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Ghost was never a person to truly pick up hobbies, he had his job and place in the 141 and was a damn good lieutenant. He didn’t see the use in drawing or writing, creating something just for the sake of creating things. But, when it came to cooking, it made sense.
A thing that is necessary to do as any human being, that when done right is a luxury. Pretty much similar to the army, so he could ace it, And he had.
In his younger years, though he hates to remember them, he cooked quite a bit. It started as something small to help his mom get through, then something to help Tommy get through, then something to prove his worth to his dad. Sure, the dad part never worked but he’s dead now so it didn’t matter now. Now, it helps him get through.
Nothing was better than coming back from an unnecessarily complicated mission, and just having a nice dinner by himself.
Big emphasis on the “by himself” part.
So when they’d finally gotten the fuck out of Las Almas and left Los Vaqueros to their own territory, Ghost was stressed enough to put Gordon Ramsey to shame.
(It’s not like Gordon’s that fantastic anyway, have you SEEN the way he cooks a grilled cheese? Disgusting.)
So he went into the base, after pleasantries and such were covered, waited until everyone was asleep, and cooked.
Sure people had walked in on him before, but because of his reputation, nobody believed any sort of rumor.
Except for Price, who had walked in far too many a’ time for it to be accidental, and would chat with him while he cooked.
But Price never made fun of him, or judged him. In fact, he had quite the talent for finding exactly what was missing from any food, and Ghost appreciated his attention to detail.
So when he hears footsteps walk towards him, that don’t sound like Price’s, he slides his balaclava on just in case. He thinks about taking it off when he realizes whose footsteps they are in.
“Ah, Ghost, didn’t think I’d see you here after such a long mission”
“Likewise, MacTavish” he grumbled back.
The two had gotten used to talking to each other, especially after Las Almas, but an unexpected intrusion was still an unexpected intrusion.
“Ya mind if I get a cup o’ coffee?”
“Go ahead.” Ghost grumbled.
Soap begins making a cup, as he said he would, and Ghost continues cooking. The silence isn’t loud, but it isn’t comfortable either, it’s odd to have a time when Soap isn’t talking.
“Whatcha cookin’ there Lt?”
“Omelet.”
“At midnight?” He asked.
“It’s got onions.”
“Ah that really changes it, my bad” Soap smirks.
“Also has ham, peppers, anything I could find really.” Ghost explains sounding satisfied.
Soap smiles, though it’s hidden from Ghost's view, he adores hearing his voice, even if just for an extra second more than he’d usually share. Hearing Ghost talk because he wanted to talk was a rarity, and if cooking was going to be what it was about then so be it.
“You find any good cheeses?”
“I’m not a Neanderthal.,” Ghost rolls his eyes.
“What kinds?”
“American, mozzarella, really just the classics”
“Any Colby?” Soap asks
“God I wish” Ghost huffs, flipping over the comically large omelette as he does so.
“What is your favorite cheese?”
“Munster.” Ghost responds cold, calm, and with a little bit of a smile.
Soap, despite his attempts, breaks out into laughter.
“You got an issue with it?” Ghost says with an air of sarcasm.
“Just fittin, is all.”
“You got a favorite Johnny?”
Ah, his name, fuck the question, Soap would listen to Ghost say his name all day. In a completely platonic manner, Ghost’s voice is fit for that of a lullaby. Thus, it makes sense that him saying it would make him feel at ease. Alejandro was right, only Ghost can pull off calling him that.
Ah yes, favorite cheese…
“Any but the spicy kind really, ‘m not a picky eater”
“Too weak for spices?”
“Negative, I’m just too strong for them”
“Suurre”
Something seemed different about their banter, more calm, less threatening. Soap’s surprised that Ghost hasn’t kicked him out yet.
Ghost is equally as surprised. Something about him being too tired, or too used to Soap's presence. He found that for the first time, he would rather have someone by him than be alone.
Those are big thoughts Simon, start small.
He didn’t hate being around Soap.
Much better.
Ghost sets the cheese in the pan, adding the ham to let it warm and melt, and waiting to add the vegetables til everything is all gooey and melty.
