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“Johnny, please go to sleep.” Was his initial reply.
It was late, the night dark outside, hiding the moon under a sheer fog, the wind blowing unkindly against the window of Ghost’s room, the whistle sound spooking whoever stood outside. It was late, cold and Simon was very tired after a long day of briefings and intel drastically dropped onto them once again. They were stressed and worried, but Soap was now anxiously rustling the bed sheet beside Simon, his nails shorter than they were the past moment, his breathing rapid and shallow.
Simon understood it very well; they had begun this relationship of theirs not long after their return from Las Almas, it had been a chaotic few months of ups and downs, working with each other, learning from each other, but they had finally shaped themselves into a comfortable pair they promised each other to be, like a glove fitting a hand. Things had gone rather softly too to their surprise, there had been no dangerous missions recently, and they had both been safe and domestic for this little time they got until this new mission came down this afternoon.
Simon knew Johnny was getting used to this sample of domesticity between them and the team; Ghost would be lying if he said he wasn't either. Wake up every day next to his partner, spend the day with him, work with him, and being next to his friends all the time, it's a paradise Ghost never imagined he would get. He's scared sometimes, but after many therapy sessions and having the presence of his friends near him, it eased these worries of his most of the time.
Yet this-
“But would you marry me, Simon?”
- was taking it a bit too far.
Ghost rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers, as if it helped him process what he just heard any better, “Where is this even coming from, Johnny? This is very out of character, even for you. Talk to me, love.” If Soap’s been thinking of marriage, Simon wasn't… opposed . It's just a bit too soon to take that step, surely. It had only been a few months since they’ve gotten together, even less for any sort of intimacy; this seemed reckless, too reckless. “What happened?”
Tenderly touching the side of Soap’s face, the Scotsman let himself be touched and leaned into the warm hand against him. Simon noticed the tears threatening to fall from his lover’s eyes, the lip quiver and his desperation from any sort of comfort, kissing Ghost’s palm like it was his last.
“It's just- you think we'd work, out there? That we… can live past this, this work and trauma, this risk?” Johnny said, avoiding Simon's stare and looking over to the hand holding his face; so Simon was right, this was about the domesticity that had grown between them, mixed with some fear from their dangerous job, fear that was always there, lingering quietly, even when they were just friends.
Simon didn’t answer immediately, “The mission scared you out.”
“Yeah; yeah, it really fucking did, Simon.” Johnny admitted, laying back down against his pillow, staring up at the ceiling, his smile painful, “They always did scare me, especially after getting to know you. I only felt some sort of excitement before because I got to work with you so often. Become your friend.” Johnny admitted so softly, his words light like air itself, and Ghost simply listened to him, letting the man speak his heart out. Simon could hardly hold back the smile slowly growing on his face, his cheeks warm and sore from holding back.
“Johnny…”
“And now,” Johnny continued, “I don’t know, I suppose I’ve been enjoying these past few days, being your boyfriend without having to worry about losing you, any of you.” Soap placed his hand atop Simon’s, shaky and cold like the bedroom. “I don’t want to lose you, Simon.”
“I don’t want to lose you either.” Ghost replied, his own tears welling up in his dark eyes, “And you won’t , you hear me? I won’t allow it, I will fight to return back to you, always , no matter what.” Simon slid closer to Johnny in bed, hugging him, holding his head over his chest where he could hear his strong heartbeat and be enveloped in Simon’s warmth and love, something he worked so hard to shield as a soldier. “I swore it to you, didn’t I?”
“Did you? I can’t remember it at all, sir. Maybe…you could remind me ?” Soap mumbled against his chest, his playful self coming out again, and Ghost just stared at him, his expression fake annoyed, but his eyes so happy, much more relaxed. And so he reminded his partner again:
“I swore if we got together with me, you’d never get rid of me; I’d fight for our happiness, for our lives, because I love you, John MacTavish. I love you so much, I love you for the rest of our lives and beyond.” And Simon kissed his lover like he had that night they finally confessed to each other, no masks between them, no burdens, no fear; and Ghost still thinks it’s the best thing he’s ever done with his life.
“Thank you, Si.” Johnny whispered, kissing Ghost once, then again, and again, nothing but their devotion and adoration present in the room, and the cold night outside whispering back to them as they embraced in a tight hug.
“By the way, you never answered.” Soap said, “You never said if you’d marry me or not. The proposal is still up-”
“No,” Simon interfered, face smiling the same still, “no, I would not marry you, Johnny. Not now, at least, and definitely not here.”
“Oh, I suppose that’s fair.” Johnny smiled, but was slightly hurt by the answer still; he didn’t really know why, maybe because he was ready to settle down? Maybe he was just ready to do anything as long as Simon was beside him?
“I would like to. Get married, I mean.” Ghost quickly added, fingers threading the end of Soap’s shirt, “If that’s something you wish for in the future, then I will follow. Get your last name, live in a cosy house wherever you’d like, have a family.”
“You don’t have to do that, Si. It’s something we must both want.”
