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It's been a long while since Johnny has done anything about the pain in his back. Sure, he's tried stretching, different exercises and whatnot, but he soon realised that his pain was caused by too much exercise, not too little.
One morning he wakes with a particular sore spot along his spine, an ache that refuses to subside throughout the day, despite him trying to take it easy. Granted, there wasn't much space to take things easy out in the field when he had a target to take out.
He realises just how serious the situation is when a particularly bad pain in his neck causes his shoulder to cramp up in the critical moment and he missed the first shot.
Wincing and biting back an irritated curse, he went back to take another shot but another bullet from the other side of the compound hit home first.
Johnny watched through the scope as his target –a high profile arms dealer– crumpled into a heap on the hard ground, the red mist from the headshot settling slowly around him like a plume of dust. It had not been his bullet.
Numbly, he hears Ghost call in the success, to Johnny's relief, leaving out the fact that he'd failed to make the shot.
He sits there, contemplating his further course of action or how he was going to explain himself to Ghost for another minute until they get confirmation that they can head back down to be picked up.
Gritting his teeth, Johnny packed up his things and went down to meet Ghost at the designated rendezvous point they'd decided on upon arrival.
Ghost was already waiting there when he got there, leaning his back against a tree, watching him closely.
For a moment, Johnny thinke he's managed let the mistake slip, but then he notices the way Simon is looking at him, breaking that cold look he usually maintained.
"You alright, Johnny?"
"I'm fine, he says a bit unconvincingly, but he figures it isn't a good jdea to keep it from him. They don't keep secrets from each other, its what made them a good team.
Well. There was one secret, but now was definitely not the time to expose his romantic fantasies.
"Its just my back. Guess all this roughing up gets back at you eventually, hell, I'd expect every narrowly missed shot or high fall takes a notch off your life expectancy."
He means it as a joke, but it doesn't look like Simon is very impressed.
"You wouldn't have been able to make that shot if I wasn't there," he says, matter of factly and Johnny feels a hint of shame and then fear settles in his stomach.
Was Simon going to report this? Would it be a step closer to his inevitable retirement?
Ghost don't mention it again when they get picked up.
The first thing Johnny does when he's able to go off is take a good, long shower with the water on a scalding temperature.
He hoped this would relieve some of the tension in his back, but it was only worsened on the bumpy ride back to base.
Ghost hadn't brought up his error again, but he feared there would be a continuation of their previous conversation in a more private setting.
Now thoroughly exhausted, Johnny towelled off, threw on a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants and returned to his quarters.
He’d barely closed the door and switched on the lights before he was startled by a shadow shifting against the wall.
Upon realising who it was, he let out a nervous chuckle.
“You scared me for a– “
“Take off your shirt.”
Johnny raised his eyebrows at Simon, that now stood with the more toned down balaclava than his skull mask, arms crossed.
“What?”
“That’s an order, MacTavish.”
Johnny was too stunned to say anything as he pulled it over his head and discarded it on the floor.
He’s barely completed the action before Simon is giving him another command.
“Sit down.”
He inclined his head to a nearby chair.
“What are you doing, LT?” Johnny asked as he took a seat, seeing the other man come up behind him.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the other man pull off his gloves and drop them in Johnny’s lap.
He startles when two large, warm hands find his shoulders.
Low, almost apprehensive, Ghost leans down to speak closer to his ear, even though Johnny would have heard him fine at a normal distance.
“I’m making sure my favourite sergeant doesn’t become a liability.”
The intonation in his voice is as flat as it usually is, but it does things to Johnny. What does even more, though, is the tender way Simon’s strong hands press against his back, fingers kneading into the tension of his muscles.
He can’t hold back the sign that leaves him as Ghost’s thumb’s find his shoulder blades and trace around the curve.
A low huff of amusement from behind him, Johnny’s almost sure Simon likes seeing him enjoy this.
‘Your favourite sergeant, now?” Johnny asks with a smirk, but Simon deliberately avoids the question. Johnny takes it as an answer enough.
“Aye, I won’t tell Garrick.”
He closes his eyes and tries to slow his rapid heartbeat as Simon works the tension out of his shoulders and back, sometimes massaging a circular pattern into his skin, other times, just coasting a flat hand across the planes of his back, almost intimately.
It was enough to make his cheeks flare up with a deep pink.
Ghost’s hands were strong, the power evident in his grip and Johnny melted into the touch. He doesn’t by what miracle this was made possible, but this was infinitely better than any of those fantasies he could dream up. This was real.
Johnny winces as Simon finds the point on his back where all the pain was focused.
“Found the spot?”
“Yeah.”
Both of his hands move up the centre of his back to allow his thumbs to massage circles around the area on either side of his spine.
Rough but somehow gentle hands brought some relief to the pain that’s been plaguing him all day and he feels as though he can finally breathe again.
“Is that better?”
There’s a hint of concern there that Johnny finds endearing.
“Much better.”
Simon gave his shoulders an affectionate squeeze, almost lingering too long before disappearing. Johnny wished he didn’t miss the touch as much as he does.
‘Get some rest, Johnny.”
Simon doesn’t see him smile.
“Thank you, LT. Maybe in the future I’ll call doctor Ghost if my back starts acting up again.”
Simon gives him a deadpan look. “Just go to sleep Johnny.”
Even after he leaves, Johnny can’t rid himself of the feeling of Simon’s warm hands on his skin.