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Kisses had a special meaning in the MacTavish household.
Especially forehead kisses.
Since Soap had been a young lad, he remembered the kisses he had gotten from his family. Mostly in special moments.
A soft kiss on the forehead from his ma after he had a nightmare as a child.
He didn't remember what the nightmare was about exactly, but there wasn't much to guess because he knew it had to be something out of the horror movie he had secretly watched with his older sisters the night before. What he knew, however, was that he woke up shaking, with tears running down his face, and looked up to gaze into the warm and concerned eyes of his mother.
He hiccuped, tried to say something, nothing coming out but unrecognisable babble and his ma hushed him, pulled him into her warm arms, one around his back, the other tucking his small head against her comfortable chest, stroking the small hair at the back of his neck.
A soft kiss was placed on his forehead, his ma humming a song, her chest vibrating with it, and he was pulled into sleep, smiling and feeling safe.
A gentle kiss from his pa before he had to leave every morning for work.
A small Soap clinging to his ma, wrapped in her warm arms, still tired and not yet ready to face the day, still clinging to the last bits of sleep, before he finally woke up and was ready to create chaos again, getting a forehead kiss from his pa, a gentle smile on his face as he watched his beloved wife and only son, wishing he could pull them in one more hug but not doing so, because he already had and he couldn't allow himself to be late yet again.
So with a heavy heart, full with love for his family and belonging, he took a few steps forward, first kissed his wife then his son on the forehead, lingering for a few seconds with his eyes closed, to make to moment last forever, before he turned around and left the house. His wife and son waving him goodbye and watching as his figure grew smaller in the distance.
A playful kiss from his grandparents, when the MacTavish family finally visited them again.
His grandparents had a big farm, with a lot of different animals. Little Soap and his sisters loved to run around the big meadow behind the house, playing with the animals and chasing each other. While his sisters grew bored quickly and went inside the house to play something else, Soap always had a special love for the animals. He would often help his grandfather clean the stalls or help his grandmother feed the animals.
He remembered a time when he was playing with the chickens, running around with them, laughing and squealing, not really watching where he was going. Then his foot got caught in a tree root, sticking out beneath the grass but still hidden by it if you weren't paying attention, and he fell.
He would then go to his grandparents, with a bleeding knee and dirty palms. His grandfather would laugh, a full belly laugh, loud and full of amusement like he always does, while his grandmother would soothe him. Then he was pulled into a hug, him in the middle and pressed tightly together. Then they would tickle his sides and press kisses on his forehead, loud and exaggerated, until he was laughing and screaming again and his stomach ached because of it.
Small but affectionate forehead kisses shared with his sisters.
Being the youngest of the family meant that he was the baby, always to be protected. So his sisters, taking their role as the older siblings serious, always did everything to make him feel loved and protected.
Someone said something mean to him? They would talk to the person and then give him a forehead kiss.
He fell and hurt himself? They would take care of it, teasing him all the while, then give him a kiss on the forehead.
He had trouble with a subject in school? They would learn together with him, try to explain where he had problems and at the end of their small 'lesson' give him a forehead kiss.
Not to mention the whole forehead kisses he always received during the whole birthday, Easter and Christmas celebrations from his many aunts, uncles and cousins.
So it was only naturally he would pick up on the forehead kisses and give them to others.
To his ma after she put down a delicious smelling homemade meal in front of him after a stressful day.
To his pa before he left for work and after he returned late in the afternoon.
To his sisters, after they had another fight with each other or were heartbroken over another boy and needed the comfort of their younger brother.
To his grandparents, every time he visits them, after he helped around the farm.
Also to his friends, to give them comfort when they had trouble with their girlfriend or just a hard time in general.
Basically anyone who knew him, knew also that getting a forehead kiss meant that you were important to Soap.
And then he joined the military.
The first few months were the hardest.
Gone was the peaceful life and the quiet. His body now filled with adrenaline and stress from the hard training, early wake up times and long distance from his family. But also relief. Relief and joy to finally do something good. To do something that felt so right. Being a demolitions expert never really crossed his mind but when he held a bomb for the very first time in his own two hands, something just clicked.
Even though his body hurt all the time, his mind shaken by the new trained discipline and his heart ached for the forehead kisses of the family, he was happy.
