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It had been a painfully long mission, and yet it still wasn't over, not yet. They were stuck on this freezing cold mountain until the following morning, because apparently the conditions made it impossible for a chopper to get in to them until they cleared. Thankfully there was a safehouse on the mountain, and only an hour's hike away from where they had been. Soap wasn't sure he would have survived a trip much longer than that.
The two of them had dealt with the mission shockingly smoothly, AQ had seemed very surprised to see them, and even then, not for long, because they had dropped dead soon after. He and Ghost made a good team, and it was the one small mercy that it felt Soap had been granted on this trip.
The wind was picking up as they approached the safehouse, and the graze on his leg where a bullet had just barely missed him was starting to sting more than a little bit. Hopefully it wasn't anything all that bad, and he'd be back in the field without issue once medical had gotten their hands on him. The only thing Soap loathed more than long and boring missions was a total lack of them altogether.
"Please tell me this place has heating in it," groaned Soap as Ghost fumbled to get the door open.
The lock had frozen shut since the last time anyone had been there, and so Ghost was having a terrible time trying to force the key in.
After a few moments, the door finally swung inwards dramatically, and Ghost fell through with it, hitting the ground with a thump and a groan.
"Shit," said Soap, stifling a laugh, "you doin' alright there LT?"
"Yeah, yeah," said Ghost, "laugh it up, then give me a hand up MacTavish."
"Yes, Sir," he said, pulling Ghost to his feet before shutting the door behind them.
As he took in the tiny little space they were in, he was pleased to note that there was a fireplace, complete with a pile of wood beside it. It may not have been the heating he would have chosen in an ideal world, but it would do the job of keeping them warm, and that was what mattered.
"I'll get the fire started," said Soap, wanting it lit as soon as possible, "you should go find out what kind of medical supplies we have here."
Ghost nodded his approval, and Soap moved to the fireplace, happy to find a box of matches sat upon the mantle as well. Starting the fire was simple work, stuffing balled up newspaper into the centre of the pile of logs and letting it catch alight. As he finished up, he turned to see Ghost bringing out a first aid kit.
"How are you faring?" asked Ghost, "Let's take a look at that leg of yours."
"Think I'm doing alright," said Soap, "pretty sure it's just a graze."
He took a seat on the couch that took up a good chunk of the room, hoisting his leg up on top and rolling his jeans up his leg. Sure enough, there wasn't even any blood, his pants taking the brunt of the impact for him, but Ghost still fussed away at him, cleaning the wound before applying a plaster to it.
Ghost began to pack away the first aid kit, then, but Soap stopped him.
"Nope, LT, I know how this goes," he said, pulling the kit into his own lap, "it's your turn now."
"I'm fine, Johnny," said Ghost, "there's nothing for you to clean up."
"Really?" asked Soap, knowing full well that the odds of that were next to none.
Ghost stared him down for a while, but Soap was more than happy to wait this out as long as he had to. It wasn't like he had anything better to do, stuck in this tiny safehouse until morning.
Ghost was the first to break, sighing and pulling his gear off so he could roll his shirt up. Soap hadn't noticed the tear in the fabric before now, and he was kicking himself for it. Ghost had a deep gash in his side, and Soap was more mad at himself for not catching it than at Ghost for hiding it.
"Come here then," said Soap, "not gonna be able to stitch it up easily if you're standing."
Ghost sat down on the couch next to him, hissing as Soap pulled out an alcohol wipe and cleaned the gash down.
"Sorry, mate, not much I can do about that," he said, wincing as he had to press a little to get some dirt out of the wound and Ghost shifted uncomfortably underneath him.
"Just," said Ghost, voice weak, "get on with it, please."
Ghost’s hand reached out to grab his, but Soap didn’t question it. If the man needed something to ground him, so be it. He took the cue to quickly dry down the area so the remaining alcohol was gone and pull a needle out of the kit. If he was going to stitch Ghost up, he didn't need it to hurt any more than necessary.
"Alright," said Soap, "almost done, don't worry."
Thankfully, for as deep as the cut was, it wasn't too wide, and so it didn't take long for Soap to stitch Ghost up. Once his hands pulled away, the shirt was pulled back down quickly, and Ghost hurried into the kitchen.
"I didn't see much in the way of food," he said, "so unless you packed an MRE, we're not eating anything particularly exciting tonight."
"Sorry to say I didn't," said Soap, "although mostly I'd rather go hungry than have to eat that shit."
Ghost laughed at that, seeming a little less tense than a few moments ago when Soap had been stitching him up.
"At the very least, we have muesli bars and some canned fruit. Not very dinner like, but it'll get carbs and nutrients into us at least."
