Work Text:
Not a year later, here they were again, at Ghosts flat, throwing their travel bags right next to the entrance door. This time they took a flight together, from a base in Cuba they were discarded from for another blissful month. Since Soap managed to convince Ghost to take leave once more, he was full of the joys of spring, smiling and happy about everything. Ghost was happy too, but he was not the one to display that so openly.
People from their team and at their base were already suspicious, sticking their noses where they were not wanted. Ghost and Soap didn’t want to have their supposed relationship bruited about among privates and recruits, so they maintained a distance almost all the time, having to sneak around and restrain themselves. It was tiring, really tiring, but they could not afford being nailed; fraternization basically meant losing their jobs.
Ghost however, had a feeling that Price might have understood if he was the one to catch them red-handed, but he preferred not to find out any time soon. Keeping up their act was going pretty smooth for them this whole year, even if it was wearying. But it had its perks; every moment alone they relished in, having earned it. Quiet evenings in Ghosts’ room, small touches in an empty locker room, stolen kisses in solitary corridors…
Now, half the globe away from their base, they didn’t have to keep themselves in check. As soon as the door was shut, Soap peeled Ghosts’ mask away and kissed him on the mouth, smiling at him when they drew away. Ghost caught him right back in his firm embrace and returned the kiss, slowly, thoroughly.
„I smell like a rat” groaned Soap and barked a laugh, shrugging his jacket away. Their long journey wasn’t really refreshing. Ghost, standing intimidatingly still as he always would, just watched as Johnny slowly walked around the familiar apartment, looking just like they left it last year. ’Fucking finally we are alone,’ thought Simon as he slowly followed his boyfriend. ’I can watch him as long as I want, I can touch him whenever I want’.
They caught eye contact. Soaps blue irises seemed to glint, and it gladdened Simon to see him like this, so bright and perky. He was standing on the doorstep of the bathroom, eyeing him uncannily.
„Shower with me…?” he smirked at him, slowly and teasingly running his fingers over the door. Ghost did not shift a muscle, waging a staring contest with Soap, who now slowly started to undress. Ghost swallowed.
This time, their leave had an objective and a plan they made and were going to execute. Unfortunately, it required them to take yet another flight, as if their 12 hour one from Cuba wasn’t enough. This time though, they had a direct connection, precisely to Italy. They were going skiing, to the finest region of Alps that was on the territory of Italy - Sellaronda.
In one of their late-night conversations in Ghost’s humid room in Cuba they discovered that the two of them had at some point in their lives learned to ski and had missed it ever since. After that, the topic of the leave came up and it naturally combined, given that it was late January now. So as they were packing again, not even two days after they arrived home, they were both excited. For the first time in years they were going to have proper winter holidays; their last ones were probably back at school.
Their flight was comfortable and passed quickly. Maybe it had something to do with Ghost’s hand resting on Johnny’s thigh or their make out session before departing which left them relaxed and content. Johnny fell asleep on Ghost’s shoulder.
They rented a car and had to drive a while from the airport, through a winding road, down to a picturesque town of Canazei. It felt surreal, just driving slowly through narrow, quaint streets, past wooden buildings adorned with lights, snow piling up on the pavements. Too many towns like this they had seen deserted and abandoned because of war, too many houses like those they drove past they cleared and took cover in, intruding their still trepidation. It was not easy to adjust and pretend to be simple, run-of-the-mill people, but they were there to try to get the hang of it. Or at least try.
They just wanted to have fun, really. Ski, go shopping in a local store, go out for dinner, go to a bar and grab a beer, fit in among the tourists. Live.
When they finally arrived at their apartment and parked their rented car, a young woman, the owner, welcomed them. She fortunately spoke English well and seemed rather talkative and friendly, as Italian people usually were.
„There is your apartament,” she smiled politely and let them through the door first. Ghost already noticed how nervous she got when she first saw him and Soap; he wondered if she could tell if they were military right away. Anyway, she definitely lost a bit of her liveliness when she saw two loaded and intimidating men, not a elderly couple as she had probably expected. She was also very short and her head barely reached Ghosts’ chest. Simon smiled under his mask he didn't take off.
„Right, there is the bathroom, the kitchen and living room and the bedroom…” she chirped as she guided them through the place. „You should have given me a call if you wanted two separate bedrooms, mr…”
„Riley,” grumbled Ghost, crossing his arms. The woman swallowed. „And it’s fine.”
Soap snorted behind Ghosts’ back. The woman was clearly taken aback, looking at Soap, then at Ghost, and then back at Soap.
When she left, Soap broke out laughing and even Ghost couldn’t stop himself from chuckling a little too.
„Have you seen her face?” Soap couldn’t control his laughter. „She looked like she had seen a ghost,” he laughed even more at his own joke. Ghost glared him down.
The apartment was really nice, spacious, with a view to the mountain range of Dolomites that the town was surrounded with. The sun was to set in about an hour, so everything seemed to have been washed in a vibrant color, the mountains’ sharp lines contrasting against the sky. Ghost went out on the balcony to smoke, Soap initially unpacked their bags, only taking out the essentials.