Finding friends was never hard for Soap - he had always been a happy child that could animate others to play with him. This ability didn't change as he grew older.
So it wasn't hard for him to make friends in the military either. He was confident but not intrusive, friendly and respectful. People liked that. There were only two problems which began with friendships in the military - firstly, not all of his new friendships lasted long and it was hard for him to lose someone you had trained so long with, who basically became your family, in a fight no one really wanted to fight and secondly because, as mentioned before, they became family. And family in the MacTavish household got lots of forehead kisses. Kisses which would not be appreciated by everyone.
All his life Soap was told sometimes that he could be a little to much - a little too loud, a little too talkative, a little to close and affectionate - and he understand where these people were coming from.
Soap was a people person - he thrived of the connections and closeness he had with other people, especially the people he was close with. He also understood that not everyone was like that - some people liked their quiet and needed a certain distance to other people and he respected it.
It just was hard for him, not to get near another solider he was close with and give them a kiss on the forehead when he saw how stressed they were. That was the way he gave comfort and to suppress that part of himself was hard for him - but he managed it.
Then he joined the 141.
Captain John Price was stern but clearly cared for his team. A great Captain and an even greater man. A man Soap respected from the moment he introduced himself to the younger man. Very quickly the distance between Captain and Sergeant grew smaller and they were laughing and joking in no time.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, a young man his age, also a Sergeant, quickly became his best friend. They got together like a house on fire. Literally, because their first mission together ended with Soap having a little fun with his bombs, a burning - supposed to be abandoned - military base and a strong friendship. They joked and teased each other, but also clearly cared for one another.
Simon "Ghost" Riley, his Lieutenant, was a silent person. Completely the opposite of him, which is why many people would assume that they would not get along. However that was not the case. Even quicker then with Price or even Gaz the distance between them grew smaller. Las Almas was not a happy memory, but the thought of his Lieutenant durning it was always a comfort. After it the teasing and flirting, if one would call it that (and many people who saw both the Lieutenant and Sergant would call it that, because they were so obvious to everyone but them it was painful, only grew and with it, they grew nearer.
They became a family and it only got harder for Soap to not let a kiss to the forehead slip.
Every time he saw the down-turned mouth and hard eyes of his Captain, he wanted to place a soft and long kiss on the furrowed forehead, like his pa always had with him, until the older man was not so stressed anymore.
Every time Gaz and he were together in each others rooms, curled together in the bed, one of them stressed because of a nightmare, he wanted nothing more than to place gentle kisses on his forehead until his body stopped shaking, the sobs lessend and his eyes were no longer sad. Just like his ma always did to him.
And every time he saw the clenched hands of his Lieutenant, the straight back, tense posture and cold eyes, he wanted to reach out to the man, bring him close to his chest, protect him from everything that is hurting him and place sweet kiss upon kiss on his forehead until he fell asleep in his arms. Feeling protected and loved.
Okay, maybe the last thought wasn't good. Lord knows he heard all to often that there were rules against relationships in the military, against relationships between superior and subordinate, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop his thoughts. His ... feelings for the other man.
He didn't know exactly when his thoughts about his Lieutenant changed, when his feelings changed, but in the end it didn't matter.
What mattered where the peaceful moments in between missions on base. The long sleepless nights spend together. Talking or simply enjoying each others closeness. Taking comfort in each other.
What mattered were the laughs Soap managed to bring out of the usually composed Lieutenant. Quiet and often nothing more then a huff, a snort if he was lucky, but it would never fail to light Soap's entire world up.
What mattered is that their thighs and sides always touched on the helo, bringing warmth with it.
That Ghost worried about him, unnoticeable to others, but the little acts of furrowed eyebrows and scanning eyes were so noticeable for Soap, as if the mask wasn't even there.
That he spoke to him softly, like Ghost didn't want to spook him, as if the growling voice and hard voice could fool Soap.
That he touched him with careful hands, as if Ghost would ever hurt him willingly.
It mattered because he became Johnny and Ghost became Simon.
What mattered was that the 141 become important to him. And important people were given comfort in form of forehead kisses in the MacTavish family.
Even if Soap tried to suppress it, he couldn't stop the kisses.
