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It’s not often that KorTac and the 141 work together, but the handful of times that it happened were always a treat. Despite everyone else’s complaints. You always managed to make it an enjoyable experience, you’d wind up acting as a mediator between the two teams, even though no one asked you to. You’d always be the first one to step in between König and Ghost when they’d start to let their differences get the better of them. It was amazing watching you stand in between the two mountains, gently shoving both of them away from one another. Despite being a lower rank than him, your presence commanded as much respect as Ghost’s.
It’s part of what made König gravitate towards you, so whenever your teams would work together he’d start to interact with you only. Even though your jobs were demanding, taxing, and draining on the best days, you still found a way to laugh it off. And god your laugh was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard, like wind chimes on a soft breezy summer day, it brought him so much peace to hear you. You were so kind and openly loving of your team. When Soap and Ghost came back from a rough mission, you took them both in your arms. Soap returned the embrace with eyes shut and full of emotion, Ghost patted your back and pulled away. You didn’t care, you were just grateful to have them back.
And then you turned to König after Soap shuffled off to his room, you walked up to him and rubbed his arm, hesitant to embrace him, unsure of his comfort levels. He leaned into your touch and you took it as permission, so you got on your toes and wrapped your arms around him. He leaned down and snaked his own around your smaller form, committing to memory the way you fit against him.
“Forget it. Keep pressing on.” You murmured in his ear, he squeezed you a little tighter and took a deep breath, the scent of your shampoo embedding deep in his mind. He straightened up, and wondered how someone who saw the same carnage as he did could still be so good.
“Thank you, schatz.” His voice felt like wind blowing through a crack, he was winded but in the best ways. You smiled softly at him and rubbed his arm one more time before pulling away and walking in the direction of your lieutenant. Every time he’s seen you and interacted with you, he falls deeper and deeper down the hole, he’s in the palm of your hand and he wonders if you’re even aware.
It’s when he’s on his way to the showers that he heard it. Soft voices filtering through a crack in the door, and one that sounded an awful lot like yours. He loved everything about you and anything to do with you, so naturally he looked through the crack and sure enough he saw you and Ghost.
“I can’t have you out there.” He argued,
“It’s not up to you, Simon, how the hell am I supposed to do my job if you’re going to be freaking out anytime we’re on the field together?” You were sat at his desk, legs swinging as you watched him pace back and forth,
Simon?
“Fuck. I know.” His head dropped, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. König watched as you walked towards him, your hands coming up to his chest, slowly sliding under the fabric of his balaclava,
“I need you to trust me, Si.” Your voice was low, your fingers gently moving the fabric up and over his mouth, resting it at the bridge of his nose. König couldn’t see the exposed skin on account of you blocking his view,
Wait.
“It’s not you I don’t trust, you know that.” He sighed, his hands rested on your hips, holding you against him, “I can’t promise I’ll keep you safe.”
Hold on.
“Well I trust you. Besides, I’ll be with König. I trust him.” You reasoned, Ghost rested his forehead against yours,
“Just be careful, love, please. For me.” He begged, his voice desperate and sad.
“Always.” You were so gentle, just as you always were.
And you did the unthinkable. You leaned up on your toes, just like you had when you hugged König not too long ago, and pressed your lips against his. König felt sick. He wanted to scream but he knew better. He quietly stepped away, feeling like he was stuck in place, struck by lightning and frozen with ice. His blood ran impossibly cold. He tasted iron in his mouth before he realized he bit a hole through his lower lip.
He never stood a chance, did he? He walked numbly towards the showers, the scene playing in his mind over and over again. And as he stood under the spray of cold water, he could only imagine the softness of your touch, the tips of your fingers gliding along Ghost’s cheek as you moved his mask away from his face, the warmth of you as you pressed yourself against him.
And then it all made sense. When you’d stand in between them, you’d always lean against Ghost just a little more. Your eyes always found his as soon as he entered the vicinity, and they always held a certain glimmer in them when Ghost would return your stare. It would probably explain why you so especially attuned to him, always aware of him and his quiet presence.
As his head hung in the shower, cold water suddenly not feeling cold enough, his heart broke in his chest. He felt bile rising up to his throat, he wanted to punch and kick and scream and beat the ever loving fuck out of Ghost. But then he’d lose you forever if he did. He’d just have to settle for your friendly embrace and the fact that you trusted him enough to look out for you. It would have to be enough, even if it never could.