Chapter Text
Looking indifferent to whatever was happening around you was part of the job of an officer in the military. You'd get shat on in public and you had to keep your head up and stare straight ahead. But every soldier had their limits. And so did Riley, el fantasma, they called him. It was his fourth time in Mexico since then. And it was hard, hard to stay focused, hard to stay indifferent.
The heat, humidity, stares, the dust-
Dust was the worst. Simon felt aggravated, raw at the edges and nothing was helping him smoothen them. Every breath in without the mask covering his face brought him back to that cursed desert, into the cursed cell.
He still remembered so vividly the way his lungs filled with so much dust and sand it was hard to breathe. He was lucky then, that they didn't permanently damage.
Sometimes, when he woke in a cold sweat, he had to triple-check that the window in his room hadn't been manipulated. That he was not back there as people walked past, oblivious to the torture he survived each day.
Price has been pressing on him with a promotion to captain - receiving officer training, and having his team. With Shepherd out of the way, everything seemed easier now. Only... Simon didn't feel one bit lighter, so he stayed, where he knew he was best.
A dog with a bone.
"L.T.! Glad I could finally catch up with you." Sweat glistened on Soap's temple like ice crystals. He was in a military green t-shirt, completely drenched with sweat. One look behind him and Simon knew exactly what the younger alpha had been doing - running laps under Captain Hurtado's watchful eye. "I guess Price couldn't find anyone else to do his dirty work, huh?" Simon echoed, his jaw ticking as he suppressed the growl coiling deep in his belly. He was getting unreasonably irritated without much of a reason. "Huh? No, just that a few of the Mexican Forces were whispering about your brooding." Soap wiggled his eyebrows with a tiny grin. Ghost responded with a huff.
John continued, "I know that we've been running around and finding nothing, even if Laswell-"
"I don't need coddling, Sergeant," Ghost grumbled, his stare burning a hole through the far wall. He couldn't look into Soap's eyes. Their vibrant blue always made him think of a reality that was not his to wish for. Not for men like him. "So if that was what you wanted to do, piss off," Ghost added as he turned away swiftly. John pursed his lips. "How 'bout we visit the range?"
Simon stopped abruptly, looking over at Soap to his left. He could still see the spark in his eyes, the need to prove himself to an older alpha. Ghost wondered when he lost that spark... When he was a pup, or during his first visit to Mexico desert? Dealing with the Zaragoza cartel was supposed to be a milk run, and yet, here he was. Scarred to the marrow of his bones.
"Well?" Soap pressed, his eyes wide open mirroring hope and admiration only he could hold towards someone like Ghost.
Simon could see the expectation flicker in his eyes, the way he wanted to preen under his acceptance, if it was given. The sensible thing would be to decline, this was never a good thing to encourage in an adult, let alone a soldier. But Simon found himself weak when it came to his team, they were the closest he could call to ~~family~~ friends.
"Lead the way, Sergeant." Ghost grumbled, willing his eyes away from the bright beam John became. The younger alpha had a problem keeping himself from skipping towards the range if the weird twitch in his legs was anything to go by...
--
It was rare, to share a room with someone these days. Lieutenant Simon Riley was used to keeping his quarters clean, his clothes packed for any sudden departure, be it alive or-
"Hey English! How about we continue where we left off earlier?"
"You keep twitching." John echoed from the door to the bathroom adjacent to their room. "Hm?" Ghost had been deep in thoughts ever since Price ordered them to get a shut eye in case of a mission - another recon.
They were chasing their tails at this point, the terrorist cell was operating on a low, and even with the one-four-one on their asses, they kept avoiding them... The cell was involved in smuggling guns, drugs, and human trafficking. And all they found were dead ends. Rumored buildings to-be-hide-outs were just abandoned places with no connection to the terrorists.
"Is me being here bothering ye, sir?" Simon slid his eyes slowly toward John, letting him squirm under his gaze. "No." A simple answer, there wasn't anything that would bother Simon about John.
Ghost could think of people who he'd rather not bunk with, but Soap? Being in one room with him was way different. There wasn't any unnecessary posturing, no threatening half-grows, half-grumbles, John was just... Different. Good kind of different and Simon reveled in it.
"Ye ken take off the mask, sir." Ghost didn't know how much time had passed, but his eyes had been closed when he registered John speaking to him. He grumbled a little, refusing to open his eyes nor move. "I won't look, ane way or the ither."
"Johnny."
"Aye, sir?"
"I couldn't give a monkey's shit about whether you're lookin' or not. I ain't takin' this mask off, I'm too comfy to move me bloody arms. Do what you want, just stop moanin' about it and try and get some kip."
"Aye, sir."