It started with Gaz.
They had a long day behind them - filled with bad weather, wet, uncomfortable clothes and a shitty mission - and fell, after a long satisfying shower, exhausted into their own beds.
However, not long after Soap managed to fall asleep, he was woken up by a soft knocking on his door.
He grumbled softly and left the warmth of his bed.
He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and opened the door.
Gaz, looking small and scared, with wide eyes and looking pale in the moonlight shining through the windows, stood on the other side.
Without a word he opened his door wider and took a step to the side, to give him more space to walk into the room.
Gaz too didn't say a word, simply went to the bed and sat on it, looking unsure and staring to the ground.
After softly closing the door, Soap sat down next to him.
"Can ah touch ya?"
Gaz nodded and leaned against him.
Soap put his arm silently around his shoulders and squeezed him tighter into his side. A reminder for Gaz that he really was there, also a reminder for him that Gaz was at his side, now safe and seeking comfort after, probably, another nightmare. Annoying but a part of the job.
"Nightmare?", Soap whispered softly, but he already knew the answer.
Gaz just nodded again.
"Do ya want ta talk about it?"
This time Gaz shook his head, swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut.
Soap reacted immediately.
He laid down in his bed, pulled Gaz along with him and wrapped his arms tight around the other man, who in turn latched onto him as well.
Soft whimpers left Gaz and Soap immediately hushed them, wrapped his arms tighter around him and played with the short hair on the back of his neck.
The whimpers turned quiet until they dissapeared altogether.
Soap hummed softly and kissed Gaz's forehead.
In return Gaz squeezed him tighter.
They both fell asleep soon after.
After that, Soap would leave kisses more often.
After a hard training, he would pull Gaz into his side and leave a quick kiss on his forehead.
In the mess hall, still not yet woken up, he would sit next to Gaz, as tired as him, and leave a kiss on his forehead, to say hello without saying anything.
And of course, every time Gaz had a nightmare again, he would press kisses on his forehead, to give him comfort and safety.
Gaz didn't mention the sudden increase in kisses; his small, but genuinely happy, smiles said enough.
After Gaz, Price followed.
Soap didn't even know exactly how the forehead kisses started with the Captain.
But if he had to guess a moment, it would probably be after a hard mission.
They were following the target for months at this point. Traveling between countries, talking with multiple people, coming closer and getting further back, an endless tuck of war game no one seemed to be really winning but still pushing and pulling as hard as they could.
It was exhausting.
After four months of playing this game, they finally got a promising intel.
The target was supposed to be in an abandoned military base, far enough away from civilization in the middle of a desert, with a maximum of ten people as protection.
They finally had a lead, a chance.
... if the intel hadn't been wrong.
Instead of an abandoned base with ten people, there were at least double if not third times as many people, all with new and protected cars and enough weapons to support a war.
So the intel had been wrong, they had been totally unprepared and every one of them was hurt in some way (maybe small, but still hurt), but after seemingly endless months, they finally got their target.
The flight back to base was silent, only filled by the hum of the engine blades bringing them forward.
Soap and Ghost sat side by side, their thighs touching. Even hurt and exhausted, Soap felt warm.
Back at the base they had a quick debrief where all of them gave a tired, but still detailed, report and after that, they quickly bid their Captain good night and left, happy to shower and finally get to sleep.
Right before Soap could leave the office, he heard Price sigh. Softly, so silently that he wouldn't have heard it, if he hadn't been paying attention to the Captain. But he had been, because, even if the older man had tried to hide it, he had been just as tired as the rest of them.
So Soap stopped before he left.
Ghost, walking just in front of him, stopped as well and turned around to look at him. Underneath the mask and the dark, because it was in the middle of the night, it was hard to see, but Soap knew he was raising an eyebrow questionably.
Soap just smiled softly, reassuringly, and mouthed a "Goodnight Lt." and saw Ghost's eyes soften, watched him nod, then walk away, steps as silent as ever, before he closed the door.
He turned around and looked at Price, who was watching him with tired eyes.
God, he really looked exhausted. Even if he tried to hide it. To seem strong in front of his team, not knowing that he didn't have to.
"What is it Soap?"
