lesions than they could count. One very tense procedure to set the bones while you were awake, I think the nurses learned about six new ways to tell someone to fuck off from ya, and two surgeries to fix the damage. You'll be good as new but not for a while." Soap flexed his fingers the best he could, feeling the soul-deep ache from his fingertips up his shoulder. Once the drugs wore off he knew he would be in a hell of a lot of pain. 

Ghost approached and offered him a cup of water with a straw, holding it steady as Soap drank his fill. "What do you remember?" 

Johnny screwed up his face, thinking. "Ah, gettin' crushed by the damn wall, playin' dead like a well trained mutt," Ghost laughed at that and Soap celebrated privately. "Bitin' my tongue real fucken hard, then ye found me. A lot's fuzzy after that." He chuckled, rolling his head back onto the number of pillows at his back. "For some reason I remember sayin' something about 'save a horse, ride a cowboy.' But dinnae ken where ta fuck that came from." 

Ghost nearly dropped the cup as he went to set it back on the bedside table, eyes uncharacteristically wide underneath his balaclava. "That's what you said, MacTavish?" Price smothered a chuckle behind his hand. 

"What?" Between Ghost's mortified eyes and Price's quick devolution into laughter he knew he'd said something stupid while in shock. 

"Ghost," Price started before losing himself again. "Had to kneel over you on the stretcher so we could lift you both up at once." He wheezed, doubling over with his hands on his knees. "He said you said something about cowboys when he climbed on." 

Soap's face flushed hot and he couldn't look at Ghost. Sure they had their little flirtatious back and forth but this was far and beyond anything close to banter. "Wish I was still in shock," he grumbled. From the corner of his eye he watched as Ghost reached out and patted his shoulder intentionally awkwardly, causing both men to chuckle at his expense. If Ghost was laughing about it then Johnny couldn't help but grin. At least he could blame the blood loss. 

Soap moved to scratch at the coarse uncomfortable edge of his cast but his hand was stopped halfway by the number of wires and tubes connected to his arm. He grumbled and dropped his head back again. 

"Any idea of when I can get ta fuck outta here?" 

Price hummed, "Now that you're awake longer than a minute at a time, I imagine probably tomorrow. But you know what happens next, son." 

Johnny grumbled, rolling his eyes before training them on Ghost. He knew it was fruitless but maybe, just this once, the lieutenant could plead his case for returning to duty one-armed while he healed. He pulled on his best pout, pleading eyes and all, and the man huffed a laugh. 

Looking much more fond than Ghost had any right to, he nudged his face gently with a loose fist. "Quit." He quit, smiling smarmily up at him. 

Ghost's eyes crinkled slightly and he looked back to Price, Soap followed his lead. 

"Two options, son. Medical leave is mandatory but you can either go home or stay on base. If you stay I can put you on light duty in a week and ya can work with ops." Soap lightened up immediately, his choice obvious. While going home sounded nice Johnny couldn't stand the thought of the smothering he was sure to receive from his mother. He didn't really care to hear why this injury should inspire him to leave the service and do something normal. He wasn't normal, he didn't want to be normal. A week on leave followed by a month or two of desk work was preferable to going completely dark for months back home. 

"Ah, would rather stay on base. Easier for PT and can stay in the know." And stay close to Ghost. He cringed at his own thoughts. 

Price clapped a hand on his knee, "Good lad." Something niggled at the back of Johnny's mind at the phrase but he couldn't place it. "Will have it arranged." He nodded to Soap and Ghost before stepping out into the hallway, phone in hand. 

"Gonna take care of yourself, Johnny?" Ghost leant back against the wall, he imagined an eyebrow raised behind the black fabric of his mask. 

"Unless yer willing to take on the job, Sir," he teased and Ghost scoffed. 

He reached out to tap the back of Johnny's trapped hand lightly, "Might have to." With that confusing and mildly alarming statement he turned and left the room. 

Chapter Text

"Johnny," 

"No." 

He heard a metallic clink and counted the seconds until the door opened and closed behind the intruder. Three seconds. Ghost was getting faster at picking locks. 

"Fuck ta fuck off, Ghost. Door was locked." 

"I have more chest candy than I have room on my full dress. Ya think a block of wood with a lock on it would really stop me?" 

"No, but a normal person would take it as a sign that I dinnae want to be disturbed." Ghost just stared at him. He sighed and dropped his head back on the pillows in resignation. "Aye, right. Yer far from a normal person, forgive me." 

"You're forgiven." 

Soap pulled a pillow over his face and screamed into it. Pulling it away only to snark, "Fuck off." He dropped it back onto his face and willed the Brit to disappear. 

Instead Ghost wrapped his hands around Soap's ankles and yanked, pulling him to the edge of his bed. Johnny squealed. 

"You are a menace, Ghost." 

"Quit bein' an infant, Sergeant." 

Soap crossed his arms and pouted, like a toddler. "Am no." 

He imagined Ghost quirking a hidden eyebrow again. "What happened to taking care of yourself?" 

"I am," Soap insisted, sitting up finally. "I've got the squishy ball and I squeeze it all damn day like they told me to. I keep it elevated and I don't let it get dirty. I'm taking care of it." 

Ghost scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're taking care of your injury just fine, Soap. You're not taking care of yourself." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

The Brit sighed, dropping his shoulders and looking down at Johnny. "When was the last time you actually showered, ya manky mutt?" He held up a hand, stopping Soap's protest. "A whore's bath doesn't count." 

He opened his mouth to argue but Ghost was right. He dropped his shoulders and grumbled, "Can't get the seal on those plastic things high enough and tight enough, keeps gettin' wet." He raised his injured arm so Ghost could see the dingy looking, warbled plaster at the top of his cast. 

Ghost hummed, picking up one of the plastic sleeves he'd been given to protect his cast. He gestured to him with it, offering. Soap muttered a curse under his breath before holding arm up like a petulant child. Ghost bunched up the plastic like he'd seen women do with nylons, carefully holding the seal at the top open until his cast was fully covered and the rubber sat taut against his upper bicep. Ghost slid a finger into it to test the tightness and released it with a snap. Soap gnashed at him with his teeth, only partially playful. 

"Go shower, you smell like swine at an orgy." 

Johnny groaned, "Lovely image, Ghost, truly." 

He stood, shuffling over to his footlocker and collecting a clean pair of clothes before moving to his ensuite bathroom. Ghost moved to sit at his desk, toying with the mess scattered on the surface. Soap knew he’d mention the accumulation of takeaway rubbish but he hoped that at least it wouldn’t become an actual thing since he was on medical leave. 

“Don’t forget to wash behind your ears, Johnny,” Ghost tossed over his shoulder, swiveling around on the chair. 

“Get out of my room.” 

As Johnny closed the door he heard a quiet chuckle and a “No.” He rolled his eyes fondly. 

Getting stripped down and into the shower was much easier when Soap wasn’t wrestling with the glorified shopping bag wrapped around his arm. He sighed as the hot water started beating away the ache in his bones. He hadn’t meant to hide away in his room during his leave nor become the type of hermit he scoffed at. Leave it to Ghost to find him and pull him out of the pit he’d somehow burrowed himself into. 

The water felt amazing on his skin and he found himself sinking deeper into the sensation than he intended. Fingers sliding smoothly along his stomach and hips before he gripped his cock loosely. Soap didn’t really intend to have a wank with his superior in the next room but his own hand had caught his cock’s attention and started to fill out. He hadn’t had a date with himself since his injury and the fire in his veins ignited with an urgency at the first slow stroke of his hand. The angle was wrong and his left hand felt like a stranger’s, unable to rely on muscle memory of the friction he liked, the strength of his grip. Johnny gave up quickly, it would take over an hour to bring himself off like this and Ghost was sure to notice that absence. 

“Fucken hell,” this was going to add another layer of annoyance to his decrepit state. He turned the temperature as cold as he could stand it and grimaced as his hard-on deflated. A new tension in his shoulders grew sharply. 

He dressed quickly, scrubbing the towel through his mohawk. He yanked at the edges in annoyance, it was too long for his preference and it would only get longer until he could get his hands on a pair of clippers. 

Johnny stepped out of the bathroom, launching his bundle of dirty clothes towards the hamper in the corner. Ghost swiveled around to look at him. 

"When's the last time you left your room, huh?" Ghost tossed a balled up takeaway wrapper towards his wastebin, sinking it easily. 

"Probably Tuesday?" The day he returned from the hospital he made a straight cut for his quarters, crawling into bed to fight off the sharp pain he knew was coming once the hospital grade drugs had run their course. It had hit him hard the first few days, the pills he was sent home with barely touching the pain. It didn't hurt most of the time now, manageable when it did ache. 

Ghost glared at him, but there was no true anger in his eyes. "It's Sunday." He stood, crossing his arms. 

"I'm on medical leave, I'm allowed to stay here the whole time if I'd like." Soap flicked a stray napkin at him, chuckling as Ghost swiped at it while it fluttered to the floor undisturbed. 

"Gaz has better things to do than bring you takeaway three times a day." 

Johnny shrugged, "He owes me for when he broke his leg in London." 

"We have plenty of alright food here, why don't you just come with me to the mess?" Ghost's eyes were open and earnest, it felt more like an invitation for company than any real need for a meal. 

"Don't tell me ye miss me?" Ghost squinted at him, shuffling where he stood and Johnny saw his opening for a jab. "Ye do miss me! I fucken knew that all that gripin' was a farce, you like having me around." 

"Shuddap," it was Ghost's turn to groan and it made Johnny chuckle. "Ya gonna join me for lunch?" 

Soap grinned, "Aye, since ye asked so nicely." He slipped on his trainers and followed Ghost out the door. 

He tried to pull himself off in the shower twice, mission failed. Once more in bed with a certain website pulled up in the private browser of his phone, unsuccessful. Soap had resorted to lying on his stomach, grinding his hips half-heartedly against his mattress. The friction of his sweats was too much and not enough. It hurt too much to feel truly good but it felt nice enough he couldn't stop the slow grind of his hips. 

A knock on his door broke his concentration. He ignored it. 

"You 'right, Johnny?" 

Soap thumped his head heavily on the pillows. That was the closest he'd gotten to actually getting off since he got injured and the release that was in his grasp moment's ago fled again. 

"Are you hurt?" 

"Nae." 

"Dizzy?" 

"Nae." 

The familiar, soft metallic clink of his door's lock sounded out and Soap counted three seconds before the door opened and closed behind Ghost. 

"Then why the fuck are ya wigglin' around over here. Your frame is bumping against the wall right over my head." 

Fuck. Johnny hadn't thought about that, so desperate for a moment of relief he hadn't noticed the noise or movement. 

Discovery hadn't done anything to kill his obnoxious arousal, it probably made him harder. He doubted anything short of death and dismemberment could have waned the constantly building need in his blood. 

"M'sorry. Didn't mean to disturb ye, I'll stop." 