After bickering, the silence feels better, almost warm, almost soft. It’s a nice break from the sharpness of the comms and gunshots, the electricity of adrenaline and flirting.
It’s not flirting, it is jokes, he reminds himself. Even if it was flirting, Ghost knows the rules better than anyone and has his heart fortified as such.
Soap knows the rules also, but as said, he’s got “a little anti-authority to ‘im”
“Why cooking?” ‘Why not any other activity’ remains unsaid as Soap interrupts the silence.
“Need to eat.” Ghost responds, matter-of-factly, as he usually does.
“That’s all?”
“Yeah.”
“Why not takeout?”
“‘M much better than takeout?” He can hear Ghost’s smile on his face
“You gonna prove it?”
“Is that an order? I am your superior, remember that MacTavish”
Putting aside how that makes his heart flutter, he responds simply, “A request, a challenge ev’n ”
“I'm not one to turn down a challenge.”
“Oh I know you aren’t Lt.” he smiles, one would even argue a smirk.
And Ghost looks back at him and smiles, holding back a laugh.
“Whatever you say, Johnny”
And oh how a fondness grows and slithers through his body, if he wasn’t meant to be this man’s soulmate then he knows no place for his soul.
Slow down Johnny, smaller thoughts
He enjoys “The Ghost” and would love to get to know Simon
Yes… better
Lost in thought, Soap doesn’t notice when Ghost begins to make another omelet. When he does, the fondness from earlier comes back.
Ghost must’ve noticed his staring, with the way his gaze locks, eyes crinkling in a telltale sign of a smile, before turning back around and speaking,\
“What did Earl say to his barber”
“… what?”
“I’m getting grey”
Soap snickers, slowly forming into a laugh. The joke wasn’t funny, not in the slightest, but the way he held on to it, the way his mask shifted a little bit in an attempt to hide his shit-eating grin. It’s enough to make the sun look dim.
Ghost mumbles something to himself he doesn’t catch, but it doesn’t matter, he’s too caught up in the moment.
“Yknow, you are the worst”
“Oh really Sargent, the worst?”
“Yep. Nobody surpasses you”
“At least I’m good at something”
“Hey now, I’ve got charm and charisma”
“Really Johnny?”
“Yep, the lads and lasses love me”
“I think you’re trying to speak things into existence MacTavish”
Soap says something in incomprehensible Gaelic and Ghost looks at him perplexed.
“English?”
“Fuck you, I bet your mums a whore”
…
Radio silence…
“Did I push too far I-“
Ghost starts laughing, genuinely, unabashed laughter, it isn’t too loud or bubbly, just enough, but oh my god. A noise Soap could drown in, Ghost's laugh, Simon’s laugh. It makes him forget how much embarrassment he thought he was about to face.
“My mom would’ve loved you, Johnny”
W… what?
Oh my god
That’s not something friends say.
Don’t think about it too hard.
Soap takes a breath before speaking, “If it makes you feel any better, mine would adore you and probably will”
“Oh trust me she already does” Ghost chimes in.
“Stooping lower now aren’t we”
“I’m not the one who called someone’s dead mom a whore”
“And I’m not the one who found it funny, it’s a very serious observation”
Ghost chuckles again, this time with a bit more energy, Soap can’t get over how lovely of a sound it is.
“Fucking hell Mactavish”
And now it’s Soap’s turn to laugh, letting out what he’d held in during his jokes.
“Your omelet is ready now too” Ghost looks over at him.
“Awwwe you timed it out so we could eat together?”
“Or because I’m the chef and don’t want my food to be cold”
“Finally someone who loves and appreciates me”
“If only Johnny, if only” he grumbles out, walking over to Soap, carrying two plates, and a small, but slightly visible, smile.
Soap chuckles. There’s a certain feeling of home in their banter, one that reminds him of blankets and hot chocolate. One that reminds Ghost of the first time Price said he was proud of him. Both parties would sit there and chat forever if neither stopped each other.
