Chapter Text
Soap can't sleep. There isn't a particular reason he can't, but laying in bed with his eyes closed is clearly not doing anything to help. It’s a restlessness he can’t seem to shake, so he gives it another five minutes before he finally swings his legs over the edge of his bed.
"A smoke it is, then." Soap grumbles as he pulls on some joggers and a loose jumper. He grabs his cigs and lighter from where they lay on his desk, stashing them in his pockets as he steps into his boots. He doesn't bother to lace them as he steps out into the dimly lit hallway of the barracks.
He's hoping to get to the building's rooftop to avoid anyone on patrol, but just as Soap rounds the corner that leads to the stairwell, a familiar aroma stops him in his tracks.
It's a warm, inviting smell that reminds Soap of his days as a lad following his mam around their kitchen, hoping to sample her biscuits or breads before the rest of his siblings.
Cookies? Soap finally narrows it down, and the scent only gets stronger as he approaches the doorway that leads to the small kitchen located on the 141's side of the barracks.
Saying he's surprised is an understatement when Soap’s eyes land on the massive form of Ghost bent in front of the oven. He watches as the Brit gingerly sets a hot tray of a dozen or so perfectly baked chocolate chip cookies on the counter to cool, before sliding another tray into the oven.
"You're up late, sergeant." Ghost calls over his shoulder, pulling off his oven mitts and tossing them onto the counter next to the cookies.
"How'd you know it was me!?” Soap tries not to sound too startled, but he feels like a lad who's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
Oh. How appropriate.
"Hmm, that's not important." Ghost responds. Ever the enigma.
Soap watches from the doorway as Ghost turns to face him. The man sports one of his more casual balaclavas with the jaw bone nearly faded into the black fabric. He's also clad in a black thermal, sleeves rolled up his elbows, and joggers, but Soap's eyes zero in on the dusting of flour along the lower half of his shirt. That pretty much confirms the cookies are made from scratch.
The two men stare at each other before Soap finally breaks the silence.
"So…you bake?"
Another beat of silence passes between the two.
"Yes, I do."
Wow. Soap didn't think Ghost would admit to that so readily. He never would have thought the widely feared lieutenant of the 141 would be into such a mundane hobby as baking.
By the smell of it, Ghost was damn good at it too.
"Are you gonna stand there all night, or do you want to try one of these? You'll just have to wait a couple more minutes for them to cool."
Soap is surprised at the sudden offer, but he recovers quickly before quietly walking the rest of the way into the kitchen. He sits at the small table, watching Ghost as he pulls another tray of a dozen balls of cookie dough from the fridge before setting it on the counter.
"That's a lot of cookies, Lt." Soap quips from his seat, watching as Ghost tests the temperature of the cookies he pulled from the oven earlier. He can hear the man mumbling about 'still too warm' and 'really should get a cookie rack'. Soap almost thinks he was ignored until Ghost responds.
"I don't normally make this much. It's usually a baker's dozen, but I was restless tonight so I decided to make more. I leave'm here for everyone, but by the time I come by late morning they're pretty much all gone."
"What!? I've been missing out on cookies that aren't rock hard and packed in an MRE?!" Soap laments, knows that Gaz is probably the culprit who takes more than he should. He has a horribly hidden sweet tooth.
"Aye, well, looks like you've run into a bit of luck, Johnny." Ghost chuckles as he makes his way over to the empty seat at the table.
God, does Soap love the deep timbre of Ghost’s laugh.
"Well, I guess having some cookies is loads better than smoking a cig or two outside." Soap grins, but it falters slightly when he catches Ghost giving him a peculiar look.
"Why are you up this late, anyways?" Ghost finally asks, leaning back in his chair as his eyes settle on Soap seated across from him.
Soap should have expected that line of questioning, but he doesn’t have anything to hide.
"Ah, well…" Soap can't help but rub the back of his head bashfully, knowing the reason for his nighttime excursion really isn't a great one. "Ya probably won't believe me, but I just couldn't sleep. I tried just layin' in bed with my eyes closed, but no luck. I was actually on my way to the roof for a smoke when I found you in the kitchen."
He could have propped a window open in his room and had his smoke that way, but something about climbing up to the roof late at night worked better to settle his mind. Soap shrugs his shoulders and leans back into his chair as well, watching Ghost nod his head slightly. Seemingly satisfied with his answer.
"Can't fault you for that. Your reason is as good as mine. I found that baking’s been a good outlet for my restless energy. When I have the time it's the only thing that actually helps."
Soap is a little surprised at Ghost's honesty, but he can see where the man is coming from. How a hobby can help calm down racing thoughts and hands that itch to just do something. That makes Soap think about his sketchbook, but before he can respond about his own hidden hobby, Ghost is out of his seat at the sudden sound of a timer going off. He goes to pull the second tray of cookies out, immediately replacing it with the last tray.
The aroma of hot cookies that escapes the oven envelops the small kitchen, and Soap can't help it when his mouth waters. He watches as Ghost rummages around the cabinets for a plate, transferring the first batch of cookies to the plate he eventually finds before bringing them over to the table.
