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It's so sad that when you see someone as they really are, it ruins them.
Soap was tired of waiting around for Ghost, waiting for him to make good on their promises. It wasn't intentional; he'd never expected to fall in love with the man. Still, he couldn't help the deep infatuation that developed the longer he stayed under the lieutenant's command. After one drunken night at the bar, Soap woke up in the man's arms, listening to the soft snores in his ear. For once in his life, he felt complete, as though he'd finally found his place in the world.
Everything was fine; they didn't discuss what was blooming between them. They were content to continue their lives, their secret building behind closed doors and gentle touches. They grew bolder with their touches in public, Johnny leaning into Simon's built frame as they watched recruits. Soap would make Ghost tea in the mornings, and Ghost would cuddle in close with him at night.
Everything came crashing down when Johnny lay beside Simon, running careful hands through the other's blonde curls. The man's eyes were closed, and his breathing slow, at peace with the world. Johnny found himself muttering the words before he could stop himself. "I think I'm in love with you…"
That peace was shattered when Ghost opened his eyes, immediately shoving him out of the bed and making him swear to never speak of it again. Yet, it happened again the next time the pair went out to the pub, their night devolving into a messy blur of flushed skin and smooth pants. Words of affection slipped from the Scot's loose lips as he curled up beside the man. Ghost would repeatedly kick him from the room and swear him into silence. It was a never-ending cycle of self-destruction the two men found themselves in. One was adamant about denying what had happened, while the other craved more.
Ghost never allowed himself close to others, never let himself feel human for more than a few brief moments when he was tangled in the sheets with his sergeant. For an instant, he could be Simon, tucked away from the world and safe in the arms of the other. But it was too dangerous.
He found himself longing for it, distracting himself from work. He needed to put a stop to all of it.
"Hey, Lt! You down for drinks tonight?" Soap smiled sweetly, hope glimmering in his eyes.
"Too much paperwork to fill out, sergeant." He saw how his smile flinched at the formal title, a sickening feeling in his gut curling at the sight.
"Oh, no worries. Some other time, maybe?" Johnny was never one to back down, doing everything he could to get what he wanted. Ghost turned away swiftly, preparing to leave the conversation.
"Maybe." He said stiffly. He knew both of them didn't believe it.
It continued on like that for weeks, the lieutenant dodging out of rooms with his tail between his legs when he caught sight of the sergeant. Still, he couldn't hold out forever and eventually found himself in the pub with the other task force members on the captain's orders. He'd called him into his office, claiming he worked too hard and needed to take a break. Ghost had been powerless to argue with his hand already cramped from carpal tunnel.
Now, he felt bourbon burn his throat and the chatter of soldiers surround him. It didn't take long for the sergeant to slide up beside him.
"Didn't think you were coming tonight, sir." Even their manners of addressing each other had become stilted, forced. It showed how Soap hesitated to stand beside the man, unsure of how close to lean.
"I didn't think so either." He grumbled, swallowing down more of the amber liquor.
"Price finally catch up to you?" Amusement held in the sergeant's voice, and Ghost felt the threat of a genuine smile breech his cheeks, quickly turning to hide it. He huffed quietly in affirmation, scanning the crowd for an escape route. Soap tsked beside him and finally seemed fed up, snatching at the man's hand and leading them outside. Ghost forcefully removed his hold, holding his hands close to his chest as he stared at the man.
"Are we not going to talk about it?" Johnny sounded frustrated but hurt slipped into his voice ever so slightly. Anyone else wouldn't have noticed, but Ghost wasn't just anyone.
"I don't know what you're talking about, sergeant." Soap grew red with anger and huffed in annoyance.
"Aye, of course not. Never know what I'm talking about these days. Perhaps it's because you never bloody talk to me anymore."
"I talk to you enough, MacTavish." Ghost felt himself growing more irritated as the conversation progressed.
"Oh, really? When was the last we talked? Really talked." Soap raised a stiff brow, his entire posture rigid and guarded, more hurt leaking into his being. His eyes were narrowed but glossy, and his hand flexed at his side as though he wanted to reach out for the other man. Ghost didn't have an answer for him. "I can't change how I feel for you, Simon."
Ghost felt something in him snap, a deep anger and fear overwhelming him. His words spewed out of his lips, the bourbon helping to force the words out. "I will never love you. I can never love you. You have fallen in love with a dead man; I cannot feel anything for you. These affections will do nothing besides ruin everything we've worked for. We cannot be anything more than teammates."
Soap flinched back, looking as though the force of the words had physically slapped him. "You can't love me or won't love me?"
Ghost glared at the man, "I won't lie to you and say I will change. I can't love you, Johnny. I'm poison and destroy everything I touch; I won't ruin you, too."
Tears welled up in his eyes, and he forced them down, instead giving a soft nod. A bitter laugh escaped the sergeant, and he wiped his wet eyes, "Guess relationships aren't in the field manual, huh, Lt?"
It was a bitter recall of their night spent in Las Almas when Ghost had abandoned every sense of competency and guided the sergeant back to him. Once more, he had nothing left to say to him. Soap nodded to himself, eyes glossy, and left without another word, returning to the obnoxious atmosphere of the pub.
By the next day, Soap had requested some time off for leave to gather himself and mend his shattered pieces. The halls of the base were cold and empty without the sergeant wandering about. Ghost forced himself into his work, never taking breaks to fill the void he'd created between himself and Soap. Ghost looked up to stare at the door, a piece of himself deep down waiting for the man to walk through his door. It never happened.
Life continued; Soap returned to base with a renewed spirit. He smiled again, even if it didn't reach his eyes. He laughed, even if it sounded hollow. They didn't talk about it.
Simon found himself missing the closeness, longing for what the two once had. He tried to force himself to love him and attempt to regain that affection they'd once shared. It all felt stiff and fake, leaving a bad taste in his mouth and a disheartened look in his sergeant's eyes. Eventually, he couldn't take it anymore, the two men sharing a few drinks alone at the pub.
"I wanted to love you when I saw you again." His voice was rough and raspy, emotions bubbling up in the tone. "I thought I could, somehow."
Soap stared at him, his brows furrowing slightly and his lips pulling down into a gentle frown.
"But, I'm not…" He heaved a sigh, taking another swig of his bourbon. "And even if I did, the best I could ever give you… would never be what you deserve." Soap stared at him with sympathetic blue eyes, misted with emotion. "I do care about you, as much as I'm capable of caring for someone else… which is never enough. I'm sorry."
Soap reached out, placing a tender hand on his and raising it to his lips to place a soothing kiss. "Simon, I can't… wait for you to love me. I need you in my life."
Ghost sighed, pulling their conjoined hands to rest against his lips. "I'm sorry for all of this. I'm sorry I hurt you."
The other man looked away, pained and unsure whether to speak. He eventually sighed and moved his other hand to finger along the grooves of the table. "I was hurt. But then I realized that's just who you are. Well, maybe I need to stop expecting you to love me so I won't get hurt when you don't."
They didn't have the words to describe their relationship, neither spoke any further on what they'd said that day. Instead, they allowed themselves to do what was best for them. Quiet touches and kind gestures, but no words about what they meant were spoken. They may never have the kind of love they desire, but they learn to be okay with that.