Work Text:
Soap suppressed his smug little smile when Price choked down the last of his food, shooting the man a faux nervous look as he awaited the captain’s verdict. He took a moment to blow out a slow breath, blinking away what suspiciously looked like tears before shooting Soap a smile that looked just a touch too strained at the corners, “That was wonderful lad. Thanks for cooking us dinner.”
The wide smile that took over the sergeant’s face was far more genuine, practically lighting up the room and soothing everyone’s protesting stomachs. See, it was a little-known fact among the 141 that Soap couldn’t cook. He tried his darndest for them, but he just could not do it. The only reason any of them put up with it – and didn’t ban him from the kitchen – was because he was always so hopeful and excited to share his meals with them and they were all far too soft for him.
What was a lesser-known fact – and that means only Soap knew – was that Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish was actually a fantastic cook. He would never toot his own horn and say he was the best in the 141, but he’d definitely say he was fairly good at it. None of the 141 knew of it because he was, unfortunately, extremely petty and held a grudge like nobody’s business.
They had decided that they were going to take nights to cook food for the team – some form of team bonding as Price had said – and when it was Soap’s turn to cook Gaz had made some fun and said he probably didn’t know anything outside of blowing things up. Now Soap was fine with it, it was nothing outside of their usual banter so he didn’t mind the jab too much.
But then Price had laughed and said something of the same sort and then Ghost had joined in, and Johnny just couldn’t accept that. So, he had cooked a meal that barely passed as edible and served it with some choice words that belied his earlier bravado, hiding the amused smile when everyone took the first bite and froze.
Was it manipulative to use the soft spot he knew they all had for him against them? Yes. Did he care when they made fun of him before even knowing his skillset? No, he couldn’t say he did. So, it continued like that, Johnny making food that barely passed as edible and lighting up when his team still said it was good when he knew for a fact that it wasn’t.
It had gone from some petty revenge to something a little more selfish, affection and pride feeding off of the positive compliments and knowledge that his team would go that far for him. Because knowing they’d take a bullet for him without hesitation was a different sort of rush to knowing they’d readily eat bad food without complaint just to please him. It just tickled a part of his brain that he didn’t know about before now.
Gaz was the next to finish, plate half finished and face regretful as he looked toward his friend, “That’s delicious Soap but I’m stuffed.”
Soap nodded, waving off Gaz’s concern and beginning to collect everyone’s plates, chattering away all the while, “’M glad you guys liked it. My ma sent me the recipe a few days ago and told me to share it with my friends. Told her you lot would love it.”
Johnny was lying through his teeth, but seeing the way everyone smiled at him in response was enough to finally break that little petty streak in him. He smiled widely, taking the dishes to the sink before turning to everyone with a hopeful grin, “I got this other thing I wanna try out. Is it cool if I make breakfast tomorrow?”
He could see the slight twitch to everyone’s mouths, the instant want to frown at such an offer being quickly stifled in favour of wide smiles and eager nods, “Why not?”
Soap felt the way his grin softened, nodding once before turning away from everyone, allowing them their moment to silently freak out and probably make their escapes to find some better food or something. If he wasn’t purposely fucking the food up he would probably be a little offended they did it so often, but as it stood he didn’t really care.
After a while there was a clatter of cutlery against an empty plate, one last chair scuffing against the floor as the usually silent Lieutenant made his way toward Soap. The sergeant continued tidying up, letting Ghost place his empty plate down before glancing toward the man with a small grin, “How was that Lt?”
The Brit looked at him for a long moment before grunting, leaning down to kiss the side of his head gently before speaking against his hair, “Better than last time sergeant.”
Johnny absolutely beamed with the praise, almost bouncing on his heels as he began to chatter away about the plans he had for breakfast. Ghost didn’t say anything else in response, leaning back on the counter and picking up a tea towel once Johnny had finished washing the first dish. It was horribly domestic considering their profession and the place of living at the moment but neither seemed to mind much, merely basking in the rare moment of peace they had been granted. Soap couldn’t wait to cook the man some actual good food for once, he was also excited to see everyone else’s reaction.
~~~~~
The others had been sitting at the table for a while now, all of them nervously watching as Soap finished up the pancakes and placed them on the table, “Eat up boys, it’s a family recipe.”
As usual, Ghost was the first one to move, taking a couple and plating them before basically drowning them in syrup. Price and Gaz followed after another moment, the latter breaking off a small bit to eat plain as if to test how he would mask the taste this time.
Johnny watched him with a small smile, chewing on his own pancake as he awaited the inevitable reaction. The slight grimace in Gaz’s face switched to visible confusion, the man taking a bigger chunk from the pancake and eating it with a little more vigour this time around. The Scot chuckled softly when wide brown eyes turned toward him, the man speaking through a mouth full of food, “You son of a bitch.”
That set the sergeant off, his quiet laugh turning into a full-blown, belly one as the other two turned to look at them. Gaz was now furiously taking another bite of the pancake, pointing toward him with the mix of a smile and glare on his face, “I hate you so much. How could you make us suffer through months of barely tolerable food when you could make food this good?”
Price was the next one to react, quickly eating a chunk of plain pancake before glaring at him from across the table, “You better explain yourself right now sergeant.”
Soap would have felt more threatened by the words if he wasn’t watching his captain continuing to eat the food he had made. So as it stood he merely leant back in his chair, a smug smile plastered on his face as he shrugged, “You know how I am captain. You can’t honestly tell me you’re surprised after all these years?”
The sergeant pasted on a fake pout, cracking a moment later when Price rolled his eyes hard enough that Johnny was afraid he was about to lose his eyes, “You’re fucking unbelievable.”
Despite his words the captain continued eating, taking the syrup away from a frozen Ghost and pouring a little over his own. Johnny huffed a fond sigh as he looked at the man, getting up and swapping their plates as he kissed the man’s cheek gently, “Here you are mo ghràdh.”
He knew Simon hated sweet things but had been trying to compensate for the horrible flavours in Johnny’s cooking, more unwilling to hurt Johnny’s feelings than he was to eat something so packed with sugar. It warmed the sergeant's heart to an almost ridiculous degree, smile wide as he also gave the man a cup with his favourite tea, a little compensation for also subjecting his lover to the food.
Gaz saw this but was wise enough to not speak on it, merely glaring lightly as he took the plate of syrup away and began eating those. Where Ghost hated sweet things Gaz was the complete opposite, with a sweet tooth that could rival a child’s.
When Ghost finally looked up at him he could see he was going to pay for his little revenge plot later, though he found himself not really caring when he could also see the fond amusement in the man’s eyes. The blond finally pulled his mask up, over his mouth, revealing the small grin he held before he was leaning up and kissing the underside of Johnny’s jaw.
“Thank you love.” Soap could light up a room with how brightly he smiled at those words, the sight of them making Price huff in fond exasperation while Gaz made over-exaggerated retching noises. The Scot didn’t even bother looking when he flipped his friend off, making his way back to his seat and settling in so he could eat his own breakfast.
It all felt horribly domestic again, the four of them eating breakfast around a dining table as if they weren’t to be sent out to kill people at any moment, joking and ribbing one another like they were sitting inside a normal house and living out their days. It was strange but Johnny found he enjoyed it, content to sit with his strange little family and pretend as if everything was normal.