"The fuck were ya doin' anyway?" 

There was no blood left in his brain, the words were out before he could filter them. "I cannae get off," he grumbled into his pillow, the words sounding more like an angry groan than an actual statement. 

"What?" 

Soap sighed, turning his head and bracing for the taunts. "I cannae get off. Can't wank. Can't cum. I 'ave a perpetual rager since yesterday and cannae do a thing to fix it." 

There was a pause and Johnny expected to hear the quiet click of his door as Ghost noped the fuck out of his quarters but instead he felt the bed dip next to him. "Can't cum or just can't do it yourself?" 

This was dangerous. There was absolutely not enough blood in Soap's brain for him to care. "Cannae do it myself. Humpin' the bed like a dog was the closest I got. If I could do it right I'd be off like a flashbang in minutes." He sighed, flipping onto his back. He didn't care if Ghost saw it at this point, he just wanted his painful erection gone. "Since yer here if ye could help me wrap my arm, I'm gonna take a cold shower." 

Ghost chuckled, surprised, Soap didn't dare look at him. "Thought you were gonna ask me to give ya a hand." 

"Oh steamin' Jesus L.T. no, would never try to ask that from you." His face flushed hot. Great. All the blood that wasn't in his cock was now in his face. His brain was working on backup power. 

"Would you take it if offered?" Soap was getting dizzy. He didn't have much more blood left and the way it was rushing between his blush and his cock was going to knock him out. 

"Depends on who's offering," he muttered. Honestly at this point any hand would do, but he couldn't out himself as that much of a slag. 

"I am," those two words cleared all of the arousal and embarrassment tinted fog in his brain. Johnny pitched up to sit upright and stared at the masked man an arm's length away. 

"Yer aff yer heid, L.T." 

Ghost shrugged, maintaining eye contact like offering a subordinate a quick handy was normal bedside manner. "It's tactical." 

Johnny scoffed, muttering "Tactical wank," under his breath. 

The Brit kept staring, "You can't focus and I can't bloody sleep with all your bed fucking." Soap rolled his eyes and looked away, of course Ghost wouldn't leave well enough alone. He expected bed fucking to come up a half dozen times before Ghost lost interest in teasing it. 

"Ye offer this to all yer injured men?" 

He chuckled, eyes crinkling under the mask. "Only the special ones." He stood and prodded at Johnny's shoulder softly. "Lie down, won't touch ya anywhere else. Just get off, clear your head, and if you need it again just let me know." 

The bed dipped next to his hip, the larger man kneeling over him. Ghost reached out to pull on the drawstring of his sweatpants and Soap stopped him, covering Ghost's hand with his own. "Ye sure about this, L.T.?" Soap truly didn't mind, it wasn't the first time a fellow squadmate had jerked him off but never a superior, never Ghost. 

He nodded, "S'fine with me if it's fine with you." With that Johnny released his hand and allowed Ghost to pull the waistband of his sweats down. As his erection was exposed to the cool air of his room he flung an arm over his face. He heard a quiet, sharp inhale. "Good for you, Johnny." If Soap was a gambling man he'd put money down on the fact Ghost nearly sounded impressed. He felt a stupidly masculine sense of pride at his reaction. 

"Haud yer wheesht. Am no gonna finish if yer jokin' the whole time." 

Ghost chuckled beside him. "I'll behave." Soap fought the wave of arousal that threatened to pull him under, Ghost's baritone voice in this situation driving him to the edge. The man above him made a sympathetic noise. "Poor thing," he cooed and Johnny's face flushed harder. 

"S'been a minute," he mumbled, releasing a shaky exhale as warm, calloused fingers wrapped around him. 

"I won't judge ya then," he teased. "Might wanna warn me though, unless you wanna make a mess of yourself." 

Johnny couldn't stifle the groan that rumbled in his chest. Ghost was an asshole, he didn't want him to stop. Need burned through his veins, Ghost's hand was hot, calloused and delectably tight around his cock. He wouldn't need more than a few more strokes, even if his ego would take a hit. 

"Close, Ghost. Fuck." 

Ghost made an amused hum, Soap wanted to steal a glance at the man but thought he'd lose it completely if he did. "Good lad, go on then." 

His permission was Johnny's downfall. He came with a high pitched whine, teeth digging into the meat of his palm as his back arched. Ghost caught his release in his palm, rubbing his thumb along the ridge of his head and adding a new level to his release. He stroked Soap until his hips twitched away from overstimulation and he relented, tucking Johnny back into his pants and rising from the bed. In his blissful haze Soap vaguely heard Ghost step into his ensuite bathroom, running the sink. He lazily lifted his head as Ghost returned to the room, smiling at the masked figure across the room. 

"You 'right?" 

"Perfect," he crooned. His satisfied grin was interrupted by a yawn and Ghost chuckled softly. 

"Get some sleep, Johnny. See ya tomorrow." With a groggy goodbye Soap slipped off into a sleep deeper than he'd had in weeks. 

Soap tried to ignore it when need ignited in his gut again later the same week. He tried to will it away, even tried humping the bed again when he knew Ghost was out for a run so he wouldn't be disturbed. But his dick wouldn't cooperate, it was almost like since he knew Ghost's touch and his voice it was all his body craved anymore. 

His frustration was mounting every day, stupid mistakes and missed forms started piling on his temporary desk in the ops center. He couldn't focus again. His need was dangerously approaching fantasies he'd locked away months ago of a tall, masked British man he had no choice but to call a comrade and nothing more. Eventually he found himself swallowing his pride and approaching Ghost in the mess hall, quietly murmuring that he'd like to have a word privately. 

Ghost followed him to his quarters and when the door shut behind him, he turned to lock it without being prompted. Soap was instantly hard, his cock acting like a desperate mutt hearing the word 'treat.'

"I need help," Johnny nearly whined as he sat on the edge of his bed. 

"I can tell," Ghost's eyes crinkled. Not for the first time, Soap wondered what kind of expression was hidden behind the plain black balaclava Ghost wore off mission. "You almost stabbed Gaz for takin' the last of the coffee this morning." 

Johnny rolled his eyes, pulling himself to the top of his bed and throwing a pillow over his face. The bed dipped next to him, just like the other night. "S'hard not being able to handle it myself." 

"I can tell that, too." Soap moved the pillow off of his head to see Ghost's eyes trained on the erection outlined obscenely in his sweats. 

"Fuck off," he grumbled, replacing the pillow. 

"Oh, ya want me to leave?" The weight retreated from the bed. "I can go back to the mess and finish my tea then." Ghost took a single step away before Soap swallowed his pride. He knew he wouldn't leave but a desperate whine escaped his throat all the same. 

“Don’t leave,” he muttered, staring at the starched white cotton smothering his face. 

“What’s that?” 

“I said don’t leave, asshole.” 

Ghost huffed a breath, “That’s not a very polite request.” 

Johnny pressed the pillow harder into his face, wondering if he could get away with self-asphyxiation with Ghost in the room. “Don’t leave, please,” he groaned. “‘Appy?” 

“Tickled,” the mattress dipped at his side again and warm fingers were slipping into his waistband instantly. 

Soap sighed heavily as Ghost’s large, hot hand surrounded his prick again. “Thank you.” 

The obscene slide of skin on slick skin filled the room and Johnny’s back arched into his touch. Ghost was breathing heavily, was he breathing so loud the last time it happened? Johnny couldn’t remember. 

He let himself revel in the sensations, feeling no less desperate but thankfully farther from the knife's edge than the first time. Ghost was rough, battle hardened hands applying the most exquisitely tight friction. It was almost as if Ghost could read his mind, knowing when to apply more pressure and when to let off. He moved with efficiency, confidence, and Soap found himself drawing nearer and nearer to that cliff's ledge of relief. 

"You can do it, Johnny. C'mon." His words should have felt patronizing, infuriating even but Soap couldn't find a single shred of annoyance. It was more intense this time, his nerves burned raw and bright. 

"Fuck, Ghost. I'm gonna…" his fingers clenched painfully into the pillow over his head as he pulled it off his face. 

"C'mon Johnny, cum for me." 

For me. 

Johnny sobbed as he fell into bliss. His body curled into himself as wave after wave of shivering ecstasy drowned him. "Ghost!" His back fell onto the mattress again and he shoved his hips up, pleading and babbling for a few more seconds of harrowing indulgence from the man above him. 

Johnny dared to look at him this time, Ghost was looking at his cock as his cum dripped down his fingers. The sight was purely erotic and Johnny’s cock spasmed hard, more cum sliding down the shaft and over Ghost's knuckles. Ghost with his hand on his cock, Ghost’s tattoos were stained with his release, Ghost had an erection tenting his BDU’s. Soap’s stupid, cum-drunk brain started leaking out of his skull. Ghost was hard from jerking him off. 

Does this mean- Are you- Do you want- 

A million wild questions flitted through his head, most would likely result in a knife to his throat if asked and none of them appropriate to dare speak into existence. Awkward erections happened, it didn’t mean anything. I wish it would. Soap tried to smother the thought before it could take root in his heart. His head hit the mattress with a muted thud and he whimpered. He wished Ghost would let him touch, that wasn't what this was about. But God damn it all, he wanted. 

With a shaking breath he took a chance, “Want help with that?” 

Ghost chuckled, “I’m fine, Johnny. You alright?” Soap smothered the misplaced sense of disappointment. 

“Fantastic,” he answered, a trembling exhale warbling the words. Ghost stood and went to clean his hand, the bulge in his pants ever-obvious. 

“You get some rest, see ya tomorrow.” The door clicked shut quietly behind Ghost and Johnny wished he would have stayed. He didn't want to think about why, just wanted Ghost near him. However, Soap was thankfully too tired to let any of his sad little fantasies take hold. He passed out without removing his shoes on top of the blankets.

Chapter Text

Over the following month Soap sought out Ghost's company more frequently. Both in public and in the privacy of his own quarters. He enjoyed the Brit's teasing, his jokes, their familiarity, and he was beginning to really enjoy their after-hours activities. Much more than he could really stand to consider. Too risky, too close to a place in his chest Soap had locked away before joining the 141. 

Johnny kept it tactical. He never went to the lieutenant's door, only shooting him a look in the mess hall or training room before retiring for the night and without fail Ghost would be slipping in the door and closing it quietly behind him approximately 10 minutes later. He'd get off, Ghost would tease him, and they went their separate ways. Tactical. 

It didn't matter that his stomach flipped when Ghost called him a good lad or praised him. It didn't matter that if he cracked a joke in the mess hall he immediately looked to Ghost for the telltale jump of his shoulders as he chuckled. It didn't matter that Ghost's name flowed freely from his lips as the very man he considered to be untouchable brought him to orgasm time and time again. Nope. It didn't matter at all. 

Today was different, normally he'd be able to fight his growing want until he could find some peace at the end of the day. But today he had spent the morning in the training room, hanging out with Ghost, because that was something they did now. He'd brought a handful of reports in need of review and tucked himself off to the side while Ghost demonstrated hand to hand combat tactics to a new group of rookies. 