There was a smile pulling at Simon's lips, and not for the first time in his life was he glad that he kept the balaclava on.
--
Whether by chance or fate, Simon and John had been ordered to stay on the base. Whilst Price, Gaz, Meat, and Scarecrow were added into the equation to go for a recon of a dubious facility. Other soldiers might take this opportunity to relax with their mates and have fun. Not Ghost.
Soldiers were giving him a wide berth and even then Ghost found himself with teeth bared behind his balaclava with a permanent frown etched to his eyebrows.
"Yer' going to create a wrinkle in the middle of your eyebrows, sir." Soap echoed as he oh so casually strolled up to stand beside him. Ghost had decided to hide himself in the gym. It was better than trying to keep himself from twisting the heads off of fellow soldiers.
The threatening growl that escaped Ghost's throat was not intentional, it was pure instinct, he told himself. Even then, when other soldiers would scramble and Price raised a questioning eyebrow, Soap did nothing he just... continued to stare. "Might ruin your chances with omegas," John added as an afterthought. The way his gaze traveled over Ghost's body was not subtle, and Ghost doubted John was even trying.
"Not trying to impress anyone, sergeant." Ghost huffed and puffed, gritting his teeth as he finished his last rep. Letting the weights clink overhead. "Sign me impressed enough." Ghost shot Soap a glare, one that did nothing but create a wider smile on the other's lips. "Quit it before I twist your head off."
Ghost was sure John wanted to press on, but decided against it. The twinkle in his eyes remained as a reminder to Ghost, that this young alpha, was going to be a pain in his ass until some higher power decided to end it.
Or him.
"Sorry sir, I've been unintentionally herded your way by a CO." Ghost didn't have to wait long, one look sideways at the sergeant made him continue. "Captain Hurtado said ye were giein' the recruits a right fright." The grin on Soap's face was so wide Ghost thought for a second that it'd rip if the other tried to smile wider. "Consider that solved, Sergeant... I'll keep myself out of their hair," He grumbled unwillingly as he rose from the bench.
--
"Sir, if I may..." Soap had lasted for about forty-five minutes of standing silently beside the lieutenant, who was staring out the window, before speaking. "Go on..." They were in one of the several common rooms, a few soldiers from the Mexican army mingled around the little kitchenette in the corner. Ghost had a bit of an understanding of Spanish but focusing on it brought a fantom of a cold touch to his whole body.
"El perro inglés finalmente dejó de ladrar. Entonces, inglés, ¿vas a ser un buen perro ahora? ¿Escuchar las órdenes que te da tu dueño?"
A cold touch connected him to Ms. Death. The same one he had when the Shadows seized Colonel Vargas' base under the guise of taking over a mission, coincidentally, with Shepherd at the front.
Graves was but a pawn, but his death in a tank was enough to topple the General to his knee. Then it was just a matter of time before the rest of the domino fell, and at last, Shepherd has been reported as DOW. Several anti-corruption cases were then held, and the one-four-one was out of active duty for a while after that, that time was one of the worst times for Simon.
He wasn't sure what was about to happen to him - legally dead, soldier directly beneath Shepherd, and yet working in the one-four-one. The blame could have been pinned on him once again, just like it was done before.
The great Manchester Christmas murder. A family of four, dead under a Christmas tree, the perpetrator, also a family member, died by suicide. House engulfed in flames. Some things were hard to forget... Some would stick with him until his last breath.
Price had reassured him then, that everything would be okay. And against all odds, it was. Now Simon held a new birth certificate, same name, same person, yet a different identification number. Nothing in the world could lead them to that case, not even if they decided to question him. He was a distant relative now, never even knew that side of the family...
--
Price and others returned with something, for once, a path, one that Simon hoped wouldn't put them astray from the finish line. He was going over the briefing in the shared room with Soap. "Is everything alright?" It was like Soap's voice echoed thrice over before reaching Simon's ears. With no response, John stepped one step closer to Ghost who was hunched over sitting on his bed. His hands kept shaking and distantly Ghost knew that he had to will them to stop, but he couldn't. All he could think about was then and not now.
He was terrified of how the mission could go. Terrified of living through the same horrors that still plague him. But it was not him he was terrified for, it was the others.
"Simon." John was now directly in front of him, kneeling, hands reaching for his shaking ones. Not touching, never touching without prior consent. Not outside missions, always a step over, always near, like a life-saving buoy. Ghost breathed out a heavy breath, blinked twice, and raised his eyes to meet Soap's.
While other times it was easy to read the younger alpha, now Soap was a blank page. Was this what Ghost looked like? No wonder everyone gave him a wide berth.
