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John Price was a soldier, a legend among ranks and the calmest man Kyle ever got to know. He never showed any weakness. He never was nervous and if he did - things were really bad.
That was why he was worried.
John was restless tonight, grumpy even. He could be crabby from time to time, usually when he was hurt and didn’t want to tell anyone. Every single time Kyle saw past his behavior and every single time John allowed him to seek him out in private then, tending to his wounds, kissing him until the stiffness in John’s muscles became loose.
Today, John had pushed him away, and thrown the door shut.
“Maybe he just needs a moment, Gaz.”
Soap nudged him gently, giving him an encouraging smile. Kyle side-eyed him, feeling like a kicked puppy, but maybe Soap was right. Kyle was always there with John, maybe he just needed some time for himself.
Or maybe he hid something, even from him.
“I’m nae allowin’ that kind of face. Play UNO with me and Ghost!”
Kyle turned around with a frown, catching a glare from Ghost. “I’m not playing UNO.”
Soap grinned at him, pulling Kyle along to the table. “Do it for me!”
In the end, Ghost had humored Soap, like he always ended up doing, something which he never admitted and which John and Kyle saw past from. But John hadn’t joined them like usual and the taste in Kyle’s mouth stayed bitter.
~~~~~
Something was going on and Kyle didn’t know what. He hadn’t realized how much he relied on this - knowing information about missions before debriefings, getting to know small details John didn’t share with the rest, kissing the frown away from the man he loved.
Soap always moped that Kyle was John’s favorite, and Kyle had loved the fact that it was true.
Even if it only was in secret.
At first, Kyle had tried to tell himself it was only the stress or maybe some information Laswell didn’t want John to share, even with Kyle. Maybe a secret mission, or something dangerous, anything which Kyle wasn’t allowed to hear, not even by accident.
Kyle would be fine with that. Kyle wasn’t fine with the fact that John shoved him away at every possibility.
No secret squeeze of his hands, no rest of his eyes on Kyle, not that small smile Kyle loved so much, almost hidden under the beard which would tickle his skin later that night.
Nothing.
It was as if Kyle had done something wrong, as if John was angry with him, but Kyle didn’t understand what. He would fix it if he could, he would apologize, but he didn’t know why .
Soap and Ghost were their usual self, one grumpy, one the sunshine. John didn’t tell them off, though he was more quiet than usual, and during the mission he seemed more reckless.
But when they moved forward and had to split up and John told Soap to join him instead of Kyle, something shifted within their little group.
Ghost’s eyes laid heavily on John, and while the men didn’t speak, they seemed to communicate without words. Kyle felt like shit.
Soap frowned confused and looked between them, but tried to ease the mood instantly. “Ah, finally I have the Captain for myself. Ghost, enjoy the silence! Gonna tell all the good jokes tae the cap now.”
Soap’s grin at Ghost didn’t land, and Ghost took too long to act as if he didn’t care. Instead, he said nothing, just nodding at John, and shouldered his rifle. Soap’s eyes fidgeted between them, his nervousness almost suffocating and they parted without John looking at Kyle even one more time.
~~~~~
With every mission, John took Soap with him and Kyle became more silent. He was trying to not overthink this too much. Soap had other qualities than him, and maybe that was what John needed the most at the moment. And if this meant John’s survival and the mission’s success, then that was good. The best, even.
They were soldiers, trained in specifics, that was why they were a team. And if one of them got lent out to another squad, that wasn’t too unusual. Most times, it was Soap because of his demolition expertise, or it was Ghost doing a solo-mission.
It was never Kyle. John never let him go away, he always kept him by his side, an unspoken promise between them.
Staring at the words in front of him, Kyle swallowed. He didn’t want to go away. If he left, he was afraid John wouldn’t take him back.
“Oh, wow, they want you as a second boss.”
Soap smiled at him, ignoring and trying to ease the mood which had hung sour among them for weeks now, but it was noticeable on the Scot’s face that he was worried, too. Dark eyes under his bags, the smile not always reaching his eyes, the restraining in his voice when he tried to land a joke.
Acting as if nothing was.
Acting as if he, too, didn’t care to be parted from Ghost.