Quiz Soap on what was in those reports, he knew he'd fail. His whole attention was on the way Ghost moved, the way he was able to pick up even the strongest recruits and send them sprawling on their backs, the way his eyes crinkled every time he looked over at Johnny. 

This attraction was dangerous. Ghost was alarmingly close to the chained shut door in his chest and Johnny knew he could pick a lock in three seconds. He just hoped the Brit wasn't curious about what was inside, he wouldn't like what he saw. To escape the abstract, floating sensations in his heart Soap leaned heavily into the physical. Ghost was attractive, tall and wide and built like a brick house. He reasoned he was being objective, any man like him would find a man like Ghost undeniably sexy. 

Leaning into the physical side of his attraction left him…in need…again. All the time, if he was honest. Admiring Ghost's fluid movements and sweat soaked body destroyed his concentration. He spun the pen on his desk again before picking it up and tossing it back into his drawer as he stood. 

Soap poked his head around the wall that sectioned off his "office" (desk with a chair and a laptop) and called out to Price. 

"Oi, I'm feelin' real sore today, Captain. PT has been workin' me ragged." Price closed the folder in his hands, looking up at Soap. "Mind if I head off and lie down? I'll be good as new tomorrow." 

Price grinned, giving him a nod, "Don't work yourself too hard, Soap. I need ya battle ready when medical clears ya, go take a rest." 

"Aye, Sir. Thank ye kindly. Only six more days," he wiggled his fingers hanging out of the sling and cast. Six more days of itching and stiffness before he was free of the cast and on to the more intensive physical therapy to regain the atrophied muscle and function of his right hand. Johnny couldn't wait, but the recovery of his injury would mean the little "thing" with Ghost would come to an end soon. Soap didn't know if he was quite ready for that yet. 

Ghost moved ever closer to the metaphorical locked door. Soap shook his head, hoping to dislodge the thoughts he couldn't look at too closely. Ghost's voice. His eyes. His hands. 

Johnny stopped in his tracks, annoyed at himself for letting his thoughts run while he was still in public. He was rock hard in the hallway with a long, humiliating walk to get to his quarters. 

"Steamin' Jesus," he scrubbed a hand over his face and made a right turn down a corridor that led to both his problem and his solution. He reached a nondescript door with only a small placard reading S. Riley indicating it was anything other than a broom closet. 

He looked around, ensuring no one was nearby before knocking twice on the door. He was nearly as efficient as Ghost at picking locks but he was nearly sure he'd find a knife in his throat for the trouble. 

The door opened softly, Ghost's masked face appearing from the late afternoon shadows like his namesake. The hard look in his eyes softened as he took in who had disturbed him. He looked from his face down to the obvious tent in his trousers and sighed playfully. 

"I'm working, Johnny. Can you wait?" 

Soap smothered his frustrated whine with the palm of his hand but the way Ghost's eyes narrowed he knew he'd been caught out anyway. 

Ghost sighed softly, "C'mon." He ticked his head to the side, inviting Johnny in. "Lock the door." He watched as Ghost dragged one of the chairs against his wall next to his own at his desk 

"Sit," he did. Ghost returned to his desk chair and deftly pulled Johnny's pants open, freeing his prick and palming it slowly. Soap let out a relieved groan. "I've gotta finish this, stay quiet and behave." If Ghost noticed how hard his cock jumped he didn't comment on it. He turned back to the stack of papers on his desk. It would look like he was ignoring Soap, if not for the hand on his cock. 

Johnny bit back a moan, uninjured hand clenching tightly in the fabric of his fatigues. Ghost's hand stroked him roughly, dry skin on dry skin a burning, harsh pleasure. 

"Spit," he commanded, not even looking up from the page. He held his palm up to Johnny's mouth and he obeyed, spitting and then letting the drool drip from his tongue onto Ghost's hand. He looked at him then, a dangerous shine in his eyes. "Good boy." 

Soap wasn't fast enough to stop the whimper that crawled out of his chest and Ghost chuckled. "Just drooling for it, aren't you?" He returned to pulling him off, the slick noise an erotic symphony to Johnny's ears. 

"G-Ghost," he didn't stop stroking, instead he tightened his grip. 

"Shh," he cooed, turning the page on his report. "Don't distract me." 

The complete indifference in Ghost's body language wound him up tighter than a tripwire. "Fuck." He tipped his head back, a full shiver chilling his skin as it rolled down his spine. He was seconds away, just needed Ghost to keep going. "Gonna-" 

His sentence was interrupted by a guttural moan as Ghost pulled his hand away. He reached into his desk and pulled out a highlighter, uncapping it and marking a line of text in his report. He turned to Soap, eyes glimmering with false innocence. 

"You. Fucking. Bastard." Johnny managed between heavy breaths. 

"What? I needed to mark that, s'important." 

Soap groaned, scrubbing a hand across his face. "Yer a fucken bawbag." Ghost was playing with him. The goddamn tease. 

"Sorry Johnny," he wasn't fucking sorry. He palmed Soap's cock again, rubbing his thumb over the leaking slit. 

Ghost went back to reading his report, eyes sharply focused on the paper in front of him as he stroked Soap. He fought the twitch in his hips, doing his best not to distract Ghost again and maybe hide his impending orgasm so he couldn't pull another cruel trick. 

No such luck, the second he felt the tell-tale heat reach a boiling point in his gut Ghost's hand disappeared again, uncapping the highlighter and marking a small block of text again. 

"How'd'ya even fucken know," Soap hissed. Hips thrusting into the air uselessly. Ghost glanced at him, eyes crinkling. 

"Ya have a lot of tells, Johnny." 

He bit into his palm to let out a frustrated groan. "How long are ye gonna torture me?" 

Ghost chuckled, turning another page on his report like his hand wasn't slicked with spit and precum. "Until it stops being fun." His hand trailed teasingly down his shaft until it dipped into Soap's boxers, playing idly with his balls. 

That was…new, and not at all unwelcome. Johnny spread his legs wider, shoving at his boxers a bit to give Ghost more access. He squeezed gently, shocking a groan out of Soap. Before he could notice a creeping finger, it teased behind his balls. 

"Christ, Ghost." He whined again as the Brit hushed him, eyes warm and playful. 

With his sack cupped heavily in his palm, Ghost let two fingers tease lower still and slide agonizingly slow over his hole. Soap's hips jumped, he spread his thighs as wide as his fatigues would let him, giving Ghost all of the access he could. 

"Good boy, Johnny." Soap couldn't see his eyes but Ghost's voice was breathless, affected. 

Even without direct stimulation on his cock he was still rapidly approaching the edge. The fingers tapping against his hole an obscene reminder of how desperate he was. 

"Ghost, God don't stop. Don't stop." 

Tears sprung to his eyes when the bastard stopped. He couldn't do a thing to prevent them from spilling down his cheeks, overwhelmed and understimulated. 

He had his fingers wrapped tightly around Soap's cock, not moving an inch. "I think you've earned it, don't you Johnny?" Ghost finally pulled his attention away from the reports, turning towards Soap fully. He nodded with a sob. "Ask nicely." 

There was no room left for shame in his head. "Please, Ghost. Please! I need to cum I can't take it anymore. Please let me cum." 

Ghost groaned, tipping his head back. "Okay, Johnny. Okay. Cum for me, love." 

The pet name finished him faster than any friction on his cock ever could. He came with a shuddering, pained moan painting Ghost's hand and, to his utter humiliation, his pants with his release. As he fought for breath he stared at Ghost with wide, terrified eyes. 

"Fucken hell, I'm sorry." 

Ghost followed his gaze to the stripes of white steadily staining his trousers, a thick puddle directly over the bulge in his pants. His eyes flashed hot and sharp. "S'fine Johnny. Y'alright?" Soap swallowed heavily, nodding as he tried to regain his breath. 

"Thank you," he tucked himself back into his fatigues as efficiently as he could one-handed. "Wanna grab a bite when yer done?" 

Ghost's eyes kept flickering down to his crotch. "Sure, I'll come find ya." 

"Thanks again," he stood to leave as Ghost hummed, eyes flickering between Johnny and his stained pants. 

"Lock the door when ya leave, Johnny." 

"Aye, Sir." As Soap closed the door he heard the unmistakable clink of a belt buckle and a zipper sliding down. He chose not to think about it.

Chapter Text

Is a handjob kink a thing? Soap was making it a thing. The more Ghost… helped him out the more arousing the whole debacle became. After the time where Ghost hadn't even glanced at him while he edged him, wouldn't bring him off until he begged for it, Johnny found he couldn't stop thinking about it. 

Ghost was starting to visit him unprompted, nearly every evening slipping inside and clicking the door locked. Soap didn't mind, his sex drive amplified just by the sheer presence of the Brit. Tonight was no different, Ghost slipping in unnoticed by anyone out in the hallway. 

He chuckled as he caught Johnny trying to scratch an itch deep underneath his cast with a pencil. "It's off tomorrow, yeah?" 

"Fucken finally," he flung the pencil towards his desk, missing by a mile. 

Ghost went to pick it up, setting it on Soap's desk with a chuckle. "Yet I trust you to watch my back." 

"Oi, fuck off. My aim is better with my right hand," just to be a shite, he stuck his tongue out petulantly. 

Ghost's eyes crinkled and he leaned against Soap's desk, crossing his arms casually. Johnny fought to keep his eyes from trailing down the tight lines of muscle. "What time are ya getting off?" 

Soap ignored the double entendre. "0900 tomorrow, then it's right to PT to start working it back into shape." He flexed his arm, already feeling the muscle loss in the looseness of the cast. 

"Gotta get that grip strength back, I'm sure you'll have plenty of opportunity." A lick of melancholy hit Johnny, surprising only in the fact that it wasn't. With the cast off Ghost would have no reason to slip into his quarters in the evenings. No reason to touch him. He didn’t admit, even to himself, that he would miss this ‘purely platonic and tactical arrangement’ they’d found themselves in. 

Soap swallowed the lump in his throat, reclining back on his elbow. "Might be pretty weak for a while, ye know." 

Ghost's eyes scrunched up in that way that Johnny would never admit he was desperate to see without the mask. Whatever expression Ghost made when his eyes did that, he did it often and Soap wanted to know. 

Ghost pushed himself off the desk, "Can't have you losing focus on your recovery." 

He pushed Johnny to recline on the bed, definitely more forcefully than he ever had or ever needed to, Soap didn’t mind that at all. He let himself fall back, arms tucked comfortably over his head. Johnny smiled as Ghost’s hands trailed along the waistband of his sweats, the touch teasing and comforting in one go. His lieutenant positioned himself comfortably at his side as he tugged Soap’s sweats down to mid thigh, different but again not unwelcome. 