Then the heat of John's hands seared into Simon's. "My granaidh used to help me wind down before I went to sleep, I was always a little bit too energetic for me mama and sisters." There was a beat of silence before John continued, "I also know that it's used mainly on pups, and I heard that nowadays people don't do it because it's an invasion of privacy or something." John grumbled, his gaze flickering from item to item while he held Simon's hands in a gentle grip.
"So Ah wanted to offer, could help you... settle. It's not necessary sir, I know you're more than capable of doing so yerself." A small smile was pulling at the corner of Simon's lips. "You're rambling," he echoed in a gruff voice.
John snickered, almost as if shy, his fangs glinted in the evening glow of the setting sun. The younger alpha, Ghost had to admit, was someone who had a natural charisma to him. Ghost held a sliver of envy towards him, he wondered if Roba didn't happen, if he would be the same as John. And if so, would they meet? Would the future be way different?
Soap looked at Ghost expectantly and at that moment, Simon knew that he had no idea what the other alpha wanted to do. "Sure." John's eyes crinkled in mirth. What did he actually propose to Simon? His thoughts were still muddled with briefing and the slurry of awful memories and before he could second-guess himself, John was moving.
"Ok Simon, come lay on my chest." Simon sat there, staring intently at the younger, what did he agree to. "Ain't gonna bite ye." John grinned, his pearlescent teeth on display. Simon felt like he was crawling into a den with a wolf. Forget that Simon should be the one who everyone feared, now his wildly beating heart was for a different reason.
They shuffled awkwardly before Simon laid his head on John's stomach. "Now close yer eyes and... let the feeling take you." John slowly rolled the bottom of Ghost's mask over his nose, revealing old scars and light stubble.
Simon's heart was palpitating, anxiety pooled deep in his stomach like ten tons of stones and for the briefest moment, he had the urge to spring back up and leave the room. Leave the alpha to his own devices and just run away, somewhere far away where no one would search for him. But at the first tender touch to his cheek the urge to leave dissipated.
John was as silent as a grave. His fingers skirted over Simon's left cheek, over the gnarly Glasgow smile. The scar was ugly, lumpy at the edges, sunken in others. There was a never-ending itch that Simon had to actively stop thinking about. Scrunching his eyes he waited, his heart was still beating fast, the feeling of unrest thrumming through his whole body, and whatever Soap was doing was not helping him soothe.
He should have paid attention, or at least asked for confirmation before agreeing. He couldn't help the threatening growl that raised from his chest instinctively as soon as Soap's fingers made contact with the corner of his lips. That didn't deter the younger alpha in any way as he gently pulled his upper lip up. "'S okay..." He heard Soap whisper as he prodded his fingers against his gums.
Simon's whole body stiffened. He could feel bile crawling up his throat as Soap started touching his gums as if feeling for which way his roots angled, only to bring those torturous pliers to his mouth and- "It's alright Simon, breathe."
When did Soap start to purr? When was the last time Ghost had ever heard another purr? Purring wasn't exclusively for mated pairs, but it was unheard of. People reserved purring for someone who was their significant other or their pup. Soldiers were supposed to be cold-hearted beasts. As such, purring was prohibited - no purring made lethal beasts.
Ghost could feel drool sliding out from his open lips onto Soap's shirt. He wondered if Soap was going to stop, to maybe put napkins underneath his lips but before he could give it any more thought the tension started ebbing away. First his shoulders down to his fingertips, the incessant churning in his stomach had seized and his lungs expanded with a deep breath he hadn't realized he held back.
"That's it, relax, deep breaths, everything's ok..." Soap's voice was lulling him into a pleasant stasis. Gone were his worries about his missing fangs and what Soap might think about his crooked teeth.
The thoughts ebbed away like a tide alongside his consciousness.
The silence of the room was sparsely interrupted by Soap's purring and Simon's deep breaths as the younger alpha continued to slowly massage the gums around his missing upper fang. As soon as John was sure that Simon finally fell asleep he took time to actually look down at his superior.
John knew that it was by far the biggest breach of protocol in his military career, but seeing his Lieutenant so relaxed had brought a smile to his lips so wide his cheeks hurt...
The next thing Soap knew he fell into a relaxed sleep.
--
The younger alpha was woken up by a sparse and very rough-sounding purr that died and started back up in irregular intervals. It was such a deep purr that it almost sounded like a growl of a vicious beast. His legs felt numb from his half sitting half laying position and being dwarfed by an alpha almost twice his size didn't help. But all he could think about was that Simon was purring.
Soap felt gobsmacked at the revelation. It was Simon and not his imagination. The purr was rough, just like him, deep and rich just like his voice- and oh god, Soap felt such euphoria blooming inside himself, filling up every crevice of his body. His thoughts strayed to wishful thinking of what if Simon's mask was removed, he could have tangled his fingers in the other alpha's hair and-
And what?
