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A haphazard smack against his helmet briefly knocks him out of his crouched stance. He grunts softly as he repositions himself near the bushes. Ghost isn't surprised that a task force member got bored and decided to bother him. He's even less surprised when he turns around and comes face to face with Roach, eyes crinkled in a relaxed grin.
"What," he says, unimpressed. They're supposed to be on recon duty, but it's lasted far longer than he thinks is needed, and with the information they've gathered being as dry as it was, Ghost had figured the squad would've started loosening up by now.
He should've figured Roach would be the first one to get antsy.
"Wanted to check up on you, " Roach signs. He lowers himself so that he's at Ghost's level and slings his firearm over his shoulder. " Also, I'm bored. "
Ghost rolls his eyes. "So I see you've made the smart decision and sought me out to help cure your boredom?" He makes a show of raising his brow even though it won't be seen through the mask.
Roach nods, completely unbothered by his lieutenant's snark.
"Of all people..." Ghost mumbles under his breath, but his limbs feel just a little less heavy than they were a minute ago.
He doesn't follow Roach's example and keeps his gun at the ready, barrel pointed straight in front of him. At the same time, the sergeant starts getting himself comfortable (or as comfortable as one can be in a humidly damp forest) with his journal already out and pencil in hand.
Ghost doesn't bother reprimanding him. It'd felt so long ago that he'd nitpick at every minuscule shortcoming displayed by his subordinates. It'd only feel strange if he went back to that now, especially with Roach, who had definitely played a role in the aversion of that overtly rigid demeanour.
And besides, he knows Roach to be startlingly swift when facing a sudden, oncoming threat, and with the added security of Ghost still on alert, their chances of ambush were low.
When had he gotten so soft?
He turns to the sergeant--the culprit responsible for that development. A rush of fond exasperation churns in his gut, but he doesn't speak, only watches, as he often does with Roach.
He looks down at the open journal page, a current sketch of the foliage around them, some jotted-down thoughts and a drawing of Ghost from earlier in the day. It doesn't bother him, but he's always surprised to see Roach's sketches of him, even if it'd been established long ago that Roach, much like the captain, tends to draw everyone.
It just means something else when it's Ghost.
Ghost clears his throat, suddenly abashed, "You and MacTavish should have drawing competitions. Bet he'd enjoy that."
The sergeant looks up, then glances down at his page again, pointedly looking at the sketch of the lieutenant.
"We already had one, " he responds. "He won. " Roach dramatically hangs his head and clutches his heart in a mocking "woe is me" display. Ghost feels the corners of his lips lift.
"Ah," he starts, leaning over to give a quick pat on the shoulder. "Sorry to hear that. S'pose the captain does have a couple of years on ya."
Roach shrugs lightheartedly, "My drawings could definitely use some work." He returns to his previous activity while Ghost turns his gaze back to their targeted area.
He's starting to feel antsy himself, and he's long recognized the source of that familiar precipice. "I like 'em, though," he says, much more hesitant and softer than his tone before, probably hoping the latter won't hear.
Roach's eyes shift upwards, and he takes a moment to observe Ghost, crinkled eyes boring deep into his skin, and he feels his body flaring warmer.
He leans forward and gives a quick peck to Ghost's covered cheek, patting the area lightheartedly before returning to his previous ministrations, all too quickly for Ghost to properly process and appreciate what had just happened.
Ghost manages a choked "Mhm" before he's back to steadying his gun in his grasp, albeit a little shakier this time.
They don't say anything else after that–-Ghost suddenly hyper-focused on the tree to the left of his barrel, and Roach very obviously content with their current established dynamic. The silence is, as always, comfortable between them, and it passes for another half an hour before Royce comms in that his area is clear and that there's nothing else to look for.
Ghost stands up, gathering the gear he'd set on the ground, and moves over to offer Roach a hand to hoist him up. The other closes his journal and brushes off his gear. When he looks up at Ghost, he grins.
"What?" Ghost asks, sensing an aura of inscrutability.
Roach continues to smile as he shakes his head, already turning to trek down the path they came from. Ghost wordlessly follows him.
---
Once they've all settled into their respective rides, Ghost radios in with Soap one last time to confirm extraction before he signals Royce to start driving.