He didn't answer, simply walked forward until he was besides Price's chair and leaned against his desk, arms crossed over his chest, and looked down towards the older man.
"How ar'ya feelin' Capt'n?", he asked softly.
Price sighed again, this time louder, his exhaustion clearer, and he leaned back into his chair. Tension left him and his shoulders sank down.
He brought a hand up to his face and rubbed his eyes with his thump and pointed finger.
Silence settled over the office, while Soap just silently watched his Captain.
Price lowered his hand and looked up towards Soap again, a small smile on his face. Tired, but genuine.
"I'm alright. Tired and ready to sleep, but happy to finally got that bastard."
Soap chuckled.
"Aye Captain. A nice warm shower and some sleep sound very good right now."
"How are you Soap?"
"I'm also alright Captain. Nothing a good night's sleep won't fix."
He fell silent again and scanned the other man.
He leaned forward and put a hand on Price's shoulder.
"Ya ken nothing of it was you fault Captain, right?", he asked and once more, Price sighed.
"I mean it. The reason we got hurt was bad intel. No one could've known it was wrong. Ya kept a clear head and guided us through this shit shown and look at us-", he paused and spread his arms wide, grinning, "we came oot alive and mostly fine."
He stopped grinning and leaned forward again.
"We are all alright."
Price looked into his eyes, searching for something. He must have found whatever he was looking for, because he smiled. A happy and soft smile. Crow's feet surrounding his eyes.
"When did you get so good with reassurance son?", he asked and Soap heard what he didn't say. I know. Thank you.
Soap grinned. "I have my moments, Sir."
He leaned a bit more forward and pressed a kiss to Price's head. The bucket hat that was always resting there, now looking a bit dirty, tickled his nose.
He leaned back again and pushed himself from the desk.
"Goodnigh' Captain."
He turned around and walked to the door.
Right as he opened the door, he heard it.
"Goodnight son."
He grinned, feeling warm inside, happy to have reassured the older man and closed the door behind him. Ready for a good long shower and sleep.
With Price too, the kisses got more.
Before and after a mission, to reassure the Captain.
After a night out at the bar, Soap and Gaz a bit drunk and the Captain had brought them back to their barracks. A goodnight kiss to the forehead.
And playful forehead kisses when Soap managed to annoy the Captain again. A fond smile gracing the older man's lips.
Contrary to what one would assume, unlike the other two, there was no special moment, no special occasion why Soap gave Simon his first forehead kiss.
The kisses started in the small lounge of their head quarters.
It was late at night and both Ghost and Soap were there.
Ghost sat in the big armchair, holding a book and reading silently, the only noise coming from him were his nearly silent breaths and the turning of the small paper pages. Dressed in only his balaclava, jumper, sweatpants and thick socks, all of them black of course. He almost looked, what some would call, peaceful.
Soap sat opposite of him. Curled up on the big, but actually quite uncomfortable couch, a blanket covering his legs. He was wearing a t-shirt, shorts and thin socks.
In his hands were his journal and a pen. The pen was scratching quickly over the page he was drawing on; a picture was slowly building out of the many small lines.
Soap's gaze lifted off the page and scanned the face of Ghost, then flickered down again.
Smaller, in grey, the same face, hidden as it was, looked back at him.
He smiled.
Even if Ghost would never admit it, he looked peaceful. Sure, he probably had at least three knives hidden somewhere on his person and knew at least ten ways to kill Soap either with his hands, his blanket or his pen, but right in this moment, he was peaceful. He was feeling safe and comfortable.
Soap's heart began to beat faster. It was quite an honour to make such a dangerous man such as Ghost feel safe.
"What are you smiling about?"
He looked up and met the warm eyes of his Lt. He smiled at him, feeling warm and tired.
"Nothing important. Just feeling good. Comfortable."
Ghost just grunted. Soap heard the unspoken That's good and, hopefully, Me too.
For a few seconds, so short but feeling so long for them, they just looked at each other.
Warm eyes and warm smiles. Love for each other clear, but neither of them confident enough to break the closeness, the bond, they have reached. Too scared to lose the only person they would do anything for. They were truly scared of losing.
Then Soap yawned.
He closed his book and stretched, a few bones in his back popping satisfyingly.
He sighed, grabbed the warm blanket and stood up.