Before he could entertain his thoughts he heard scuffling behind the door. Hushed voices reached him as he strained his ears. What was going on? He wondered if he could somehow extract himself from their position, but as he gazed down at the much older alpha, with his arms encircled around Soap's waist so tightly as if Soap were supposed to run away, all his ideas of escape flew out of the window. He couldn't help the smile playing on his lips at the skin peeking through Simon's balaclava.
A loud bang against the door had flown the older alpha from his position to his feet. The quiet of the room was so jarring that Soap hadn't even reacted as the door was ripped open from the hallway. The older alpha's huge frame barricaded all visual on the door and suddenly John felt reluctant to make himself known.
As the silence only grew in length, John clambered out of the bed to peak around his Lieutenant, coming face to face with a grim-looking Major Hyvönen, if Soap remembered correctly. Standing at attention behind the Major were a few other Sergeants.
Major Hyvönen was a tall man but even he was dwarfed by Simon's presence. Their stare down continued, only then did Soap realize half of Simon's mask was still over his nose. He cleared his throat reluctantly, coming to stand to the Lieutenant's right. "Sir." He greeted, standing at attention, if Simon was not going to do it, Soap was.
The officer's eyes slid from Simon to John in slow motion. They lingered around his neck and then slid down his whole body pausing at his midsection. "I was called here regarding a possible..." He paused, possibly weighting out his word choices before he acquiescenced with, "fight."
"No fight, sir," Soap responded quickly before Ghost could even breathe out. The Major sighed heavily, looking up from the wet spot on John's shirt, before meeting his eyes. Soap didn't want to think what that gaze meant, but he had a bad feeling it would bring some trouble to Price's front doors. Looking back at Simon who had straightened himself but other than that hadn't made any effort of smoothing his rumpled clothing, the Major grit his teeth before reluctantly saying, "At ease," before he turned on his heel and left with one last look at Soap.
The door shut behind him with a final click that made Soap's whole world sway. Neither of them moved even after the steps of five people grew silent. "I'm sorry." John squeaked, "'s all my fault. I shouldn't have-"
"Stop." John clapped his mouth shut a shiver rolling down his spine from the furious growl accompanying Simon's words. He was once again reminded with whom he shared a room with. "Don't speak of this with anyone, not unless they ask you." John breathed out a slow yes, sir, and watched Simon quickly righten his balaclava along with a swift pull at his clothes before he too, left the room.
--
It was seven months and thirteen days later that Ghost wound up in front of Soap's private room in Hereford. Not one word about their little fuck up in Mexico was exchanged. Price nor Major Hyvönen looked for him. Soap had expected that the conversation would never happen after two weeks post-operation Shrieker. But it never came.
As time progressed, John could differentiate the subtle shifts in Simon's demeanor. The times when he was tired, enraged, scared, but most when he was seeking the unfamiliar intimacy they shared back then.
The younger alpha didn't want to delude himself, no. It wasn't like that. But the brief looks from Simon when they were alone, they spoke volumes of how much the older alpha was holding himself back. And John for the first time in his life, didn't know how to approach a wounded animal, such as his Lieutenant.
"Come on in, it's not much." John grinned at the exasperated look he received as he opened the door wide. "But it's mine. I sometimes like to imagine that it's a den. Brings more comfort than you'd imagine."
"Sit down wherever I just changed my sheets, no stinky alpha pheromones." Soap remembered the one time Simon mentioned how he hated how most of the alphas stank. The reason why was never mentioned, but the hints existed, and John just didn't want to search for them, not now, maybe not ever.
"I don't mind your scent, Johnny," Simon mumbled as he slowly crawled on the bed, his shoes neatly next to it. Even as he lay on the bed, John could see all the tension that hadn't left his body. Another soldier would lie down, and just from feeling the soft mattress and pillow beneath them, their body would sag in relief, not Simon's.
"Can Ah help?" The question was out of his mouth before he could stop himself. John was surprised by the almost unnoticeable agreeing rumble coming from Ghost. The older alpha shuffled his huge frame until there was a clear space for John to lie down. And so he did, not long after he was dwarfed by the older.
"Want me to do anything?" Soap mumbled as Ghost settled his head right beneath his chin. "No, just..." With a deep sigh, Ghost encircled his hands around John's middle. "Do whatever you want, just don't touch..." He didn't even have to finish his request, Soap understood, and he reached for his phone quietly. No touching, no purring, no talking. Those were the conditions, and John wasn't one to breach them.
It was a tentative attempt at something similar that brought Simon peace of mind, something neither of them would get into trouble for. And so long as Simon was content, so was John.