The meal went quietly, Ghost handing over a can of peaches and a fork while Soap fished through the box of muesli bars for the ones with chocolate on them. They ate their fill, not much, but enough to tide them over, before tossing the packaging.
"So," asked Soap, "are we lucky enough to get beds tonight?"
"You are," said Ghost, "there's just the one."
“And?” said Soap, “Does it have some kind of horrible trap in it that you’re sacrificing me to?”
“No?” asked Ghost, clearly confused, “It’s just a regular bed, Johnny.”
“Then why am I the one getting it? You clearly need it more than me.”
“I’ll take the bloody couch, Soap, don’t worry about me.”
That was ridiculous, and he knew that Ghost knew it. If he had anything close to a good reason, he would have used it, but there was none, so he couldn’t even if he wanted to.
“At the very least share the bloody bed with me, if you’re so insistent I take it, Ghost.” he tried. He knew it was unlikely that Ghost would agree to sharing the space - they were both larger than average, and the beds in safehouses didn’t tend to be any bigger than a double. And that was if they were lucky.
Ghost huffed a sigh. “Fine,” he said, “sharing it is.”
“I-” said Soap, a little surprised.
“What?” asked Ghost, “Don’t want to? That’s fine, I can take the couch.”
That little shit. If anyone was supposed to behave like this, it was him not Ghost.
“No,” said Soap, “I meant it. We’re sharing now. No take backsies.”
“Great,” said Ghost, not sounding as if he meant it in the slightest, “sharing.”
And so they shuffled into the bedroom, appraising the far too small double bed they’d have to share. Soap was starting to regret this a little, but he wasn’t backing down now. If this was the only way to get Ghost to sleep in the bed, he’d put up with being a little cramped.
“Well,” said Ghost, “I think it’s time to turn in.”
“Sounds good,” said Soap, and he began to peel away his tactical gear, leaving him in just his top, jeans, and socks.
If this was a game of chicken, Soap wasn’t going to be the one to lose. So he slid into the bed, settled himself under the covers, and looked up at Ghost.
“Well,” he said, “are you going to join me?”
Ghost sighed again, before stripping down to just his base layer as well.
“Shuffle over,” he said, “I’m not that bloody small.”
“Yes, Sir,” squeaked out Soap, as the man pressed in close beside him. Their bodies were connected from shoulder to ankles, and Soap was suddenly hyper-aware of that fact.
“Comfortable?” asked Ghost, raising an eyebrow at him. Soap regretted turning to face him, because now they were practically nose to nose, and he felt a little as if he couldn’t breathe.
But he was, despite that, very comfortable. Being pressed up against each other meant that they were sharing body heat, which meant they were actually at a comfortable temperature. For as much heat as the fireplace offered, it was nothing compared to this.
“Very,” said Soap, voice breathy and quiet.
Ghost stared him down for a moment, before; “Good. Now go to sleep, we’ve got another hike through the snow tomorrow.”
And then Ghost rolled over, facing away from Soap, presumably so he could do just that. Soap didn’t know how he was supposed to sleep with the other man just lying there, millimetres away from him.
After a little while, Ghost’s breathing began to slow, evening out as he began to drift off. Soap tried to follow suit, to just focus on his breathing and calm himself to the point that he could sleep, but he found that he just couldn’t.
He wasn’t sure if it was the stress of the mission or the fact that he was pinned between a wall and the man he’d been falling head over heels for for the past few months - or some combination of the two - but that didn’t really matter now. All that mattered was that his heart rate was spiking, and Ghost was pressed up against him. He didn’t want to accidentally wake the man, especially not if he was so clearly worked up. Ghost didn’t need to know that Soap wasn’t handling this all that well.
But then Ghost’s breathing stuttered a bit, picked up for a moment before steadying out again, and Soap was terrified that he had awoken. But then Ghost rolled over, so he was facing Soap, and he could see that the man’s eyes were still closed. Asleep then, just a little less soundly.
Like this, Soap could half convince himself that this was all something different. That they were sharing a bed for reasons other than simply being forced to. But he knew that was all just a pipe dream.
Still, Soap couldn’t help himself.
“I love you, Simon,” he whispered, allowing himself to say it aloud for the first time.
Ghost shifted again, and Soap’s breath caught in his throat. Had he been heard? But then Ghost just shifted again, burying his face into the crook of Soap’s throat, and he knew that he hadn’t. There was no way that Ghost would ever allow himself to be seen like this.
It might have been wishful thinking that things were like this for reasons more in their control, but the thought was what helped Soap drift off to sleep, content to just have Ghost in his arms, even if it was just for tonight.