…
Soap takes a bite and is incredibly surprised, he’s not sure what he was imagining the omelet would taste like, but this is certainly better than that. He can’t hide the way his eyes sparkle and a smile stretches across his face.
“I take it I’ve done well?”
“Fuckin’ astonishing Si”
It’s only as the words slip across his tongue that he tastes the honey coating them… and the aftertaste…The aftertaste that tells him “You’ve never called him by his name before”
An aftertaste that causes a minimal amount of panic.
As much as Soap trusts Ghost to speak up if it’s too much, he never really knows the man’s boundaries. Maybe he’s pushed it too far, maybe that’s something too intimate. But… instead of speaking up or anger, he gets surprised, eyes large and wide, but then… they soften.
If John Mactavish was a braver man, he would argue that those eyes are full of love; Love that nobody else has ever seen.
And all of his anxiety melts away, as it seems to be doing around Ghost more often.
Ghost silently lifts his mask, opting to take it fully off (a sign of trust, Soap notes) and he takes a bite of his omelet.
“It really is better with the onion” Ghost grumbles between bites.
“What ‘r ye, Shrek? Relate to the layers?”
“I’ve never seen Shrek, I do like the colors of onions though”
He’s never… seen… shre…. oh my god. Maybe this man had more issues than Johnny had even originally anticipated. Never seen Shrek???? Never?????
“I’m about to kill you for never having seen Shrek, but before that, what is your favorite color?”
“Honestly, it’s lavender, and I’d prefer not to die tonight,” Ghost says as he takes another bite, seeming to savor it as opposed to his military-style stuffing it down.
“It’s either death or Shrek.” Soap points his fork at him accusingly
“I wasn’t planning on sleeping anyway”
“Is that… a yes?”
“You’re askin' like it's a proposal”
“Well it is Shrek” Soap insists
“And that relates how?”
“You haven’t seen it, you’ll understand, but is that a yes?”
Ghost chuckles, “Yes Johnny, I will watch Shrek with you”
“Hell yeah” he takes a triumphant bite of his omelet.
...
Ghost begins scrubbing the dishes, as Soap prepares the common area for their antics (not like anyone’s using it at this hour). Soap, in a mood to be at least a little nice, gets out some actually comfortable blankets, and a pillow or two. Ghost, unaware, also grabs some pillows before walking over.
And thus they end up on a small couch, relatively close together, surrounded by pillows as if it’s going to protect them from the outside world.
Soap clicks in the CD, hitting the small television in hopes it will start.
BONK
BONK
“Fuckin cmon-“
As per usual, it starts up, and thus Smash Mouth quietly hums toward him.
He then proceeds to sink back into the couch by Ghost, wrapping a warm blanket over them.
Soap pushes aside how warm it is, how this feels almost like a date, and yet just like second nature to him. How what’s happening feels just as easy as breathing while also feeling like it’s the most meaningful thing he will ever do.
Horrifying, even more than most thoughts.
Yet as he slowly rests his head on Ghost's shoulder, hands accidentally overlapping, he can’t find the energy to care.
And as Ghost slowly lifts a hand to play with his hair, furthering his descent into sleep, he’s not one to argue.
“Enjoy the movie” Soap whispers, knowing he won’t be awake for long.
“I’ll give my honest review of it when you wake Sargent”
“No goodnight?”
Ghost sighs, “Goodnight Johnny”
“Goodnight Si”
And for the second before he passes out, he swears he feels Ghost's heart rate rise.
...
He wakes up to a small tap on his hand, and credits music playing.
“Not gonna let me sleep?” Soap grumbles out.
“Not when your neck is in such a position, need you for sniping, remember?”
“Sadly do, sadly do.”
“The movie was nice, I like it”
“Can ya tell me more about it in the mornin’?”
Ghost looks away, smiling,
“It’s almost morning”
“It’s 4 am piss off, let me sleep”
Ghost chuckles “Fine, but I warned you, I’ll let you get your beauty sleep”
And that’s how Ghost found out how to sleep…. And how Price finds Ghost and Soap lying beside each other on the couch (how did they fit????) at 4:30.
Thank god it was only Price