Ghost’s fingers trailed teasingly along the length of his cock, his other hand coming up to play with his sack gently. Johnny's breath left him in a satisfied sigh, hips twitching up into the contact. He stroked roughly, pulling harsh breaths out of Johnny's chest as he moved. Two fingers slid behind his balls to tap teasingly at his hole and he couldn't help but push back against the pressure, feeling agonizingly empty. 

"Spit," he commanded and Soap obeyed eagerly, drooling over Ghost's fingers. The hand disappeared between his legs again and Johnny jumped as a slick finger glided over his hole. "Do you want me to stop?" 

He'd have time to appreciate Ghost stopping to ask later, right now he could only let out a broken moan. "Please don't, Ghost."  

The man above him groaned as he let a finger slide inside. Johnny keened, a sob breaking out of his chest. It had been so long and he was desperate for more. 

"So tight, Johnny. Fuck." Ghost thrusted his finger gently, teasing around the edges of his prostate. 

Soap’s hands balled into fists as he rapidly approached that blissful edge. Ghost’s hand around his cock loosened but didn’t pull away and Johnny whined in need. “Don’t pull that shite again,” he groaned, hips bucking up to keep Ghost’s hand on him. 

“I’ll be a good boy,” chills raced through his veins at the desperate edge in his superior’s voice. He tapped into his prostate relentlessly, pushing him closer and closer. 

Maybe Johnny was thinking about if Ghost would call him a good boy while he railed him within an inch of his life. Maybe he was thinking about the smell of cigarettes and gunpowder. Maybe he was thinking about Ghost sucking bruises into his neck. Maybe he was thinking about every little thing he adored about the man. At the peak of his pleasure he couldn't shove that tiny, lethal thought away and he came with a broken, desperate moan. 

"Ghost!" He whined, affection and lust spilling from his lips. He couldn't fight it anymore. He wanted. Wanted more than just Ghost's hands, wanted his cock, his mouth, his kiss. Once his brain came back online he'd tell him that. 

Ghost stroked him through it until Soap whimpered, pulling away weakly. He sat back on his knees, hands shaking and erection outlined obscenely in the tight fabric of his cargos. 

"Fuck, Johnny. Do you mind if I-" he ground his clean palm down harshly against the bulge in his pants, hips stuttering. 

Soap made a tired wave of his hand. "Sure, you can go in the loo if ye'd like." 

"S'not like I have any modesty," he chuckled. Rising up on his knees Ghost unbuttoned his trousers and slid his soiled hand down inside. He groaned low in his throat, pulling Johnny's attention from the haze of his orgasm. 

"Want any help?" 

Ghost shook his head quickly, "Don't need it, will only be a few minutes, if that." Ghost's pants were slipping low around his hips, revealing tight black briefs stretched sinfully over his hand and cock. 

If Johnny had any brain matter left it would be bleeding out of his ears. Ghost was touching himself with the same fucking hand he had wrapped around Soap's prick a minute prior. He hadn't even cleaned his cum off before reaching into his own briefs. Soap's cock was rapidly filling out again and he would laugh if he wasn't so fucking desperate. 

With his last brain cell he had the idea to tease. Ghost pushed him over the edge with his voice constantly, he wondered if he could do the same. 

“You do this every time after ye finish me off?” Ghost sighed, nodding minutely. “Dinnae ken why you run off instead of just doing this. Ye caused me to miss out on a hell of a show.” 

Ghost honest to God whimpered, “Felt selfish, wasn’t supposed to be about me.” 

“Oh no, darling. This is still all about me,” he purred, a confidence he didn’t feel dripping from his voice. "Got you so worked up, Sir." Ghost groaned at the title. "At least I have an excuse," he grinned and Ghost sent him a heated look. 

"You started it," he hissed. "Saying my fucking name like that." His hand moved faster and Soap propped himself up on his elbows for a closer look. 

"Like what?" He feigned innocence, letting his lips curl into a smirk. "Ghost?" He let a little of his desperation show in his voice and Ghost keened. 

"S-hah, Simon. Call me- Simon." He panted 

"Fuck, Simon." He groaned, the honor of his permission and the fucked out tone of Ghost's voice left him fully and agonizingly hard again. 

"Yeah, fuck, yeah. Again." 

Johnny decided one more risk was worth it. This new electricity ignited his heart in a way he should have been afraid of. "Simon, want you to cum for me." 

It was worth it. Ghost's head flew back and he let out a low, rumbling moan. His hips thrusting jerkily as he found his release. He sat back on his heels, still fondling himself in his briefs and Soap felt a sharp thrill of arousal at the filthy sight that was surely hidden from his eyes. It seemed that maybe Simon had a thing for the sweet pain of overstimulation, his cock twitched hard in his sweats. With a groan Johnny covered his face with his hands. 

"Well, might have solved one problem but we created another." Johnny coyly split his fingers to look up at Ghost sheepishly. The Brit's eyes trailed down his body, taking notice of his straining cock, before snapping back up to meet his own. 

"Christ, Johnny." Despite his words reading as frustrated, Ghost's tone was soft, exasperated and fond. "Just how often are you gettin' off in a normal week?" 

Every night. Twice if I'm wound up. He refused to be completely honest, shrugging and offering, "Every few nights. Can't help that I'm a healthy, virile, young lad L.T." 

Ghost looked at him consideringly, eyes crinkling in that odd way behind his mask. "That you are," Soap ignored the way his stomach flipped. "Bet you treat all the sweet girls at home to quite the evening." He waved his hand towards the bed, inviting Johnny to lie down again. 

Soap did, leaning back with his casted arm resting above his head. The bed dipped next to him as Ghost readjusted and he chuckled. "More so the gents, works out for me though. They like that I'm ready to go whenever they want me." 

Ghost hummed above him, "That so?" 

"Aye, every man wants a slut. S'long as they're only a slut for them." 

Warm fingers teased at the waistband of his sweats as Ghost freed his cock and gripped him tight. "Can't argue with that." He stroked him, fast and hard just how Soap liked and he thrust his hips up to join him in a sinful rhythm. Johnny remembered again that this same hand had gotten Ghost off just before and arousal coiled heavy in his gut. 

"You always ready to go again this fast?" 

"If it's good, aye." He gasped as Ghost squeezed the head of his cock. The tight heat uprooted his carefully held control. They were talking more than they ever had before in this situation, crossing invisible boundaries set ages ago, something was changing. Johnny couldn't find it in him to mind.

Ghost hummed, something unnamed and powerful flashing in his eyes. His strokes were getting to the uncomfortable side of dry and just as Johnny was about to mention it Ghost reached up with his free hand and rolled his mask up to rest on the bridge of his nose. He fucking spit directly on to the tip of Soap's cock, spreading it down with a swipe of his thumb. Johnny followed the trail of spit up to Ghost's mouth, his pink tongue poking tantalizingly between his teeth as he grinned. A fucking silver piercing shining in the low light like a diamond. 

"Steamin' bloody Jesus." This was new. The conversation was the same albeit more than he was used to, the touch all too familiar at this point, but the air was charged with something new and fragile. Ghost met his eyes, a devil's smirk spreading across his face. Johnny was a dead man. He didn't survive the blast. Ghost's partially exposed face, his heated amber eyes, his exquisite torture was Soap's damnation and eternal salvation in one visage. 

"Little old me did this to you? Just by touching myself?" Johnny arched his back, throwing his head into the pillows hard. He had to screw his eyes shut, the sight before him too rapturous for him to behold. "You make a pretty mess, Johnny." 

Without even thinking about it his uninjured hand found the back of Ghost's neck and he squeezed, fingers clenched in the warm cloth of his mask. He broke the last unspoken rule and it seemed as if Ghost had taken it as permission. He flung his other leg over Johnny, settling warm and heavy on his thighs. His other hand found Soap's hip and dug into the soft flesh. Johnny prayed for bruises. 

"Fuck, Simon, I need-" He cut off on a moan, hips bucking as he chased after the eternal bliss offered up on a platter by the devil himself. 

"What do you need? Tell me." Soap slid his fingers from his nape, along his jawline, thumb coming to rest on the soft, chapped skin of Ghost's bottom lip. He couldn't force the words out, yet Ghost understood them anyway. He pitched forward, face hovering only millimeters away from his own as the Brit's hand worked him mercilessly. "Want a kiss, Johnny?" 

"Yes," escaped his lips like a prayer, like confession on Sunday mornings. 

Ghost leaned in impossibly closer yet still too far from where Johnny wanted him. "That's my boy," he whispered before their lips met. Violent, desperate, and wild yet still so soft. The first brush of the silver ball of Ghost's piercing against his tongue was the detonator, Soap was the bomb. He came with a strangled whimper, Ghost stealing his breath easily and Johnny wondered why he ever needed anything so trivial as air when there was this instead. 

Ghost kissed him through it, nipping gently at his lip. Soap had barely the energy to kiss back, fingers wound tightly in Ghost's hair. If he had any presence of mind left he'd have noticed that no mask was in the way of his touch. 

They broke apart mere centimeters, unable to stay away long enough to speak a full sentence. "That wasn't…very tactical…was it?" 

Ghost hummed against his lips, pulling back just enough to look at him, eyes crinkled as he smiled. "You started it." 

Chapter Text

Johnny made a soft, surprised noise as he looked at Simon. He placed a gentle hand on his cheek, eyes shining. Neither called attention to the fact that his mask was off but Ghost could tell how happy it made him anyway. It took a moment before Ghost's words registered and Soap tried to fight the smile on his face to look indignant. 

"How exactly did I start it? You offered." He poked at his chest with his uninjured hand.

Ghost hummed, pushing up to sit on Soap's lap. "You started it when you fucken sauntered on in to my life and refused to fuck off." Johnny smiled up at him lazily and his heart thundered. That may have been a little too honest. 

Something must have changed in his face because Soap's eyes softened, he reached out to entwine their hands, hesitating as if Ghost would stop him. "Yer tellin' me that all this time I coulda been kissin' that bonnie face of yers?" 

"T'fuck does that mean?" Simon was deeply regretting letting his balaclava slip off during their kiss, his face grew hot. 

"Bonnie? Means pretty, handsome," he struggled to sit up, using Ghost's trapped hand to pull himself up. "Gorgeous. An' I mean it. You're beautiful, Simon." 

Ghost couldn't meet his eyes, instead he watched Soap's thumb rub soothing circles on the back of his hand. Johnny stole a kiss, catching him by surprise and leaving him unable to stifle the small pleased noise that rumbled out of his chest. 

"After Las Almas I locked ye away. Put you behind a door labeled "friend" and slapped a lock on it. Couldn't go falling for ye if ye didn't feel the same." 

"How'd I manage to break outta there?" Soap squeezed his hand. 

"Did ye know ye could pick a lock in three seconds?" Johnny chuckled and Simon couldn't fight the smile that broke across his face. Something flashed in the Scot's eyes, some realization that left him looking awed. "You're smiling when your eyes do that?" 

He made a confused noise, looking down at himself as if he could see what Soap meant. "Do what?" 