Ghost just watched in silence. Brown eyes studied the body of the other man. Yearned to see it without the clothes, to touch it, worship it and study it again and again with his fingers and mouth until he knew it from heart.
He clutched the book in his hands tighter, resisting the urge to stand up as well, go to the other man and take him into his arms. To bring him into his own bed, tuck him in it and climb in after him, his front to Johnny's back, his arms tight around him. Tha man was always so warm, even now just in relieving clothes, would be like a furnace; would keep him warm and comfortable. He wants to fall asleep with the warmth and wake up with the man in his arms again.
Johnny looked so cute, so tired. So warm.
Simon yearned.
Ghost swallowed and the pages in his hands crumpled a bit.
Soap however, not knowing of the inner conflict of the other man, simply came nearer, his book and pen in one hand and the cooling blanked in the other, a warm smile on his face. Lines surrounding his eyes.
"Here." he said and put the blanket over the legs of the older man, who just let him, shocked as he was.
"I'm tired. Best if ah went ta bed and tried ta sleep a'little, ya ken."
Tired as he was, he didn't think more about his next action. Would he have been more awake, he probably wouldn't have done it.
Soap leaned forward, tucked the sides of the blanket between Ghost's thighs and the sides of the armchair, to ensure he would stay warm, and kissed his forehead.
He lingered for a short moment, his lips and heart tingling with happiness and contentment, and leaned back again.
"Goodnigh' Simon.", he says, smiling softly and leaves the room.
The other man stayed in the armchair, his eyes wide; beneath his mask, his mouth was open. His body still with shock, the place Johnny just kissed tingling.
Warmth blossomed in his body, starting with his heart and flowing through his vines untill it reached every bone and muscles of his body; untill he was feeling warm all over.
His heart is filled with love and his stomach feels like it could explode.
- and he feels scared.
He is so in love and so scared, a whole bomb of mixed feelings going crazy in his body.
Because being in love is a weakness. A weakness which can be exploited and will be exploited. Because he is Simon Riley, he is The Ghost, a dead man who has lost so much already, got his revenge and then built walls around himself, so thick even he couldn't get through anymore because being cold is better than being hurt, than being broken.
And being in love, loving Johnny, can very well end badly, can end with one of them, or worse both of them, heartbroken. And he would do anything, to not make Johnny hurt, to spare him any pain. Even if that meant, that he would not get Johnny.
At least he had thought that for a long time.
He blinked and slowly, ever so slowly, raised a hand towards his forehead. Careful fingertips grazed across hidden skin. His heart thrummed.
Maybe being loved was worth the risk.
Maybe loving Johnny was worth any pain.
Worth tearing down all the walls.
Worth leaving Ghost behind and becoming Simon again.
The morging after the forehead kiss, Soap nearly had a heart attack. He was pacing his room up and down, gripping his hair and cursing himself.
He had kissed The Ghost, most dangerous and unknown man in the military, on the forehead.
How was he still alive?
The whole day he was careful, jumping whenever someone came near him, always looking over his shoulder; in the end, however, his worries were unnecessary.
He met Ghost in the evening, as he was walking back from the showers to his room, a long and exhausting day spend training behind him.
Or basically, Ghost met him.
Because he very nearly had a heart attack as the man, that was suddenly besides him without him noticing (Seriously, how does he do that?), spoke: "Good training Sergeant?".
Soap, tired from the training and brain already going in standby-mode, will always deny the noise that came from him.
Ghost will say, teasingly and chuckling softly, that it was a squeak.
Soap will say, if he feels like answering the question that is, that it was a scream.
But that is a discussion for another time.
The point is, Soap let out a noise, whirled in the direction the other voice had come from and punched.
Ghost gripped the hand easily, an eyebrow raised.
"Ghost!", exclaimed Soap, body still tense and ready for a fight, after being so suddenly torn from its relaxed state.
Ghost let go of his hand and they began walking again.
"Aye, it was good training." Soap said suddenly as he remembered the question Ghost has asked, "Feels like ah can feel every muscle in my body."
"Good," hummed the other man. "A well trained body will keep you alive."
"Naaw, you worried aboot little ol' me, Lt?", Soap grinned. "I knew you care."