Sometimes Kyle was envious of Ghost’s mask. Hiding his face behind the fabric would be a relief now.
Steel-blue eyes peered into his, briefly but deeply, before John turned his head away and lit himself a cigar. “Boys are hunting a fugitive, highly dangerous. Bastard shot and killed their second in command, so they need some help.”
For once, this was what Kyle was good at. His police background and his strategic thinking would benefit him here well, but it wasn’t as if Ghost couldn’t do this mission, too. Even Soap could do it. The man was more than just explosions (though everyone knew he liked them the most).
Kyle grinded his teeth, trying to hide the pain in his eyes. “How long?”
John took a long puff from the cigarette. “Permanent.”
Kyle’s last nerve burned down like a charcoal starter.
“ No .”
Tears formed in his eyes against his will. A part of them due to sadness, but most of them due to anger and rage. He was patient, the most patient man he knew himself, but now he had enough.
John’s eyes flickered over to him, but they didn’t rest on him. Soap was unusually quiet and Ghost had stopped smoking.
The envelope with the letter landed in front of John’s feet. Kyle narrowed his eyes, stepping forward angrily and hissed at him. “I won’t do that. You can’t fuck me around like that. If you’ve got a fucking problem with me, then fucking tell me! ”
Something in John’s eyes shifted, but he still didn’t speak. Soap fidgeted restlessly next to Kyle, but before he could open his mouth, Kyle noticed Ghost stepping forward and pulling him back.
The door behind them closed. Kyle knew that Ghost knew. Soap probably knew, too. It was an open secret, John and him, but one they had to hide nevertheless.
One that Kyle was ready to die for. And John? Wanted to give them up, because of exactly what?
“I respect you. I love you.” Kyle lowered his voice and took a step in John’s direction. He shifted, as if trying to avoid him, and Kyle furrowed his brows in frustration at the motion. “Talk to me, John. Just tell me what I did wrong and I’ll fix it.”
The atmosphere in the air could be cut with a knife, but at least John looked at him again. The seriousness dropped out of his eyes, and there was the softness and that vulnerability Kyle had missed the past weeks. John broke the eye-contact fast though, and massaged the bridge of his nose.
“It’s not your fault, Kyle, you did nothing wrong. It’s me.”
“Don’t give me that shit!”
Within a moment, Kyle stood in front of John, cornering him against the wall as the man had stepped back by reflex. Kyle’s heart broke and the tears in his eyes became hotter. John’s eyes grew softer.
“Kyle… it’s not-”
Kyle grit his teeth angrily. “You gave me a promise. You’ll always be honest with me. You won’t tell me all your secrets, because you can’t, and that’s fine, but don’t you dare fucking lie to me.”
John looked up again and for a while they simply looked into each other’s eyes. Kyle tried to get behind John’s thoughts, into his head, but didn’t manage. John closed his eyes, breathed out and then-
-he took Kyle’s hand.
And everything was fine again.
“I don’t lie to you. It’s not your fault, you did nothing wrong.”
John’s thumb brushed over the back of Kyle’s palm. Leaning into the touch, stepping forward and leaning into John himself, John at least didn’t back away anymore. Dark bags under his eyes, a deep exhaustion in his eyes, and the wrinkles around his eyes were deeper than usual. He hadn’t slept properly. Kyle hadn’t been there to distract his mind from the hell they’ve met.
Kyle tilted his head and cupped John’s face. “There’s something going on. Talk to me. Talk to me, please.”
John didn’t speak, yet he leaned into the touch, intertwined their fingers and his breath relaxed under the touch. Kyle swallowed hard and leaned forward to plant a small kiss on the corner of John’s lips.
John didn’t kiss him back.
Kyle buried his face in John’s neck in frustration.
“What is it, John? Is it classified? Is it Makarov? Why do you want to send me away?”
John’s warm breath against his face, his hands traveling from his hand over his back, his other hand resting now in Kyle’s neck. It was heaven and hell at the same time, because John’s body was here, but his mind was not.
“Why do you want to stay?”
Kyle froze and broke the contact, leaning back to stare into that steel-blue he loved so much. “Why? Are you fucking stupid? ”
John frowned, but then smiled - a real, honest smile, even if only small. “Maybe I am.”