"Your eyes do this…thing. They crinkle up just a little, I've always wanted to see the look on your face when you did it. Dinnae ken ye were smiling." 

Ghost didn't know he did that. He didn't know how Johnny could be so perceptive, to notice his mood change just from the look in his eyes. Soap could anticipate changes before Ghost realized them himself. 

He couldn't even find the words to respond, just tilted his head and let Soap look at him, awestruck and happy. Months of admiration, of adoration, all paid in full by this one blissful moment where Johnny looked at him and saw Simon. 

"Is this something you want?" Soap asked so gently, like there was any possible reality where Ghost could say no. He didn't know? Looking at his face Simon realized, he really didn't know. Did he not see it? Or was he scared to? 

Months of those silver blue eyes turning to find him only to see Ghost was already looking, laughing at awful jokes, researching more awful jokes just to hear Johnny groan over the comms. He reached out and touched Soap constantly, a privilege he'd never bestowed upon even those closest to him before the Scot came along. He literally offered to pleasure him just so he could keep a clear head. How many more ways could he have worn his heart exposed on his sleeve? 

"Simon," he refocused on Soap's face. "What are ye thinking?" 

He couldn't help but laugh. "About how I must be truly horrid at sending signals or you're just really, really daft." Johnny scoffed, smacking at Ghost's arm lightly. 

"Thought we were close, friends, I had you locked behind the friend door remember?" 

Simon raised an eyebrow. "Callin' you 'my boy' in the field after saving your life is platonic?" 

Soap gaped at him, attempting three separate starts to a sentence before he grumbled, "Thought I imagined that." 

Ghost huffed a small, embarrassed chuckle. "No, I really said that." 

Johnny blushed and looked above Ghost's head, the pretty pink flushing down his cheeks and neck. "I mean I did tell ye to save a horse and ride me instead, we might be even."

Simon pushed his forehead against Johnny's. "I don't do anything I don't want to. I don't rush head first into something I haven't thought about carefully. If you want this, I want this." He'd survive if Soap didn't want him, or only wanted part of him. But he'd thrive if Johnny cared for him too. 

"When we're telling people how we got together we're gonna leave out the part about tactical handjobs, aye?" 

Ghost laughed, relief singing in his veins. "I dunno. I feel like it's a bragging right that I've made ya cry with only my touch." Soap smacked his chest lightly, laughing. Simon would never, could never share what's his with anyone else. 

He kissed Johnny again, a soft and sweet little thing that should have been what their first was like, although Simon couldn't complain about the way it really happened. 

Ghost brushed his thumb over Soap's cheek and immediately cringed as he realized his hand was still sticky and wet. 

"Bollocks. M'sorry," Johnny just laughed, wiping the mess off his cheek. 

"I have never ever heard you sound more like a fucken Brit than when you say 'bollocks'," he said the word in a horrific attempt at a British accent and Simon reached out with his dirty hand just to make Johnny squeak. "Ye can gimme a facial just not with me own fucken spend."

Now that's a thought, innit? 

He ignored the rising heat in his belly and turned away before Soap could see his blush. The satisfied chuckle he heard behind him indicated that he wasn't quite successful. He ducked his head shyly and rushed to stand, wincing at the mess in his briefs. He'd gotten so carried away tonight, unable to even control himself long enough to slip back into his own quarters next door to take care of himself. He couldn't find it in him to mind, if he had known this would be the outcome he wouldn't have approached with a "tactical" mindset at all. But he still made a mess of himself and it was nothing short of uncomfortable. 

"Actually, mind if I take a shower? I kind of-" it felt humiliating to acknowledge the sticky mess in his pants but he didn't want to leave, didn't want to ask if he would be welcomed back. 

Johnny nodded, smirking slightly. "Want company?" 

He answered with a look and Soap was quick to scramble up behind him, ushering him into the bathroom with an urgency that had Ghost chuckling. 

He stripped quickly, eager to rid himself of his soiled clothing. He turned to start the shower, Soap standing frozen in the corner of his eye. 

"Jesus fucking Christ. You look like you strolled out of my dreams." Simon flushed hot, feeling, well, naked. His eyes were locked onto the silver rings through Ghost's nipples. 

"Quit lookin' at my tits. Ya gonna join me or what?" He grumbled, stepping into the shower and pulling the curtain closed behind him. 

"Anything as long as I get to keep looking at ye." Simon turned the water as hot as he could stand it, letting the steam cover up his embarrassed blush. "Wait! Help," he spoke so quietly, so cutely, Ghost couldn't resist him. Never had been able to. 

He ducked around the curtain again and grasped the offered sleeve, helping Johnny cover his cast for the last time. 

"Bet ya can't wait to get that off, yeah?" 

"Aye, I'd like me hand back." Soap looked away, suddenly shy. "I'm glad this happened tonight, I was sad that it'd be ending soon." 

So was Ghost, but he wasn't going to be the one to admit it. 

"Luckily you can never leave anything well enough alone, Johnny. Kept winding me up more and more." 

"I really wasn't trying to," Soap pressed closer into his space, wet skin sliding against wet skin as his hand traced the lines of scars on Ghost's chest. 

"That's the thing, ya never try to. You're like the sun, just by existing you draw me to you." 

The look in Johnny's eyes was nothing short of awe, Ghost only caught a glimpse before he was caught in a bruising kiss. 

He slipped his tongue into Soap's mouth, devouring his moan right from the source. Somehow he managed to catch Ghost's piercing between his teeth, tugging gently. A loud growl rumbled from his chest and he clamped his hand tightly on the back of Johnny's neck to pull him closer. His hard length pressed against Simon's own. They ground their hips together until Soap pulled back, eyebrow raised in curiosity. 

"Tell me you don't." 

Ghost laughed, "I do." 

Simon choked back the whine that threatened to pour from his lips as Johnny dropped down to his knees, hand wrapped around his cock. He ran his thumb down the five silver barbells along the underside of his dick, sending a shiver up Ghost's spine. 

"Any more hot little fucken piercings you haven't mentioned?" 

Simon ran his hand through his mohawk, delighting in the feel of his hair. "Nah, only the eight." 

"Eight, he says, like that's not a lot." Johnny scoffed, eyes wide and hungry. "I wonder how they feel in my throat." 

That was the only warning Ghost received before his cock was enveloped in warm, wet heat. "Christ, Johnny." He looked up at Simon, eyes wide and burning bright. Soap forced more of his cock down, choking slightly but not letting off. 

Ghost moaned, fingers tightening in his hair as Soap swallowed around him. 

"You look so good choking on me. Fucken hell, such a good boy, Johnny." Soap keened, pushing himself further before pulling back, chest heaving. 

"Fuck, you're big." 

"You can take me, lad. C'mon," he pushed on the back of Johnny's head gently, coaxing him back. With a deep breath Soap dove down again, pushing Ghost further and further down his throat until his nose was pressed tight between Simon's hips. "Fuck. That's my boy, yeah?" Johnny keened, squirming against Ghost. His hand lay relaxed, not holding him down, the effort was all Johnny's. "So good, look at ya. My pretty boy." 

Soap's wet, shining silver eyes met his and he smiled softly. He moaned, the vibrations along his length causing Ghost to mirror him with his own as he rolled his hips gently. He was dangerously close to spilling down his throat, but something Johnny had said earlier sounded more appealing. 

"Can I cum on your face, love?" Johnny whimpered, head bobbing in a nod as he pulled off. His tongue lolled out as he stared up at Simon, bright eyes shining. 

The sight alone was close to finishing him. He stroked himself off, rubbing the head of his cock over Soap's swollen lips and flushed cheeks. Johnny whined, like he would die without it, and that was the thing that sent Ghost off the ledge. He came with a quiet, earth shaking groan, painting Johnny's face with stripes of white. He kept moving his hand, sharp zings of pleasure-pain shooting through his limbs. The Scot blinked up to meet his eye. 

Pretty. 

He swiped at a glob of cum dangerously close to Soap's eyes, bringing his thumb up to his mouth. Johnny looked at him like Ghost had just kneed him in the face. With a quirked eyebrow Simon swiped up more and pushed it into Soap's mouth. He whined around it and licked at it just like he had Ghost's cock. 

"You're pure danger," he gasped. 

Johnny released his thumb with a wet pop and smirked up at him. "Oral fixation, it comes in handy." Ghost should have known, always with a cigarette between his lips, even unlit, or sucking on candies in a way that had haunted Simon's dreams. 

He grasped Soap's arms to pull him standing and reached for his cock, he was half hard and winced in overstimulation. "Yeah," he chuckled, "I'm, ah, I'm good." Ghost didn't understand, his good hand still trapped in the plastic sleeve. It hit him then, Soap enjoyed sucking him off so much he came from it. "You-" 

"Came untouched like an overexcited teenager? Aye." Embarrassment was a good look on Johnny. He pushed Johnny against the wall, blocking the shower spray with his shoulder as he kissed him. 

"Why do ya gotta be so cute, huh?" Ghost was smiling, forcing Soap to kiss his teeth more so than his lips. 

"M'not cute." Simon pecked his pout, smiling again. "M'handsome, dashing dare I say." 

"You can be both." Johnny rubbed his thumbs at the corners of Ghost's eyes, a reminder that they do that thing that Soap seemed to love so much. 

They shared lazy, smiling kisses until the water was too cold to stay under. Simon pulled Johnny out, wrapping him in a towel and kissing the side of his head before grabbing another for himself. 

"Stay?" Ghost was already moving to say yes when Johnny added, "Ye can just say that ye were helpin' me get ready to head to medical if anyone asks. Jus' don't wanna let you go yet. But its okay if ye do wanna go! I won't take it personally, don't wanna make ye-" 

"Johnny," he interrupted him with a kiss. "Shh. I'll stay, I wanna stay." 

Soap smiled, "Okay, great, good." He pulled away towards his dresser, pulling out a pair of sleep pants. 

"I don't suppose you have anything I could borrow?" 

Soap winced apologetically, "Nothing that would fit ye." Ghost groaned internally at the thought of trying to get into his room in nothing but a towel, knowing he'd give anyone who happened to be in the hallway a heart attack if he stepped out of Soap's room like that. 

"As much as I like the idea of keeping ye here naked and gorgeous like ye are, am no gonna have a wink of sleep tonight if ye do." He fiddled with his fingers shyly, "If ye don't mind it, I can slip over to yours and grab you something clean to wear?" 

He reached into his discarded fatigues for his room key, handing it to Soap. "Top drawer in the dresser." 

Johnny grinned, slipping out the door quickly. He could hear his own door opening, Soap's footsteps as he crossed the room, and the slide of his dresser drawer opening. Ghost laughed to himself, the walls were paper thin and Johnny was lucky to have a neighbor who moved with a silence worthy of his call sign. Simon could hear just about everything Soap did in his room, including his pathetic, immensely arousing attempts to get off which pushed Ghost to offer in the first place. 

