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Ghost never owned much.
A life in the military would do that to anyone, but most soldiers at least had a home to go back to; a wife, a mother, kids… family. They had houses that had actual furniture and photos hung up on the walls, maybe some plastic plants, Ghost had none of that.
His flat was bare. He could count the number of things he owned on one hand, not counting his military gear. There was a threadbare couch, a toothbrush and toothpaste in the bathroom, a bed, and not much else. His flat was small, of course, so it wasn't as noticeable at first glance. Although not many people saw the inside of his flat, so mostly it didn't matter.
Ghost never bothered to try and really own things, enough of his life had been spent running and fighting for his life for him to really put any stock in owning a physical item. They were too easily taken away, broken, used against him somehow. At this point, his mask was probably the most important thing he owned.
Then his world… exploded. John “Soap” MacTavish walked up to him and bumped him on the arm as casual as ever, quipped something about saving him a seat, then turned his back on Ghost, like he already felt safe having the man at his six. The immediate trust threw Ghost off, he had read through Soap's file briefly, knew the man was experienced, hell his scores were almost as good as Ghost's, so how had Soap managed to keep his ability to trust?
As the missions kept coming, Soap and Ghost being paired together more often than not, Ghost learned a lot about his new Sergent. Johnny, as Ghost had started to call him, was whip-smart. Could cause a room in seconds and have it safe in the next few, he knew how to process information at breakneck speeds, and used it to his advantage. The bubbly personality tended to make people underestimate him, as Ghost had, and soon everyone on and off base was falling over themselves trying to be his friend. Ghost also learned that Soap only really opened up when he was with a small group of trusted people, namely the inner 141. Only when he was laughing with Gaz or playing cards with Price would Ghost see his face really light up, instead of the smile that never seemed to reach his eyes.
Johnny collected things, Ghost noticed after one particular mission. They had been on a rocky beach, and Soap came back from the mission with a small pebble tucked in his tac-vest. On another mission in a small town, Soap grabbed a set of dice he found in the dirt. Almost every mission Ghost noticed that Soap had grabbed something. But Soap didn't hoard them like Ghost would have, no, Soap gave them away. The dice were for Price, who needed a new set for one of his games, the pebble was for Gaz to use as a fidget, because the man could not keep still. Ghost had even received a few of these trinkets himself; an arrowhead, a cracked marble, and an odd-looking dog figurine that looked like it had been outside for decades. He kept these on a shelf behind his desk in his office on base, and Johnny grinned every time he saw them.
Ghost learned that Soap wasn't automatically trusting, he was just friendly until given a reason otherwise. But with those he trusted, he trusted with all of his heart.
But what Ghost really learned about the Sergent… was that Ghost wanted to fucking own him . Wanted to never have to leave the man's side, wanted to hover over his shoulder and glare at whoever dared interact with what was his . He wanted Johnny to belong to him, heart and soul, wanted to carve his name into Johnny's very being so that everyone knew that Soap was His .
This was a new feeling to Ghost.
At first, he ignored it, kept his breaths steady until the seething urge to fight something abated. But that quickly became impossible when Soap started flirting with him. At first just small quips over coms, but it soon turned into casual touches and innuendoes thrown at Ghost whenever they were in the same vicinity.
Ghost could live with himself if he knew Soap would never be his. He could curve his issues enough that they didn’t affect the Sergent. But with the slight chance that Soap might want him back, Ghost couldn’t help his possessive urges.
At first, Ghost tried to avoid him. For a man who tended to move like a shadow, he found it much more difficult to avoid Soap than he thought. Whenever he was hidden away in his office in the middle of the night Soap showed up with tea (and coffee for himself). If he found a small corner of the base to hide away in or sneak a cigaret, Soap showed up with a lighter. Eventually, Ghost decided that his avoidance strategy was not working, so he went back to his normal routine. Soap beamed at him for the rest of the week.
Gaz and Price seemed to be unaffected by Ghost's ‘new’ possessiveness over the Sergent. Ghost could loom over Soap during meetings, training, or meals and no one would bat an eye. The newer rookies always took a few days to get used to the brooding shadow behind the happy bubbly Sergent, but they had no choice.
It all came to a head when Ghost found Soap sitting in the Lieutenant's room one night, in the dark. Ghost wasn’t even sure how the man had gotten into his room in the first place. Soap was sitting on the corner of Ghost’s bed, forearms resting on his knees and looking mildly conflicted. He looked up when the light from the door reached him, face both brightening and souring when he saw Ghost.
“You solid?” Ghost asked, not being able to get a read on his Sergent emotional state.
“What dae ye want with meh?” Soap took up from the bed as he spoke, his voice sharp. Ghost, confused as all hell, narrowed his eyes. Soap continued before he could answer. “Cause fur a second there ah thought we had something, don't ken what but something, but then ye ignore meh for a week and then come back as if nothing happened! An since then you're been sending oot some very mixed signals an ah don't know whit tae make of it!” Soap had started pacing back and forth, throwing his hands around as he talked.
Ghost reached out and grabbed Soaps arm on his next pass, Soap head shot to look at Ghost, who remained silent. “Ah want ye, Simon,” Soap said with a sigh, slowly bringing one hand up to cup Ghost's face. He stood stock still as the hand connected to his masked face. Ghost wasn't even sure if he had been breathing for the entirety of the Sergent rant. He met Soaps eyes.
“No, you don’t Johnny.” Ghost whispered into the tense air.
Soap frowned, “ah think ah ken whit ah wan-“
“ No Johnny,” Ghost interrupted, pulling back from Soap slightly, “You don't understand. I want you, god do I want you, but you don't want me, the real me, you want the man you think I am but if you let me have you, I won't let you go. Ever. Do you understand me?”
“Simon, ah want all of ye, good an bad.”
Ghost stepped out of Soap's space, regretting it immediately at the look on the Sergents face, but not enough to rectify the situation.
“I’m not nice Soap,” Another flinch at the name, “I’m not even kind of nice, I’m mean and I’m possessive and territorial at best , at worst I wouldn't let you leave this room. Hell, I get annoyed when you talk to recruits , let alone Gaz or Price. When I own something, I own it fully . It’s mine and I don’t share.” Ghost heard an intake of breath and looked up. Soap was looking at him with what could only be described as hunger, deep and primal.
Suddenly Ghost's back was against the wall, Soap having grabbed his shirt and pushed him. The two stood close enough that Ghost could count Soap's eyelashes if he wanted to. “Yer aff yer heid L.T. if ye think for a second that isn't what ah want.” Soap started to run one hand up towards the mask. “Ah want tae be the only one tae see yer bonnie face, tae call ye Simon, evry’hing, ah want ye tae be mine .” with the Scottish accent getting heavier and the growled ‘mine’ at the end of the sentence, Ghost couldn't help himself.
He grabbed Soap by his hips and spun them around so that the Sergents back was to the wall. Using his body weight to pin the man to the wall and free his hands, Ghost rolled the mask up to sit on his nose. He pushed his head into the crook between Soap's neck and shoulder, forcing him to tilt his head to the side, exposing more skin.
“Stop me.” Ghost breathed.
“Bite meh ya big bastard.”