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Summary
“What I don’t get is why you’re out, acting like a nasty fuckin’ slag and bending over for anyone who looks at you the right way,” Johnny knew he was being cruel- but he was past the point of caring. All he could feel was the heat, pulsating in his temples and behind his eyes, that slimy little voice in his ear whispering to him to lash out. He wanted to make Ghost hurt, wanted to sink in his teeth and leave behind blood and bruises that would never heal properly. He wanted to make the other man feel the way he felt whenever he watched Ghost leave with yet another worthless piece of shit from the bar. He wanted Ghost to fight back, to yell, to tell him to fuck off, but the man stood across from him, eyes cold and shoulders tense as Soap berated him.
“Why does it matter so much to you, then?” Ghost’s voice is calm, the coolness of his tone cutting through the red haze clouded in Johnny’s mind, a respite from the flames of anger, if only for a moment. When Johnny doesn’t answer immediately, Ghost speaks again,
“You made it clear that you wanted nothing to do with me, that you didn’t feel that way about me. So, I ask you again, sergeant. Why does it matter so much to you who I sleep with?”