The drawer was shut with a quiet thump and he tracked the footsteps leading back towards Simon. 

He ducked behind the door as it opened, waiting for Soap to close it before he surprised him. He slid one arm around his waist, the other over Johnny's throat placing him in a loose headlock. He intended only to scare Johnny then tease him about it, until he saw him wrapped in his old training tee. Riley was printed in big block letters along broad shoulders, his name again right over Soap's heart. An overwhelming sense of possessiveness flooded his veins. 

He dropped his voice into a low growl, "You're wearing my shirt." 

Johnny chuckled nervously, "I can take it off, just felt so soft when I touched it I wanted to wear something of yers." 

Ghost nosed along his ear, "Don't." Johnny hummed in question as his teeth nipped softly at a spot just below his ear, flicking his tongue out. "Don't take it off. Wear it as much as you'd like. S'yours now, I like seein' ya marked with my name." He let his arm slip lower, sliding along the length of his sweats. He dipped his thumb in along the divot of Soap's hip. 

Johnny batted at his hands, "Oi, don't got a fourth round in me, L.T., don't push it." 

"Hmm, tomorrow then, just put this back on." Soap laughed breathlessly, leaning into his chest. 

"Fucken menace ye are." 

"You started it," he murmured against his skin. Relenting, he stepped back, admiring his name on Soap's body again before he whirled around.  

Through a laugh he poked a finger at Ghost's chest. "Ye blamin' me for everything tonight, ye shite." 

He smirked, "Not my fault everything you do is so fuckin' attractive, Johnny." 

Soap shoved a bundle of loungewear into his chest, growling playfully. "Stop trying to rile me up and put some pants on." 

"Can't," he grinned, "It's in the name." He traced his finger along the 'Riley' on Soap's chest and his hand was smacked away. 

"Haud yer wheesht, ye fucken tease." 

He pulled his sweats on, smirking at the Scot as he scowled without heat. "Ya complainin'?" 

"Nae, jus' wait until I can do something about it." Despite what he was saying, Johnny's eyes raked hungrily over Ghost's chest again. Simon didn't know if he was a good enough looking bloke for Soap to look at him like that, but he loved the attention anyway. 

"Not possible, my dear. You make it too much fun." He watched Soap's face flush pink again at the endearment, grumbling before combing his fingers through his mohawk. It was so long now, Simon wanted to feel it wrapped around his fingers again.  

Johnny pulled him towards his bed, "Just lie down and hold me, damn you. Ye can tease me in the morning." 

Deal. 

Ghost slid into bed behind Johnny, kissing his temple before settling in to sleep with the comfortable weight of a fiery Scotsman in his arms.

Chapter Text

Soap woke up to a face full of broad shoulders and a thick chest. He pulled back groggily, seeing the torso had a head, a mop of pretty blond hair, and an adoring smirk on their face. 

"Mornin' Johnny," Ghost was unfairly radiant. His eyes were crinkled again and Soap didn't think he'd get over the fact that every time that look was trained on him Simon was smiling at him. 

"Time is it?" He bit back a yawn, burrowing further into Simon's chest. 

Ghost chuckled, ruffling his hair and pushing him to sit up. "Almost 0800, you've gotta get ready." 

"Fuck, I haven't slept in like that in ages." He stood, stretching his hands over his head and sighing in satisfaction as his spine popped. 

Ghost hummed, reclining back against his headboard with his hands behind his head. He looked at home in Soap's bed and the thought warmed his heart. Ghost has always been comfortable in his quarters, it felt like he belonged there. But this was a new level, Simon with no mask and a well-rested, content grin on his face was a picture Soap never wanted to forget. 

Johnny went into his bathroom to brush his teeth, stopping short once he finished as he caught an odd mark on his face. On his cheek was a small circle with a ball on it. His face flushed hot as he realized Ghost's piercing had left an imprint on his face as he slept. 

"Oi! What's this?" He ducked his head out of the bathroom, pointing at his cheek. Ghost squinted at him, leaning forward a bit before he fell back and laughed loudly. Soap ignored the pleasant tingle up his spine at the sound of joy coming from the Brit and maintained his pout. 

"You were the one smashing your face into my chest as if you wanted me to absorb ya." 

Johnny scrubbed at his cheek, hoping to rub the red mark away before he had to go out public. 

He approached Simon, poking at his forehead. "Your piercing, your fault." 

Ghost raised his hands, surrendering. "I take no responsibility for any nipple ring related casualties, Johnny." His eyes flickered down Soap's body, following the hot flush that crept down his neck and across his chest. "You like 'em, don't ya?" 

Soap reached out and flicked at the aforementioned piercing, pinching it suddenly before Ghost caught his wrist with a gasp. "Oh sensitive, aye?" Simon wouldn't meet his eye but his cheeks were pink. 

"Why would I willingly get stabbed with a needle this many times if I didn't like how it felt." He grumbled but his chest was rising faster now, affected. 

Johnny leant down and stole a kiss, deepening it as Ghost's hands found his waist. He let out a desperate moan and Soap responded with one sounding just as depraved. The grip on his middle tightened but instead of pulling him closer Ghost pushed him back. Stealing another quick kiss Simon pulled himself to his feet. 

"You can find out just how sensitive they are later. You have an appointment to make." 

Oh right, the thing he's been waiting for for over 6 weeks now. He begrudgingly turned to his closet, retrieving a clean pair of clothes. He wanted to ask Ghost when exactly they could spend time together again. In public or private, casual or heated, he didn't care. He just wanted to be around Simon. 

"What are ye needing to do today, Si?" Soap was aiming for casual but probably missed by a mile. Ghost hummed and came up behind him, slipping his hands around Johnny's middle again. 

"Paperwork, Price needs me to finish a briefing file for next week." Soap tried to hide the excited grin on his face. Ghost caught it anyway. "You're coming, don't worry." 

If Simon already knew what he was reaching for then Johnny didn't mind being far from subtle. "I'm off duty today, just got this and the PT." He wasn't going to outright ask for it though. 

"Ya saying you wanna watch me do paperwork?" Ghost pressed a kiss to the skin behind his ear. 

He blushed harder, "Just wanna be near you." 

"Hmm," Ghost's grip on his loosened as he stepped away and gathered up his clothes, pulling on his dirty tee and balaclava. "Me too. So finish getting ready, I'm gonna go shower and get dressed." Simon winked as he slipped out of his quarters. Johnny let himself deflate a bit, he was hoping to have just a few more minutes with him. He slipped on his trainers and wrestled with the sling, pulling it over his head and situating his cast in the pocket. 

As Soap slipped out of his quarters Ghost was leaving his own. The man shoved his hands in his pockets and strode towards Johnny, bumping him with his elbow. "Ready?" 

"Aye," they started walking together, arms brushing lightly as they went. When they reached the path leading towards the administrative building Ghost didn't pull away, instead continuing with Soap towards medical. 

"Don't ye need to get to work?" Ghost chuckled, knocking into Johnny's good arm. 

"Can do it later, I'm coming with you." 

"Why?" Not that Soap was complaining but he didn't know why Ghost would want to sit around and wait for him. 

Simon just shrugged. "Wanna be near you." 

Thirty minutes and a terrifying but deceptively gentle plaster saw later, Johnny was free from the goddamned cast. His arm was sickly pale and skinny. It reminded him of what he looked like before he bulked up in the military, a gangly, scrawny lad with nothing to show for himself but a handful of summary offenses. He shook off the unpleasant thought, he hated that the most random of instances reminded him of the mistakes of his past. 

Ghost stood next to him, leaning slightly on the bench as they waited for the physical therapist. 

She appeared quickly with a wide smile. "Sergeant MacTavish! So happy to see you free of that cast." 

"Aye, thank ye ma'am. Ready to get back into the field." He liked her, she was sweet and kind but never let him quit, even when it was all he wanted to do. 

"That's the plan. Knowing you, it'll happen in no time." She winked at him before looking up at Ghost, nodding in greeting. "Lieutenant Riley, to what do I owe the pleasure?" 

Ghost chuckled, patting Soap's shoulder. "Moral support. Also to find out what he needs to be doing to keep taking care of it, just in case Johnny forgets." Soap grumbles, shrugging off the hand on his shoulder and shooting Simon a look. The Brit huffed in amusement.  

"Oh, great! I can teach you some resistance exercises you could do in your down time so he can build his stamina." The therapist, he hadn't caught her name and by now it was way too late to ask, looked down at his chart. Johnny took the opportunity to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively at Ghost, stamina training. 

Simon read him immediately, smacking the back of his head. She looked at the pair of them with a puzzled expression, Ghost wasn't looking at either of them and Soap dropped his head, playfully scolded. 

"Okay, so your elbow is likely going to feel locked up for a while, the way your cast kept it bent will make straightening it painful for a while. Just leave it be for now and only extend it as far as it's comfortable okay?" Soap nodded, it felt like if he tried to straighten his arm right now it would snap right in half so he kept it tucked loosely against his middle. "Let's get to work on loosening up your wrist." She retrieved a dumbbell from the rack near them and pulled up a short stand with a wide, padded arm on the top. "I want you to rest your arm here, let your wrist hang off." Soap followed her directions and she smiled kindly at him. "Now you're going to do a circuit of movements. I'm going to have you repeat them until failure because I know you can handle that, yeah?" 

"Aye, ma'am." She smiled again. 

"Good, watch me." She held her palm turned upwards. She then curled her hand in before relaxing her wrist and returning to the starting position. "First one," she said. She then twisted her wrist, bringing her palm face down before rotating it back up. "Second one." After that she then stretched he wrist back, palm facing straight out. "And that's the last one. You're gonna cycle through all of those, okay?" 

"Easy enough," Johnny murmured, holding his hand out for the dumbbell she was holding. 

"You would think," she laughed, not unkindly. "You'll probably be pretty sore after this though, we're gonna work as hard as your body can handle to clear you for duty as soon as possible. It won't feel good." Anxiety curled in his gut, he needed to be field ready as soon as possible and the tiny pink weight in his hand felt as far from field ready as he could be. 

As she finished explaining, a nurse came up behind her and cleared his throat. 

"Dr. Ehler?" Ah, her name was Ehler. Soap repeated it in his head hoping to remember it. "Call for you." 

She patted Johnny's shoulder before heading back towards her office. "Should only be a moment. Go ahead and start cycling through those three movements, do ten of each then rest for a moment before restarting." 

"I know how to circuit weights," he growled. Johnny didn't want to be upset but before his injury he could curl twenty kilos with one hand, having to use the tiny half kilo weight made him feel feeble. Even worse that the dumbbell actually felt heavy in his palm. 

"Hey," Ghost tugged on his ear softly. "Relax, Johnny." 

"It's pink," he spat. Ghost rolled his eyes, nudging Soap's boot with his own. 

"Come off it. Tomorrow you'll move up to baby blue." Soap scoffed, bouncing the weight in his good hand as Ghost chuckled. 