Ghost suddenly stopped walking, Soap did too.
"Lt?"
"Of course I care."
Silence.
Soap's eyebrows were raised and his mouth had dropped open a little with shock and suprise.
He didn't know what to think. No, rather he couldn't think. All of his thoughts were gone, the only thing repeating itself were those four little words.
'Of course I care', he says, as if it would have been obvious.
... And maybe it had been obvious, Soap mused.
Because right now, Ghost was nervous. Body getting more tense the more time it took Soap to speak, hands clenching at his sides; basically the whole picture of feeling uncomfortable -
- but he hadn't looked away.
Brown eyes peaked from the small free space of the mask.
Soap saw the small lines surrounding the eyes - probably furrowed eyebrows and a clenched jaw.
But still, those warm brown eyes looked directly into his, as if unable to look away. As if his words would mean nothing, would be less true, would he look away. As if he wanted to convince Soap with his eyes, that the meant his words.
Everything around them dissapeared.
Only the two of them still mattered.
Blue eyes met brown.
And Soap understood.
It was as if a rope was being cut, the tension between them disappearing.
A wall has been broken down in Soap's mind and suddenly he understood everything that Ghost didn't say. What he hadn't been saying for a small while now.
Soap remembered every small touch, seemingly so meaningless at the time, but in reality a sign that the older man cared but didn't know a better way to express his feelings at the time.
A small finger brushed across the back of his hand, a big hand lingering on the small of his back, lingering touches all across his body; before a mission for good luck and stay save, after a mission for a well done and you okay? - so small but so important.
Lingering glances, a sparkle behind those eyes, undefinable then, but now identified as longing. Long conversations without any words, just using eyes and facials expressions - unable to be read by anyone except themselves.
Small smiles, fond grins, loud laughs, bodies pressed tight together - so close but not close enough. Never close enough.
Hands reaching out for a touch, to hold hands, to trace lines all across muscular bodies, but always retreating, never touching, in fear of losing the warmth at their side, at their back, at their front - all around them, always around. Better to be near than risk losing the warmth.
Even now, body tense and unsure, because Ghost doesn't do feelings, a few feet between them, there is a sparkle behind those eyes.
Fear, uncertainty, hope and still, longing.
He had reached out towards Soap, took the first step both of them were unsure to take for such a long time, and was expecting to be burned.
And who was Soap to deny that hand?
Their chance at happiness?
Of finally being together?
He took a step closer, now chest to chest with Ghost, eyes locked together and went to his tippy toes.
Lips softly grazed a hidden cheek.
And both of them burned. Their hearts content, their stomachs exploding with happiness. They burned together, an inferno, high and burning brightly, to indicate their new beginning.
When Soap leaned back again, he met half-lidded eyes.
Before he could lean back completely, big hands wrapped around his hips and pulled him closer towards the strong body before him.
He put a hand to Ghost's chest for stability and leaned his forehead against Ghost's.
"I care about you too, Simon," Soap whispered, afraid to break the comfortable silence that had settled over them.
Lines surrounded eyes, eyes crinkled - Ghost smiled.
Unable to hold back his own smile, Soap grinned back.
Careful fingers slowly traveled from the muscular chest, and the fast pumping heart in it, towards a masked jaw.
A barely noticeable nod. Soft eyes.
Slowly, every so slowly, Soap pulled up the mask until it rested on the back of Simon's nose.
Soap's grin grew as he was able to fully see small lips, pulled into a small smile, teeth peeking out from a split lip, scars all over the pale part of the face he could see.
"You're right bonnie, Simon."
Ghost chuckled, softly and fond.
"You're not so bad yourself, Johnny."
He leaned forward a bit and softly kissed Soap on the forehead, who closed his eyes to let the moment last forever. Heart bursting with happiness and contentment.
As Ghost leaned back again, their eyes locked.
They haven't talked about them yet, haven't got a chance to talk about their feelings, their fears and hopes.
But here, right now in the night, in the middle of a military base surrounded by men they consider their friends and family, they were happy.
Both of them leaned forward at the same time and lips met in the middle.
The inferno in them grew brighter and their hearts glowed with happiness.
Together, any pain that would come in the future, would be worth it.
They finally had each other and that would be forever enough.