He's just started to relax when he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the side-view mirror.
There's nothing out of the ordinary. Just his masked face as usual, but when he glances slightly upwards to where his helmet sits, that's where he spots it.
A sticker. It's a flower and a soft baby pink, and Ghost stares at it, slightly incredulous as if it appeared out of thin air. Except–-he has a hunch on where it came from, and the earlier smack to his helmet comes back to rattle his brain in a wave of exasperation.
And, of course, Roach chose to ride with Meat in the other car. He'll deal with it later.
---
Seven hours later, and they're finally back on base. Ghost is about ready to pass out in his quarters, but as soon as he steps into the common room, Meat approaches him, no doubt to pester Ghost into joining his evening bender.
Ghost is about to wave him off when Meat pauses and squints at him. "The hell is that ?"
For a moment, Ghost doesn't understand what Meat's referring to and, by default, is prepared to say it's his face, but the other's gaze is lifted just a tad higher than where Ghost's ears would be, and he realizes.
"It's just a sticker," he grumbles. He'd almost forgotten about it. "Don't get your knickers in a twist."
Meat only looks more confused. "Yeah, but-" his attention is ripped away by Roach, who makes his way over to the two. "Wow."
"What? " Roach asks.
The other makes a heatless scowl, "So you'll let Roachie here decorate your helmet, but if we even suggest you add some personality and glamour to your gear, you just get all huffy?"
It's Ghost's turn to scowl. "I do not get huffy." And he immediately chides himself for sounding like a petulant child arguing with their sibling over who started what. Over a sticker.
"And the sergeant did it without my knowledge." He tries to add with more professionalism, but it doesn't help that Roach is standing next to him, grinning like an idiot.
The answer obviously doesn't satisfy Meat at all--only really exasperates him more. He shakes his head and gives a brief, knowing glance towards Roach, whom Ghost heavily glares at, before he gives the lieutenant a light pat as he leaves. "Whatever. Looks cute, L.T."
Before he can respond, Roach is already pulling him away towards the direction of the mess hall.
Once they've sat down with a tray of food in front of them, Ghost takes the time to unbuckle his helmet, deliberately making eye contact with Roach.
"Well?" he says, side-eyeing his partner.
Roach glances down at the aforementioned sticker, then looks back up at Ghost and shrugs.
"Why not? " he signs. "You could add a little colour to your... " he gestures towards Ghost's person haphazardly.
Ghost sighs, placing down his helmet to the side and settling into his seat.
"You know you can take it off. It's all in good fun. "
Ghost gives one last glance at the little sticker before digging into his food.
He'll keep it on for now, only because he'd rather focus his attention on his meal over something so ridiculous.
--
The next time they're off on a mission, it's rather quick. A cut-and-dry track and assimilate.
As Soap handles their acquired asset into the carrier, Ghost takes a quick moment to glance at the pop-up shops around them. They've been deployed to a small village on the east coast of the U.S., where their target had hunkered down in. During their sweep of the area, he'd observed the various shop stands he'd passed by.
Now, as he studies the goods in front of him, his eye catches on a bright sheet in his peripheral.
He buys it without a second thought, keeping it tucked in his vest's breast pocket when he meets back up with the others.
--
It's a slow day. He's reading over mission debriefings in his shared office with the captain.
He'd chosen to look over them during afternoon drills when he knew he wouldn't be disturbed. With everyone outside sweating their arses off, he'd be granted a couple of hours of free time.
He's fifteen minutes into his file readings when Roach walks straight through the door, shoulders slumped from fatigue and half his gear still strapped to his body.
Ghost immediately sits straighter, forgoing his attention on the papers strewn across his desk and taking in Roach's presence. He's back a day early from his latest deployment. One Ghost, unfortunately, wasn't assigned to join.
"Injuries?"
Roach sighs lightheartedly and shakes his head. "Just a few bruised ribs. All good. "
He sits down beside Ghost with a heavy sigh and glances over his papers. "How have you been? "
Ghost relaxes as soon as the other situates the other chair, and his hand involuntarily creeps closer to Roach across the table. Roach zeroes in on it and grasps it without question.
Ghost swallows. "I've been fine. Slow day. How was the mission?"
The sergeant shrugs. "Nothing special, just a week of mostly sitting around. "
Ghost nods, gripping Roach's hand just a little tighter.