“I may not want it now, and I may never wish to have it by then, either.” Ghost confessed, furrowing his eyebrows as he thought, pondered Johnny’s words carefully; what he wanted, he hadn’t got a clue. He always feared he’d never live long enough to think about his own future outside the Special Forces, thinking he’d live and die as a soldier for his country, but with Johnny in the picture, he felt his heart swell, his chest breathe brighter air than before, the lights in his room shining a warm yellow as opposed to a mellow grey. He wanted whatever Johnny would want, because he trusted him enough, and trusted his judgement enough to never worry about an important decision again.
“Then we won’t get married. It’s okay, I’m happy just by your side, in your presence, in your life.” Johnny confessed, cuddling back against Ghost, his body pleasant against this dark night.
Simon sighed accidentally, “You wouldn’t have asked if it weren’t something you really wanted, Johnny. I don’t want-”
“Hold me back, I know, Si. But what you want is important to me now, more than whatever expectations I made for myself in my youth.” It was Soap’s turn to sigh now. “I only asked because, if any of us were to die, and don’t deny it because we were taught not to ignore these dangers; if we were to die, I wished to die as your husband . Not your colleague, not your friend or partner, because those words mean nothing next to the adoration I feel for you. We are more than that.”
And Simon was shocked, never expecting to hear such a confession from his lover; it was so sentimental and powerful, it knocked the breath off his lungs much like a punch would. He felt his arms getting colder from anxiety, because his heart was beating so fast, so much devotion pumping through his system, it drowned him.
“We won’t die.”
“That’s a little besides the point, isn’t it, Riley?” His tone was sassy, but Johnny smiled at him genuinely still, nothing more than kind banter. “Sorry, I just- It’s been in my mind for a while and the mission just…”
“I understand. I feel the same,” Ghost played with the ends of his shirt again, avoiding eye contact, something Soap noticed seemed to help him focus better, “I don’t like doing these missions much like you. I’m scared every time we go out, the small chance of losing Price, Kyle, and you especially, it’s a fear that always lingers, and it clouds my judgement sometimes. I don’t like feeling fear , Johnny.”
Soap let himself cry hearing those words, his hand gently over Simon’s chest, feeling his heartbeat, remembering it, like a message only he would comprehend.
“Fear is something Ghost should never feel. I miss not living in fear of losing any of you, or myself, while we’re outside.”
“I wouldn’t let it happen; I’d protect you, Simon.” Johnny sobbed, words so low the night couldn’t hear, but Simon recognised them, and he placed his forehead against Johnny’s.
“That’s what I fear most.”
The night wasn’t gone by the time Soap stopped crying against Ghost, his eyes were still ready, his hand tight as it held the fabric of Simon’s shirt, the blanket almost hiding him completely. Simon caressed his back as they tried falling asleep, the conversation loud in both their minds, still not quite over, but exhaustion was taking over quickly.
“Simon,” Johnny called like a prayer, and his lover didn’t even open his eyes.
“Hm?”
“If in the future, you’d like to get married, I want you to ask for my hand in marriage. I want the decision to be up to you .”
“Because your answer will always be yes?” Simon joked, smirking a little.
“It already is.”
It was a cold night in Scotland like it usually was during this time, and Johnny was sitting alone in the backyard of his house, his dog warming up his legs. It was truly chilly, his fingertips turning pink, his nose equally the same tone, but cold nights like these reminded him of such special times, moments in his life he would never let go of.
“I hope I didn’t make you wait long?” Simon said behind him, holding two cups of warm tea so they could watch the stars together, surrounded by the heat of their sweet dog, and the heat radiating from each other.
“Never, Si.” Johnny replied, his smile so beautiful and bright still, even after everything they went through, smile always and forever beautiful in Simon’s eyes.
Simon simply looked, admiring the stars, both men quiet as they sipped their warm tea together, shoulders bumping every so often. And the old lieutenant smiled, happiness swallowing him whole as he took a deep, cold breath. The cold wind whispered back.
“No. I hope I didn’t make you wait long.” He said again, placing his cup next to him and getting up, feeling Johnny’s eyes and confusion on him. “I hope I didn’t make you wait for this , Johnny.” He almost whispered, and almost didn’t look up at Johnny’s graceful face in shock, as Simon got down on one knee and pulled a small box out of his back pocket, revealing a small wedding ring inside it. The window behind them illuminated their small garden brightly as well, contrasting deeply against the dark night, as Price and Kyle showed up from behind the curtains, holding big candles with even bigger smiles to match. How Simon even did this, was beyond Johnny.
“Simon- How- What?”
“Johnny, many moons ago, in the bright and early days of our relationship, you told me that this decision fell on my hands, because you and your stupid big heart wanted to give me the freedom and space I never expected for my own future. And I have been carrying that weight, responsibility, trust, for this one decade you have stood by me and loved me, watched me grow into the man I am right now, as I kneel before you. And I will spend the rest of my life giving back this endearment to you, as my love glows as brightly as yours.”
“Simon…”
“So, John MacTavish, will you-”
“Yes!”
“You didn’t even let me finish!”
“I fucking don’t care! I’m going to marry you!
We’re getting married!
I love you, I love you!
” Johnny screamed jumping into Simon’s arms with no hesitation, and the night was suddenly not so cold anymore.