"I don't like feeling weak," he mumbled. 

Simon ducked down to meet his eye, rubbing his weaker shoulder with a large palm. "I know you don't. And it won't last forever, Johnny." Ghost took Dr. Ehler's seat, spinning in the chair like an oversized child. Soap attempted the movement, it wasn't painful but it was far from comfortable. "Atta boy," Ghost murmured, looking way too fond.

Soap grumbled but still he continued, slowly curling his wrist towards him until he reached ten. Ghost twirled around in the chair again and Johnny chuckled. He stopped suddenly and jumped up, walking over to the small weight rack and plucking a 15 kilo dumbbell off of it. 

"Tae fuck are ye doin'?" 

Simon's eyes crinkled as he smiled at Johnny, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Moral support. I'll do it with you." 

Soap let a wide smile break across his face, he was so gone for this man. "First one to failure loses?" 

Ghost narrowed his eyes, Soap knew he'd never back down from a challenge like that. "And what does the winner get for their victory?" 

Johnny smiled innocently, leaning in to make sure Simon heard every whispered word. "If I win, I get to ride your face." 

Ghost almost dropped the dumbbell, eyes wide. "Fucken hell, Johnny." Soap just let his eyes drag up from Simon's feet to his eyes, taking specific notice of the pink flush barely peeking out around his eyes. "You're not making me want to win."

"Just don't pout when I fail before you do." 

Ghost rolled his eyes. "Wouldn't even see it if I was pouting." He pulled Dr. Ehler's chair up so he was sitting across the support bar from Soap, resting his left arm against it. 

"Maybe not, but I'll know it's there." He gave Ghost a cheeky grin, nudging his boot against the Brit's shin. 

"Little shit," Simon grumbled but his eyes were crinkled and amused. 

Johnny restarted going through the circuit, at first it was stiff and painful but the more he moved the easier it became. His shoulder and elbow ached but he was so determined to at least put up a good fight against Ghost. 

Ghost was, of course, handling the cycle easily. Wrist moving in fluid movements that gave Soap something to aim for. 

"So, what do you get if you win, eh?" 

Ghost chuckled, leaning in so close Johnny swore he could feel warm breath caress his ear. "If I win I'm going to edge you until the only words you know are 'Simon' and 'please'." 

Heat flushed through Soap from head to toe and he had to pinch the inside of his thigh to keep from getting hard. The look in Ghost's eyes let him know that it hadn't gone unnoticed. 

"Yer not making me wanna win either, Simon." The Brit just chuckled, pulling his leg over to rest heavily against Soap's. 

The dumbbell was heavy enough in his hand to constantly feel uncomfortable but not unbearable yet. He could feel the stretch along the entire length of his arm, both his disused muscles and surgery scars pulling tight. 

"Ya know, Johnny," Simon startled him out of his focus on the weight. "Most men want foreplay but frankly I find that wordplay can be just as arousing. I love a good mind-fuck." 

Johnny gaped at him, mouth opening and closing multiple times before he squawked, scandalized. "Ghost that is vile. Tell me more." 

Simon smirked at him, leaning forward. His eyes shifted conspicuously before he mumbled in a low, gruff voice, "I've been on top of a lot of things lately, would you like to be one of them?" 

Johnny laughed, flustered despite the absolutely terrible joke. "Yes, absolutely. What else ye got?" 

"Please don't let this go to your head, but do you want some?" 

Soap shoved at his shoulder, Ghost let him with a chuckle. "You're mad." He was completely distracted from the weight in his hands, moving fluently without any concentrated effort. 

"What time do you get off? Can I watch?" 

Johnny glared at him, biting his tongue to keep from laughing. "That's a low blow, Simon." 

His eyes were shimmering with mirth as he looked at Soap, winking and chuckling. A grimace passed over his face, so quickly Johnny would have missed it if he blinked. Suddenly he was all too aware of the tremble in his own arm. He focused harder on Ghost who was moving slower, eyes trained on the dumbbell in front of him and Soap watched the tremor grow along Ghost's forearm. 

"You're not gonna get away with letting me win, ye ken?" Johnny bit his lip with the effort. Forcing his wrist to behave when it felt like he was dragging it through honey. 

"I'm not," Simon growled, tension clear in his voice. "We've been at this for nearly forty minutes, Johnny." 

Soap whipped his head around to look at the clock and Ghost was right. Simon was such an enigma that he had distracted Johnny just by existing. He kept pushing against the weakness in his wrist, feeling his chance of victory slipping with each movement. 

"Fucken hell," Ghost groaned and Soap watched his hand tremble violently before he let it go limp, dumbbell hitting the padded floor with a dull thump. 

"An' here I thought you were flirting just to get me to lose." 

Ghost pulled his wrist to his chest, cradling his arm with what was almost surely a pout on his face. "Was to distract me as much as it was to distract you." He leant forward, just barely brushing his forehead against Johnny's. "Really wanted to hear you scream my name." 

Johnny reached failure then, wrist too exhausted and mind too focused on Ghost to continue the circuit. "Something tells me you're going to hear it anyway, Simon." 

Ghost pulled back, grinning as the door to Dr. Ehler's office opened and she rushed back towards the pair. 

"I'm so sorry! That was a mess." Dr. Ehler approached them both, hands clasped in front of her. "I take it that the lieutenant took care of you?" 

Soap fought the flush rising to his cheeks at the accidental double entendre. "Yes, ma'am. Always does." 

Dr. Ehler smiled at him and reached out to pat Ghost's arm. "Good man, thank you sir. Just let me check you out, John. As long as there's no sprain or over-extension then we'll be good for the day and go back to it tomorrow." She checked his wrist carefully, ensuring there was no strain, before she let him tuck it back into the sling and they were heading out of medical. 

Instead of returning to the barracks Johnny followed Ghost to the admin building. They walked side by side, fingers brushing lightly and every touch of Simon's gloved hand ignited a spark in Soap's gut. 

They made it almost the entire way to Simon's office without interruption. But Gaz caught them turning the corner and he was never one to leave Soap be without some kind of playful jeer. 

"Why'd'ya have a shadow, Ghost?" 

Johnny scowled, ready to throw a snarky remark at Gaz but Simon stopped him by slapping a hand on his shoulder. "Medical gave him the good shit before PT. I'm on babysitting duty to make sure he doesn't go streaking through base." 

Gaz made a loud gagging noise before laughing at Soap's offended "Oi!" 

"Have fun with that," he nodded his goodbye and continued on towards Price's office. 

"Could'a picked some other reason than I'm too high to function." Soap grumbled, crossing his arms. 

Ghost chuckled, "How else ya gonna explain to everyone why you're following me around an' staring at me with those big doe eyes? Figured they'll just assume you're flying high with that look on your face," he brushed Soap's cheek softly with a loose fist and Johnny smiled. 

"Bastard." 

Ghost's eyes crinkled. "I know." 

He followed Simon to his office, helping him collect a pile of documents and his laptop before they retired to the lieutenant's room. 

Soap had never been into Ghost's quarters before last night. He had expected it to be bare, utilitarian and strictly to military standards. But instead he was surprised with hints of Simon everywhere. A hoodie thrown on the back of his desk chair, small trinkets and books on his dresser, a soft knitted blanket on his bed. Ghost dropped the files on his desk, taking his laptop from Soap and booting it up. 

"Go lie down, take a nap if you want and I'll wake ya when I'm done." Johnny wanted to protest but he was sore and genuinely tired. A nap sounded nice, even better that it would be in Ghost's room, in Ghost's bed, and that the Brit would be joining him in it later. 

"Kiss first," Soap whined, grabbing at Simon's arm to pull him closer. 

Ghost's eyes crinkled as he pulled off the mask, revealing the smile Soap knew was there. He ducked down and placed a soft, chaste kiss on Johnny's lips. He swayed closer but Ghost pulled away with a smirk. 

"Bed. Rest. Now." 

Soap grumbled as he pulled off the sling and yanked his shirt over his head. He unbuttoned his trousers and let them pool around his feet before collapsing on top of Simon's bed. It smelled like him. 

Ghost groaned somewhere behind him. "Get under the fucking blanket and stop trying to tempt me into bed." 

Johnny laughed as he obeyed, "Worth a shot." 

Ghost shuffled around the room, turning on a small speaker and letting soft music flow into the room. Soap dozed to the quiet sounds of papers shuffling and a keyboard clicking. 

When Johnny woke up the room was bathed in late afternoon light. His arm was sore but even then it felt infinitely better than when he first got hurt. Ghost was still working and Soap took the opportunity to look his fill. He was calm, focused, nearly through the stack of papers he had brought with him. 

Soap let him know he was awake by complaining. "My wrist hurts." 

Ghost swiveled around in his chair, face softening at Johnny's sleepy state. "Poor thing, how on earth are you going to take care of yourself?" 

Johnny grinned, "Dunno. Might have to ask someone for some help." 

"I'm almost done," Simon picked up a few sheets of paper and flipped through them. He flicked his eyes up to Soap. "You can wait." 

He whined, throwing his head into the pillows and arching his back. He wanted nothing more than Ghost's hands on him right the fuck now. 

Simon simply smiled, turning back to his desk. "Patience, love. Behave." Johnny's cock jumped at the commanding tone of his lieutenant's voice. He was never again going to be able to hear Ghost give him an order without getting hard. 

Soap stood, coming up behind Ghost and leaning over to rest his chin on his shoulder. "C'mon Si, you were able to multitask before. Working on reports while I was wrapped around your finger, ye could do it again." 

Simon laughed and reached up to card his fingers through Johnny's hair. "That was just a flight training itinerary. I didn't even attend." 

"You were doing grunt work?" Soap was aiming for indignation but Ghost's face, Ghost's playful, pretty, smiling face, made that impossible. 

Simon dropped the paper he was holding and stood to face Johnny. "Do you really think I could have focused on anything at all with you so close to me? Looking like you did? Sounding like you did?" Something dark and hungry replaced the playfulness in Simon's eyes. He ducked his head down, nosing along Soap's throat and placing soft kisses on his skin. Ghost walked him backwards slowly, hand on his lower back to guide him. 

"You made a good show of pretending," Johnny gasped as Simon bit into his neck, laving his tongue against the mark. 

"You were driving me crazy, Johnny. Begging for me so pretty like that. So desperate. So obedient. You didn't have to be, but you were so good for me, sweetheart." 

The praise crashed through Soap like a wave and his knees buckled, sending him back down on Simon's bed. Ghost followed, pushing, pushing, pushing until he was laid out flat with Ghost's solid and warm weight blanketing him. 

"I believe you won today, would you like to take that reward?" 

Words escaped him as Simon ground his hips down. He nodded but the other man just shot him a look. "Y-yes. Please." 

Ghost rolled off of him, settling on his back next to Soap. He shoved a pillow under his head and looked at Johnny expectantly. 

"Well? Come and take it."

Chapter Text

Come and take it. 