Roach removes his helmet and places it on Ghost's desk, leaning closer towards him so their shoulders are touching.
"Mission debriefings? "
"Mm. Just going over a few before I give 'em to MacTavish."
Roach nods, leaning his head against Ghost's shoulder.
Ghost snorts, already knowing where this will go. "If you're tired, you should've headed to the barracks."
Roach makes no show of moving, only whispering a soft "Wanted to see you" that makes Ghost's chest feel funny.
Ghost decides to return to his papers, one hand still intertwined with his partner's but refusing to let go.
Roach has already begun dozing off when Ghost brings the nearest paper closer to him.
He only manages to get twenty minutes of productive reading in when his mind becomes preoccupied. He's read the same paragraph five times before he throws the paper down and rubs his eyes.
The warm weight on his side hasn't moved an inch, and Ghost feels a faint smile graze his lips when he glances down at Roach, dead to the world, on Ghost's shoulder.
When he turns back to his desk, something catches his eye from his peripheral. It's the small sheet of stickers he'd bought on that mission weeks ago, haphazardly sticking out from between two folders.
He'd forgotten about it--was already apprehensive about using them as soon as he'd arrived back with them in his pocket.
But when he turns to his left, Roach's helmet sits innocently within his reach, and his eyes dart between that and the stickers on his right.
He sighs, feeling a little like a small child scheming to steal an extra snack or two from the pantry. He reaches forward, mindful of not jostling Roach too much, as he grabs the plastic sheet and slides it out of its clear sleeve.
Ghost gingerly peels a little blue flower off and delicately places it on the same area where Roach placed his on Ghost's helmet.
After smoothing it out for a few seconds, he debates placing another. Just because. But as he reaches over to grab at the sheet again, he freezes.
The soft breathing from his left had quieted substantially, and he slowly looks down to his shoulder to make eye contact with Roach's amused gaze.
"How long were you awake," he grumbles.
Roach lifts himself, extricating his hand from Ghost's and stretching. "Long enough to watch you lovingly decorate my helmet ."
"I wasn't—It was just one,” and Ghost absolutely does not sputter in embarrassment.
He doesn't respond, only reaches out to grab his helmet and turns back to Ghost, expression almost triumphant.
Ghost can only look down at Roach's mouth and subconsciously leans closer.
It is then that the captain walks right through the door, papers in hand, approaching his own desk when he catches Ghost and Roach in the act.
The smile that breaks across Mactavish's face is almost comical. Ghost immediately wishes he'd just done this in his own quarters.
"That's real precious, lads," he snorts.
Ghost grimaces, prepared for the onslaught of teasing from his commanding officer.
Soap notices his discomfort and quickly reassures him. "Ah, don't be embarrassed, mate. Roach here used to decorate my helmet when he first joined the squad."
For a moment, Ghost feels an ugly bout of jealousy spark through his gut, which is ridiculous because they're just stickers.
Roach quickly pats Ghost's hand and waves off the captain.
"It was my first mission with him alone, and we got so bored we just did anything to pass the time. " As if he sensed Ghost's envy.
"Yeah, yeah," MacTavish responds. "No need to feel jealous, Ghost. You're still the special one."
Roach sits back down, turning his body to Ghost while intently making eye contact with Soap. "He also lost the helmet on that very same mission. "
Soap sneers with zero heat as he walks toward the exit. "Think of it as an unpredicted blessing. Now you can focus all that attention onto Ghost.
The door closes, and Ghost wordlessly turns to Roach.
The other's grin hasn't diminished a bit, and Ghost feels warm under all his layers.
Roach leans forward and encloses Ghost's face between his hands, calloused but gentle, and brings his lips to Ghost's in a tender kiss.
His mask is still on, but Ghost reciprocates regardless and cherishes the moment all the same. He closes his eyes and leans fully into Roach's body heat as the other moves one hand to the back of Ghost's neck to lock them in place.
When they separate, Roach takes a moment to caress Ghost's face before pulling back and standing up.
Ghost already misses the contact.
Roach is about to walk out of the office before he turns back, glancing at the helmet in his hands and giving Ghost one last survey.
"It does look cute, L.T."
Ghost only huffs.