Chapter Text
Snowflakes came down in clustered flurries, covering the world in a thick blanket of white. The training field was coated in the soft, delicate snow, forcing the men to clear it before they could begin daily training. Soap was wrapped tightly in every warm article he could dig from the confines of his closet, yet it still wasn’t enough to keep out winter’s icy chill. He pulled the scarf around his neck ever tighter to his skin as he surveyed the group of recruits before him. Their exercising allowed their bodies to muster up enough heat to avoid the frigid air around them, but the others weren’t so lucky. He rubbed his frozen hands together, blowing into them with all the hot air he could manage.
Soap wanted nothing more than to head back inside and catch a hot shower with some steaming coffee, but they still had another twenty minutes of training. Price had placed him in charge of the group after his stunt the other day of creating a makeshift bomb from an old phone battery. It hadn’t set off, but it definitely wasn’t as stable as the ones he’d made previously. It was the coldest day of the month, and the sergeant risked frostbite for his lack of foresight. “Alright, rookies! We’re going to finish up with four laps around the field. Once you’re done, you are free to return inside.” Many of the men and women before him cheered at the prospect of heat. He could only hope they were motivated enough to hurry their asses up so he could join them.
He was positioned to time their scores and ensure everyone was up to par in the endurance department. It’s no joke how seriously Price took everyone’s physical health. “Even a single second is the difference between life and death.” The man would say it like a mantra, causing a short huff from the Scot. The recruits shot off at the sound of his pistol, sprinting with their last burst of energy despite the rigorous training previously. He watched as they made mad dashes along the field, trying to one-up each other quickly. It reminded him fondly of his younger days, bright-eyed and eager to prove himself to the higher-ups. He felt a presence slink up beside him and smiled slightly.
“Good batch, these ones. Wouldn’t you agree, Lt?” The lieutenant made a quiet hum of agreement, allowing them to watch in silence after. Ghost was a comforting presence for him, despite the man’s attempts to be intimidating and fearsome to others. Even when Soap first met the giant of a man, he wasn’t necessarily afraid of the man; he felt more in awe at the sight of him. Ghost was an enormous figure, standing at 6’4, with a mysterious past and an even more mysterious identity. He was honored for the short glimpse behind the mask he’d been offered all those months ago back in Las Almas, but he found himself carving more. He wished to know the man deeper and would gladly accept anything he was offered.
“Those two in the middle are a bit cocky; you might want to watch for them.” Ghost’s deep, commanding voice sent shockwaves down Johnny’s spine. He glanced down the field, catching sight of the two recruits playfully nudging each other to throw their friend off. He missed the easy, carefree spirit that came with being a rookie. Before you experienced the hardships of war and truly knew what it meant to run for your life. “They’re fine; if anything, they’re making it harder on themselves.”
“Still, they need to know when to mess around and when to take this training seriously. If you don’t say anything, I will.” He knew the lieutenant was right, so he cupped his icy hands around his mouth and shouted at the recruits. “Ay, you two! Stop fucking around and focus on your laps!” The two recruits in question tripped over themselves from the sudden call out, but quickly righted themselves. Ghost made a hum of praise, staring out with watchful eyes again. Soap rubbed his hands together, blowing another puff of warm air into them. The lieutenant glanced over at him with a raised brow.
“Cold there, Johnny?” The sergeant heaved a deep sigh, shoving his hands under his armpits in an attempt to warm them. “Aye, couldn’t find any gloves. Freezing my arse off out here.” Ghost hummed quietly, looking away at the field for a moment before turning to the man. “Show me your hands.” His voice was slightly softer than usual, shocking him enough to face the Brit completely. His ice-cold hands were moved into gloved ones, Ghost’s fingers carefully running over them to warm them. After a few seconds, he was still trembling from the cold.
“Sorry, Lt, no dice. Thanks for trying, though.” The Brit’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he removed his hands from the others. Within seconds, the man carefully pulled off the pair of gloves, exposing his pale skin beneath. “Here.” He murmured, taking the Scot’s hands in his once more to begin putting them on. “Oh! Sir, you don’t have to do that.” He tried to pull his hand back, but the masked man’s grip was firm and true. He ignored his protest and settled the gloves onto his hands, instantly warming the Scot up. “Nonsense, I can’t have you getting frostbite.”
His face flushed slightly, rubbing his now gloved hands together. “So, you do like me?” He held a teasing smirk, mimicking the phrase he had said all those months ago in Las Almas. Ghost rolled his eyes, turning back out to watch the recruits. Soap smiled to himself, looking down at the warm gloves and feeling his heart warm with them.