Work Text:
You rolled over in bed to lazily throw your arm over your boyfriend, only to find the space beside you completely empty. It took you a moment to blink yourself out of sleep. When you did, your eyes immediately shifted to look towards the bathroom door. It was wide open with the light off. The clock on the nightstand read ‘0124.’
“What the fuck,” you whispered to yourself. This wasn’t necessarily entirely out of the ordinary, though. It was a rare occurrence, but if Ghost was nowhere to be found in the bedroom, he typically turned up outside on the back porch. So, that’s exactly where you decided to head.
Your feet hit the floor was soft thuds as you made your way across the upstairs. It was then you started to hear the soft murmurs of voices. You carefully tip-toed down the stairs, peeking over the railing. A laptop placed on the dining room table illuminated Ghost, who was sat before it. He had on his balaclava, as he usually did. Even in living together, trying to ween him off of constantly wearing it was to ultimately no avail.
You approached him in silence. He noticed your form out of the corner of his eye and turned his head.
“Simon,” you said, softly, “it’s late.”
“I know, love,” he said. You rounded the table to examine the device’s screen. It was a video call, but the image of the other end was vacant.
“Who are you talking to?”
“Johnny.” It was as if the name summoned him. The Scot suddenly appeared back in frame.
“Hey, Lux,” Soap smiled.
You returned it, languidly. “Hi, Soap.”
“We’re almost finished,” Ghost said. You knew what that meant. To him, ‘almost finished’ meant at least two more hours.
“Can it wait until morning?” His silence was confirmation enough. “Come back to bed, Si.”
“I told you, we’re nearly done.”
“We can talk tomorrow,” Soap reassured, much to Ghost’s chagrin. Ghost had always been stubborn. He liked to get things done as soon as possible. His tendency to miss crucial hours of sleep only aided in his motivation. But he also wasn’t one to continuously argue with you. He could be a hard-ass at work, but not always at home.
“Right,” he caved. “G’night.” Soap returned his words before an icon that read ‘Call Ended’ took over the screen.
“Thank you,” you whispered. You reached a hand to his, guiding him from the table and up into your shared bedroom. He followed you like an obedient dog on a leash. He closed the door behind you, quietly. At night, and sometimes during the day, it was almost second nature to do everything in silence. It was borne from you both working as enlisted members. Loud, unexpected noises could sometimes be startling. Even to a tough man like Ghost. You had that patience and respect towards each other. Plus, the juxtaposing atmospheres of home and work could be refreshing in their own ways.
“I do need to get back to that in the morning,” he said. You only shushed him. He followed you down onto the plush mattress so that you were both kneeling before the other.
“Let me take care of you,” you said. “Don’t think about work until tomorrow.”
“Technically, it is tomorrow.”
You huffed, “Simon.” He offered no apology in words, his eyes said it all. You moved to strip him of the ski mask, but his hands quickly caught your wrists.
“Not all the way,” he demanded. You understood and instead folded the fabric over his nose. You pulled him forward, gently, and your lips brushed against each other.
“Is this okay?” you asked. He answered by pressing his lips into yours. His hands met your waist and pulled you to straddle his lap. He then shifted to lay on his back in one fluid motion, still not breaking the kiss. It was slow and affectionate. Your chests were flush against one another, basking in the warmth.
When you finally parted, you stared into each other’s eyes, appreciating the fact that you were there, together.
“Are you sleeping like that?” you asked, talking about his mask.
“Yes,” he replied. You smiled, somberly. You leaned down to place one final kiss against his lips before carefully pulling his balaclava back down. You shifted your hips to get into a more comfortable position against his chest. Your bodies fit together perfectly, like a puzzle.
“Goodnight, Si,” you muttered.
His chest rumbled as he spoke, “Goodnight, love.” You closed your eyes and drifted off to the sound of Ghost’s steady heartbeat and composed breaths.