Kyle wanted to kiss him, bury his hands in his hair, wanted to kiss away the frown and the worries, wanted John’s muscles to relax. He wanted nothing else than to pull him into his quarters, and forget everything besides the two of them for a few hours.
He wanted that back. He wanted John back.
John swallowed hard, something inside his eyes shifting. “Sometimes you have to let go of what you love the most, Kyle. I just… I just think it’s better. That you leave.”
Kyle stared at him. “We talked about this. I don’t want a promotion or more money. I want this. This team, the 141, our work. I want you .”
John licked his lips, letting out a deep breath and connected their foreheads. “You’re young. You think you-”
“I’m young?” Kyle parted them, raising both eyebrows. “I’m young ? ” He hesitated. John didn’t joke like he used to when they had talked about this - John being older, Kyle being so young and beautiful. He had thought it was a joke, and kissed away all stupid nonsense out of John with passion every single time.
Maybe he had failed.
John swallowed. “You are. You may not think so, but…”
Kyle hesitated. When John didn’t finish his sentence for a while, he stepped forward, so close that their lips almost met, yet they didn’t completely.
“But?”
He nudged John gently, wrapping his hands around his torso until John broke. With shivering hands, John buried his face in Kyle’s hair, his arms pulling around him tight.
“But I’m getting older, Kyle. I’m getting older and I don’t want you to be stuck with my old ass.”
Kyle wasn’t sure what was going on, but he held John tight. He didn’t laugh, he didn’t ask, he tried to follow his thoughts and gave John just what he needed right now - to be held.
His lover didn’t cry, but he needed a hug. Sometimes that was all that John needed - a long, warm embrace, and finally he allowed it again.
After some time, Kyle kissed his cheek. “What’s giving you these stupid thoughts out of the sudden?”
John pulled him tighter, desperate almost. “Forget it. Forget everything and don’t you dare to leave me. I was just tired, you’ll laugh.”
Kyle made a grimace, slowly brushing with his fingers in John’s neck, relaxing under the touch himself. “You almost broke up with me because of it, I swear I won’t laugh.”
John smelled like cigars and gunpowder. He always had done and probably always would do. While Kyle wished for nothing else than John being able to retire, he didn’t think John would make it. Maybe none of them.
Sometimes he wondered who would be the first he’d bury. Ghost? John? Soap?
Who would be the last? Or would they all die in the same mission?
Would he be killed before John? Would John try to catch the bullet meant for him, even if Kyle had made him promise he may not do that?
In some weird way, it was alright.
He was alright with dying on the battlefield, he was perhaps ‘alright’ with losing John on it. But he was never going to allow anything else to come between them.
They’d face this hell together. Until death would part them.
“I got my first grey hair.”
When John didn’t laugh, Kyle realized this was the actual problem.
Getting out of their embrace, he stared at the man in front of him, at his boyfriend, the love of his life. The man who was feared and respected by so many, who wasn’t showing any weakness, ever.
Almost defeated by a single fucking grey hair.
Kyle swallowed, running his fingers through John’s hair, and through his beard.
He had seen it a long time before John. He had cherished it. Because John lived long enough to be able to grow a fucking grey hair.
“I’m getting old, Kyle. And this fucking war never stops. It never finishes and I dragged you into this. I don’t want you to be bound to me, when you have so much potential. You still got a future ahead of you.”
John’s thumb brushed over Kyle’s lips, and during the motion, Kyle pressed a soft kiss on it. Leaning forward and kissing him softly on the lips, Kyle connected their foreheads again.
“You didn’t drag me anywhere. It was my decision to join the military. My decision to follow you. And since I did, I’m finally happy, John. You make me happy.” He kissed the corner of his eye. “And I want to see you growing old and grey, John. Let me be there, at every step of our journey, until there is no other hair left on your head. Please.”
John looked at him, and when their lips met this time, it was for a long and tender kiss. Ghost and Soap had the decency to not check up on them for anytime soon, and when the letter found its way to the shredder and neither John nor Kyle mentioned the transfer ever again, Soap and Ghost didn’t as well.
If there were more subtle touches during missions, Soap and Ghost didn’t ask.