Then, they went out for dinner. Ghost definitely didn’t fit in, Soap thought, not in his camo pants and a jet black jacket that couldn’t hide his bulk, even though it was oversize. And not with his black medical mask.
They talked about public affection for this trip. Before, Ghost and Soap agreed to limit themselves to friendly gestures only, so that a casual observer could not tell that something more was between them. Obviously, it was for safety reasons, but now, so far away they agreed that they don’t have to be so careful.
Holding hands in public felt like a crime and they did it anyway.
The restaurant they chose opened at 6:30 pm, and Ghost thanked himself for making a reservation earlier, because when they arrived at 7pm, it was already full. A waiter welcomed them, only glancing politely at Ghosts’ mask. He guided them to a table that, to Simon’s disappointment, happened to be directly in the middle of a large room, already full of people. Soap quickly scanned the crowd; tourists, mostly elders and youths. Their table was situated next to a larger one, taken by a group of young women, one of whom Johnny already caught glancing at them twice. He frowned, knowingly quirking a brow and looking at Ghost, but unnecessarily. Simon knew what every person in the room was doing two seconds after they entered it. Habits.
„I'm paying,” stated Ghost before the waiter even came to take their orders, taking off his mask – wearing it in a restaurant would just attract more attention. Johnny knew that there was no point in arguing about the payment, so he just complied. Not like any of them was short on money.
„You alright, LT?” asked Soap when they settled down, sipping on their wine, an expensive one at that. „You seem tense.”
Simon slowly looked up at him. The scar on his face was adversely illuminated, its tissue more conspicuous than usual. Soap didn’t give a flying fuck about it, he has gotten used to it and it posed an integral part of „Simon” for him. However, this did not apply to the people surrounding them – he was constantly catching someone watching either Ghost or him - his own scars did not seem to go unnoticed as well. Rolling up his sleeves suddenly didn’t feel like a good idea anymore.
„This is going to be harder than I thought,” muttered Ghost and leaned over his chair. His tattoo peeked from under his longsleeve when he put his arm on the backrest. At this point the two of them felt the glances in their fucking throats.
„Hey, it’s not supposed to be hard. We are supposed to unwind and drink wine in a restaurant like normal fucking people,” said Soap and accentuated his words by downing his glass in one big gulp. Simon only smiled bitterly in response and took a sip as well.
„So, which person is staring the most?” Soap turned his voice down and leaned forward. Simon was looking him in the eyes all the time, and still, he was able to stay aware of their surroundings perfectly fine by using his peripheral vision. Military observance.
Ghost smiled slyly.
„This german bloke on your eight. Or this one woman next to us.”
„How do you know he is german?” asked Soap, amused.
„I can see it in his eyes,” scoffed Simon and went quiet, red wine contrasting against his pale hand that he was swirling the glass with.
„I say let’s ignore it. We are just handsome, that’s why they stare” Soap flashed him a smile that definitely didn’t look as if it was supposed to be just friendly. Simon swallowed.
„I doubt that this guy is admiring my outstanding features,” he snorted.
„The woman is, though,” smiled Soap, studying Ghosts’ expression.
„I think she’s looking more at you than at me,” shrugged Simon. He flicked his hair away from his face.
Soap discreetly glanced in her direction. The woman had two blonde braids and freckles all over her face.
„Does it matter? I’m not looking for affection. I got you,” Johnny flashed Ghost a smile. „Besides, she’s not even my type.”
Ghost considered responding to Johnny’s previous comment, but he decided to leave the topic alone. At least for now.
„What’s your type then?”
„In women?” Soap wrinkled his nose.
Simon nodded. „I’m kind of forgetting you have dated them before,” he shrugged.
Soap mused, trying to recall his rather poor attempts at dating he used to make when he was younger and not yet involved with the 141. They usually ended with one-night-stands, keeping him satisfied on a physical level but not emotionally engaging at all. He would go out to a bar and try his luck, usually ending up successful. At worst, drunk.
„Well,” he pondered, „wouldn’t necessarily call that dating,” he scoffed, amused. He finished his wine and refilled his and Ghost's glass. „And I don’t really have a type, except that I don’t like blondes. Why…? Are you jealous?” Soap narrowed his eyes and fixed his gaze on Ghost. The man said nothing, giving him a look.
Was he jealous? Soap couldn’t believe it.
„Simon?” the smile he had on his lips could be heard in his voice. „Are you jealous?”
Still no response.
Soap chuckled out loud, shaking his head with amusement.
„Don’t be. You got yourself a life sentence with me,” he whispered at the end. They were holding eye contact too long to leave any doubts to the people around them, given that Soap was leaning in Ghosts’ direction and Ghost was almost drilling a hole in his face with how intensely he stared. Johnny felt chills run down his spine.
After a moment of suspenseful silence, Ghost made a decision. No more hiding.