"Well, you get first dibs." Ghost sets the plate down on the table between them.
Soap doesn't need to be told twice, picking up a cookie from the offered plate and taking a comically large bite. It takes all his self-control not to let out an utterly debauched moan. The cookie is still slightly warm, chocolate chips still soft from the heat. It practically melts in his mouth.
"Lt, this is fuckin' fantastic!" Soap talks over his mouthful. Once he swallows the first bite, he immediately pops the last half of the cookie in his mouth, and he can't help the small satisfied sigh that escapes him.
"Glad you like 'em. They could've used a tad more brown sugar, but they're still good."
Soap hadn't realized Ghost had sampled a cookie himself, so caught up in his own musings. He tries not to stare outright at the exposed lower portion of Ghost's face.
Soap wouldn't deny his infatuation with his Lieutenant. Ever since the debacle with Hassan and Shephard, his feelings have only grown for his superior, but he's kept them close to his heart out of respect for Ghost and their friendship. It's just really to keep his feelings bottled up sometimes. Especially now, when Soap's eyes focus on a small smudge of chocolate on the corner of Ghost's mouth.
What I would t give to lick that off… Soap's mind traitorously thinks, but his body does one better.
Without a second thought, Soap reaches his hand out and swipes the chocolate away before licking it off his finger. Almost immediately Soap freezes when he realizes what he's done.
Oh, fuck!
Soap tries not to take in Ghost's shocked expression. He's been around the man long enough to know what that looks like under the mask.
“Ah…you had a little…something there…” Soap chuckles nervously, motioning with a finger to the same spot on his own face. What he wouldn't give for the floor to open up and swallow him whole at that moment. Instead, Soap grabs another cookie and shoves the whole thing into his mouth, a great way to keep his mouth from getting him into even more trouble.
You've done it now, you fuckin' numpty. Ghost probably thinks you're a weirdo, probably more than he already does. You've ruined it! Ruined it! He mentally berates himself.
Soap can't fathom losing their banter over comms. Losing some of the only physical contact he gets from Ghost when they sit close to each other during transport and after exfil. Soap would rather keep his silly little crush a secret than lose the closeness he's nurtured with Ghost.
"Hmmm…"
That familiar sound pulls Soap from his racing thoughts. He forces himself to look at the Ghost, and the sight is a bit surprising. Ghost doesn't look mad or spooked. On the contrary, he seems a little bashful and something else Soap can't quite place. Until he does.
There's a little bit of playful mischief gleaming in Ghost's dark eyes.
"You've got a little somethin' there yourself." Ghost points out, and before Soap can even process those words, he feels a gentle pressure swiping across the corner of his lip. Soap’s eyes lock on to Ghost's tongue as it darts out to lick his finger clean of chocolate.
Whaa— Soap takes in a surprised breath, brain short-circuiting as his world turns upside down, and then he promptly starts choking on the half-chewed cookie in his mouth. He splutters over the mouthful, trying and failing to take in a breath until some firm pats to his back help him take in some much-needed air.
"Take it easy! My cookies are good, but not good enough to die for." Ghost chuckles as Soap recovers enough to shoot the man a glare from where he's hunched over, trying to gather his breath. There's no heat to the look, but seeing Ghost look carefree and relaxed makes Soap almost forget having choked in the first place.
"Thanks…" Soap manages to say, well aware that Ghost still has a hand on his back. It makes him feel impossibly warm, and Soap damn well knows Ghost can see the blush spreading across his cheeks, but he can't bring himself to care with the man so close.
It makes Soap want to do something stupid. He's starting to think that maybe his feelings aren't so unrequited. It's either that or Soap is too far gone for this masked man that can clear an enemy base on his own and bake a damn good cookie.
Fuck it. Soap thinks.
"Simon," the name falls easily from Soap's lips, even though he doesn't use it often.
Ghost's attention immediately on him, and Soap can feel Ghost's hand shift from where it was between his shoulders to cup the back of his neck. The air between them feels charged with anticipation, like a damn ready to burst, but before Soap can say anything a familiar sound beeps into the space of the kitchen.
Perfect timing for the last batch of cookies to finish baking, and just like that the moment is lost.
Ghost steps away from Soap, yanking his mask down as he goes to pull out the last tray of cookies from the oven.
Maybe...this is for the best. Soap sullenly thinks as he watches Ghost work in silence. Watches as he plates up the previous batch of cookies, opening up some drawers until he finds some plastic wrap to lay over and secure the baked goods. Soap is very surprised when Ghost returns to where he's seated, offering him the whole plate.
"Here. Since you've missed out all this time, it's only fair you get a dozen to yourself."
Soap doesn't protest as he takes the plate from Ghost's hands.
"Aww, I think you're playing favorites, Lt!" Soap can't help but tease, trying to restore the light and playful atmosphere from before. That earns him an eye roll from Ghost.
"Don't push your luck. Or the next batch of cookies I give you will be oatmeal and raisin." Ghost threatens, although his mask hides his amused smile at the disgusted look on Soap’s face.