Johnny was a dead man. He survived this whole time only to die at the hands of Simon fucking Riley. 

Soap realized that at some point Ghost had changed, now wearing sweats and the shirt Johnny had stolen from him the night before. He tapped at the S. Riley over his chest. "Thought this was mine now?" 

Ghost hummed, stretching out languidly next to him. "It is. Figured you wanted it to smell like me though, yeah?" 

Soap did. Wanted it to smell like Ghost after a workout, after sex even, musky and sweaty and Simon. But he really didn't want to give Ghost the satisfaction of a response. Instead he watched a tiny sliver of skin appear at his stomach, Soap wanted to bite him, mark him. 

He only realized he was staring when Ghost slipped his fingers into the waistband of his briefs, letting the elastic snap back against his skin. "Don't get shy on me now, Johnny." 

"I'll show you shy," he growled. In three quick moves he was stark naked and straddling Ghost's chest, cock hard and flushed between his pecs. Simon's eyes were wide, raking up and down Soap's body in burning trails. "You've seen me before, s'nothing new." 

Ghost laughed, incredulous. "Never all of you. Never like this." He gripped Johnny's hips, thumbs rubbing soft circles into his skin. "Beautiful boy." 

Drowning underneath the sudden feeling of something quite deeper than lust, Johnny dipped down to kiss him. He dug his fingers underneath Ghost's shirt and fit his fingers along the perfect lines of his collarbones. He felt an insane thrill at the chance to touch Ghost like this. Every opportunity he got to touch his stoic soldier further solidified that he meant something to Simon. 

The Brit nipped at his lip, eyes dark and hungry. "C'mon darling. Let me taste you." He pushed and pulled at Johnny's hips until he was kneeling over Simon's head. He jumped as teeth grazed his inner thigh, goosebumps raising in Ghost's path. Johnny jolted again as he felt the ball on Simon's tongue drag lazily up the length of his cock. 

"Been drooling to get you in my mouth since I first saw your pretty little cock." 

Soap groaned. "S'not little," he couldn't help the petulant whine in his voice. 

"It's not." Seeing Simon between his thighs was enough but with that devil's grin it was even worse. "But you liked that I said that." 

"Maybe." How Ghost knew how to push his buttons was a mystery but Soap had plenty of his own buttons to push. "C'mon Si, touch me." He whined high in his throat and got the desired reaction of Ghost's fingers clenching tightly on his hips. He nearly lifted Johnny completely and before he could even catch his balance Ghost's tongue was flicking teasingly over his hole. 

Simon's arms slid up to wrap around his thighs and hold him down. Soap squirmed, testing the Brit's hold on him. Ghost only allowed him to grind down, any other movement was impeded by strong hands on his hips and forearms barred across his thighs. He whimpered as the Brit pushed and licked until his tongue slipped inside him easily. 

Simon's mouth was obscene, Johnny told him as such and received a pleased hum in reply that sent shockwaves across his entire body. Ghost hands slid down his hips and over his ass, grabbing handfuls and exposing Soap in the most immodest way. 

"Sim-shit. Simon, please!" Ghost hummed again and trailed a hand down further to his hole, keeping him spread open. A flash of teeth against his most sensitive skin wrenched a tight keen from Soap's lungs. 

"Ready for more, love?" 

"Yes. God yes." He was rewarded with two fingers that slipped inside easily, slicked by spit. Johnny's hand found the mussed curls on top of Simon's head as he rocked back onto the intrusion. Ghost groaned and dove in again, spreading his fingers to lick inside Soap. His piercing caught on Johnny's rim and he nearly sobbed in pleasure. 

Johnny was begging for more, unaware of the filth spilling out of his lips and Simon worked at him. Ghost complied with another finger and his teasing fizzled out completely, need and urgency taking its place. 

"Please fuck me. Please." Ghost huffed a laugh into his skin. He placed light, nipping kisses along Soap's thighs as he ensured he was ready. 

He took advantage of Johnny's quivering thighs and pitched him sideways onto his back. Soap landed with an oof and a petulant noise that he let Simon kiss away. Ghost was still fully dressed and Johnny felt an electric thrill at the slide of cotton against the sensitive skin of his thighs. 

"C'mon, Simon. Need you." Ghost growled against his lips, cock trapped in his sweats as he rutted against the apex of Soap's legs. 

"Not yet, Johnny. You're missing something." 

Soap looked up at him, confused and Ghost merely smirked. He pitched himself up, hushing Soap's impatient whine and pulled his shirt off. "You said you'd put it back on." 

"You're a fucken weapon," he chuckled fondly, pulling Simon's shirt from the man's grasp. 

"You promised," Ghost pouted and Soap could only melt and shower his playfully crestfallen face with quick kisses. 

"Don't you ever pull that face on me in public. You'll end up with whatever you want." He slipped the soft cotton over his head and Simon hummed approvingly as his claim of ownership wrapped around Johnny's chest. 

"So if I pulled 'this face' when I asked you to walk around on base wearing this after I fuck you stupid in it, you would?" Ghost's grin was feral, possessive. 

"Fuck me stupid already and you'll find out," he hissed, pulling Simon by the nape of his neck to settle back over him. If Ghost asked him later, and meant it, he would. If only to see the same greedy hunger in his eyes as he saw right now. 

The Brit groaned in approval, pushing his sweats down and off as he knelt between Soap's thighs. "Last chance to back out, Johnny. Once I have you I'm not going to let you go." 

Soap tried to blink back the sudden warmth that brought tears to his eyes. He trailed his fingers down Ghost's neck, pressing his palm flat against his racing heart. "You've had me, since before I even knew."

"That's my boy," and with that loving praise, Simon pushed forward. 

The stretch was decadent. A spoil of pleasure Johnny had never known, not truly. A moan rumbled out of his chest as Ghost kept pressing inside, unrelenting. He jolted once as he felt the drag of the first piercing sliding in, followed by four consecutive jolts as the rest followed. 

"You okay?" Ghost panted as he smoothed a hand down Soap's heaving chest. 

"Yess," he hissed. "Piercings." 

Simon laughed and pulled back to let the five barbells catch against his rim again. "Feel good, baby?" 

Soap could only groan in answer, both at the sweet name and the feel of Ghost pushing back inside. He scratched trails down the Brit's back, trying to smother a tiny wince as his sore wrist suddenly made itself known again. 

Simon, of course, noticed immediately. He delicately captured Soap's weaker hand and pulled it up to cradle his face. "Don't hurt yourself, princess. Hurt me instead." Johnny slapped at his cheek lightly, playfully, not even close to hard enough to hurt. Ghost's eyes darkened, "That better have been a promise for when your strength is back." 

The mental image of slapping Simon across the face made Johnny's dick twitch violently and the Brit smirked. "If you want it to be," he moaned, delivering another weak slap to his lieutenant's face. The idea thrilled him. 

Ghost groaned, burying his face in Soap's neck as he rutted into him. His hands dug bruises into his skin as he brutalized his neck with savage teeth. 

"You won't break me, Sir. Fuck me." He arched his back to press himself further into Ghost's chest and he responded in kind. He thrust harshly, pulling sharp and choked off noises from Soap's throat. Ghost was everywhere. 

But then…he wasn't. Johnny whimpered pitifully as Simon pulled out and sat back on his heels. He pawed at him uselessly, but Ghost only smirked and cooed at his pathetic attempt. He trapped one of Ghost's wrists with both of his, pulling pathetically. 

"Siiiimon, you felt so good. Come back." 

"Turn over for me, baby. You think that felt good…" 

Soap relinquished his grip on Ghost's arm, letting him flip his loose and pliant body onto his stomach and position him how he'd like. "Why does that sound like a threat?" 

Ghost chuckled darkly behind him, spreading the globes of Johnny's ass to look down at his abused hole. "Because it is one. Wanna make you cum on my cock alone." 

Soap shuddered violently as Ghost aggressively and teasingly rubbed his cock head against his hole, catching on his rim. "Can- I can do that, Sir. Fuck." 

Ghost snarled and blanketed him entirely, resting on one elbow as he slipped back inside with a harsh thrust. Tears sprung to Johnny's eyes, the angle was deep and Simon's piercings glided across his prostate like the filthiest massage. Ghost caged him in and fucked down brutally, every inch of him touching every inch of Soap. 

"Look so good with my name on you. Look like mine, baby. You're mine, right?" 

Soap whimpered, he didn't know if he wanted to scramble away from the too much or push back into the not enough. "Yours. Always yours, even when I didn't know it." Ghost's forehead pressed between his shoulder blades as he keened high in his throat, hips stuttering. 

"Feel so good. So perfect for me, Johnny." Simon was whispering in his ear, sending wave after wave of heat down Soap's spine. "Feels like I was made to take care of you." 

Soap was reduced to shuddering, weak sobs as Ghost pushed him to the edge of devastation. He was ruined for anyone else, Simon was the only one who had ever, who could ever, make him feel like this. 

"Simon! I'm gonna-" Ghost responded with a brutal thrust, grinding his pelvis to dust and Soap was lost. He came with a shout, turning his head to capture Simon's lips in an uncoordinated and terribly messy kiss. When Ghost pulled back Soap could have cum again, he knew he could have. The rapturous look on his face, the gorgeous pink flush high on his cheeks flooding down to his neck and chest. 

"Gonna- fuck Johnny." All of Ghost sense of rhythm was lost, rutting animalistically into Soap's worn out body. Johnny encased both of Simon's hands in his, locking their fingers together as Ghost groaned into the nape of his neck. 

He found his release with a long, decadent groan half-smothered by Simon's teeth locking into his shoulder. Soap cried out weakly and shuddered around him as he rode out the blissful waves. The fabric of his own shirt was the only thing preventing Ghost's teeth from breaking his skin. It would be a nasty bruise and Soap wouldn't have wanted anything less. 

They lay there, unmoving, unwilling to shatter the golden oasis that they'd found in a barracks room in the middle of a base neither one could call home unless the other was there. 

"Perfect, Johnny. Just…perfect." Simon collected him into his arms, a move Johnny would have found annoying if he wasn't so happy right now. He pulled out gently and situated them on their sides, face to face. They shared lazy, breathless kisses in the dark blue of the early evening. The low light casting an ethereal glow around them. 

Simon chuckled and pulled back to smile at Johnny. His eyes were soft with something unnamed but known, yet to be acknowledged but still understood between them both. Soap didn't doubt his eyes reflected the same love. That beautiful smile slid into a playful smirk. 

"What?" 

"Think we saved a horse with that, cowboy?" 

Soap's brain blue-screened, utterly lost on what the actual fuck Ghost was talking about. The Brit cocked an eyebrow at him, a barely concealed chuckle rumbling in his chest. Suddenly the joke clicked. 

"You fucking weapon." Soap smothered Ghost's gleeful laughter with a kiss. He pulled back to see the joy in Simon's eyes one more time, then went back in for another one, just because he could.