He gently reached for Johnny’s hand, intertwining their fingers, as if, exhibitionally slowly, their skin tones barely different in a dimly lit room. Soap widened his eyes – Simon was always so careful about the privacy of their relationship, so him doing it was a kind of a milestone for the two of them.
Soaps eyes softened. He linked their fingers harder, squeezing Ghosts’ palm. It was bigger than his own, cold and scarred. This gesture was very important for him. And it moved something inside his body, deep in his chest.
„I look forward to it,” said Ghost, voice quiet and silky.
Simon eventually took his hand back. He was probably only imagining it, but the conversations around them seemed to quiet down for a split second when their fingers touched. He was definitely imagining that… right? He was uncomfortable enough with being in the middle of the room, which meant not being able to see the people behind him. Thoughts in his head started buzzing on an alarming frequency, but he sent them off as quick as he could, forcing himself to focus on Soap solely, his warm smile, his neck, his arms, his blue, blue eyes, so caring and attentive.
Simon exhaled heavily. Enough of that, he thought to himself.
Something that Soap said earlier piqued his interest, and now he had the chance to investigate that.
„Johnny,” Simon changed his tone to slightly amused, indicating that he had said all he had to say on that topic. „Earlier, you mentioned blondes not being your type, and yet, I can't help but notice that I am, well…” he tugged at his hair, „blonde.”
„Ah, yeah. Type in women. I never said anything about men,” he smiled widely.
They were keeping their voice down enough so that no one could hear them, which, even if they weren't minding their tone, would be highly unlikely in a noisy interior of the restaurant.
Ghost frowned.
„Enlighten me then. What’s your type in men?”
Soap powdered again, looking Simon up and down with an unreadable expression on his face.
„Well, basically… you,” he smiled.
Ghost frowned even further.
„Damaged and with poor sense of sensitivity?”
Soap scoffed and shook his head at this ridiculous answer.
„Tall and buff, tú leathcheann,” he chuckled.
The dinner went quite smoothly after that. Nobody bothered or annoyed them, the food itself was great and they left the restaurant an hour later in rather good moods.
Outside, it started snowing. Big snowflakes were majestically slowly falling from the sky, fluffy and soft. Their hair was immediately covered with them. It was quiet and tranquil, not a single car disrupted the set in silence.
Ghost lit a cigarette. They walked through the town in comfortable silence, not really caring where to; just ahead. Johnny kept glancing in Ghosts’ direction, admiring his uncovered face. He seemed so calm, deep in thought, a small wrinkle between his eyebrows indicating that he was meditating on something. Smoke swirled around his head.
„Ghost?”
He turned to him, eyes widening a little bit as he fixed his gaze on Soap's face.
„What is it, Johnny?”
His voice, deep and rumbling with bass, but at the same time impossibly soft. Soap would recognize it everywhere.
„I’m glad we’re here,” Soap’s voice turned more private, more intimate. The usual teasing note that always seemed to linger within his words was gone now.
„I’m glad we’re here too,” Ghost took a drag of the cigarette. „I’m glad to be here with you.”
Silence, only disrupted by the snow creaking under their steps. Peace, snowfall. Soap looked up.
„What you did in that restaurant… I appreciate it,” he said after a moment, tone soft.
Ghost extinguisher the cigarette. They stopped in the middle of the pavement, the taller man reaching to flick some of the snowflakes away from Soap’s hair. Johnny's breath caught in his throat.
„It’s high time we did that. And yes, I was thinking about it,” he forestalled a question. „I don’t want to see anyone eyeing you and thinking that they might get a shot,” he paused. Soap was listening, mesmerized, because rarely did Ghost sound so moved, resolute and decisive. „I want this,” he linked their hands, „ to be transparent. And I don’t fucking want to hide anymore. You deserve this, Johnny, we both do.”
Soap was speechless. In the middle of nowhere, he just suddenly got this very touching speech he didn’t even realize he needed to hear. He watched those firm, hazel eyes soften up when Ghost looked at him, he was the only person in the world so privileged.
„Have I mentioned that I love you?” stuttered Johnny out finally, when he recollected himself a bit.
Ghost stood motionless. He was looking at Johnny, at the snowflake that settled on his eyelashes and was slowly melting there. He stood, thinking if it was the right time to say it back. If he would mean it.
He has been keeping off saying that. For Simon, those four words were a declaration and an oath, one that he would have to keep. And he wasn’t sure if he could do that, with his past and the irreparable damage inside him. But… Soap knew all about him and he still never backed out. That was something nobody had ever done. Nobody had even tried to know him.
Soap was solid, persistent. Ghost needed that persistence, never had he realized how much until he met Soap. All those years working together, their first kiss in that hotel, all the milestones they reached. They had their differences, of course, but they synched and lived in symbiosis. Ghost was unable to imagine that symbiosis gone.
The snowflake on Soap’s eyelashes melted, making too tiny of a drop to fall down. Another snowflake settled on his cheek. The sky was stark black, their surroundings privately quiet. Against this privacy, four words were spoken:
“I love you too.”