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“Thank you, Lieutenant. That’s all.” Ghost nodded, pivoting around and leaving Laswell’s office before she could stop him, which he doubted she’d do this late.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, he felt a good chunk of the tension in his shoulders melt away as exhaustion hit him full force. It was nearing three am, and he had just returned from a solo op that had taken him nearly a week longer than expected to complete. Laswell had practically dragged him to her office for a debrief as soon as Raven landed on the tarmac. She had him stuck in her office for nearly an hour before she finally dismissed him.
As he crossed the base to the 141’s building, Ghost wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with Soap and pass out for the next twenty-four hours, at least. He was expecting to see the other Werewolf asleep in Ghost’s bed, maybe hugging one of his pillows, but the man was nowhere to be seen when he opened the door.
The Brit quickly pulled off his gear, opting to return everything to the armory after he slept, before cutting through the bathroom to Soap’s room next door. Pushing aside the sheet that Soap had put over the doorway years ago, the Brit checked the room, but Soap wasn’t there either. It took Ghost a solid minute before he got an idea of where his partner was.
He left his room and went to Azrael’s right across the hall, quietly turning the handle and pushing her door open. And sure enough, there Soap was, passed out on the Elf’s bed with his head tucked against her ribs while his arms wrapped around her stomach. Azrael herself was clocked out, her upper back propped up by pillows, and her laptop on her lap, her head tipped to one side. Telila was stretched out on her other side, pressed between the Elf and the wall.
Ghost couldn’t help but smile at the sight; it was far from the first time he’d found the two like this. The first couple of times, Ghost had teased Soap until the Scot caught him, in his wolf form, with his head in Azrael’s lap after a particularly rough mission. After the first few times, the Elf told them that she didn’t mind if they fell asleep on her.
Azrael didn’t have one of her masks on; the black eye makeup she used was gone, too, leaving her scars and freckles more visible. The Elf looked at peace with her right hand in Soap’s grown-out, messy mohawk, and her left holding Telila’s head. Her own inky black locks were free from their usual messy braid, all her hair pushed to one side of her head, showing off one of the shaved sides.
With a hum, Ghost pushed off the door frame and crossed the room, sitting in the little nook behind Soap’s knees, finally noticing the Scot was wearing one of his hoodies. He did his damnedest not to wake the two up as he took the laptop, closed it, and placed the device on the bedside table. But despite his best effort, Azrael’s eyes fluttered as she woke up with a groan while Soap and Telila both slept like the dead.
“Hey, Simon.” Her accent was extremely thick as she spoke, voice heavy with sleep.
“Hey, I was trying not to wake ya.” Ghost made sure to keep his voice quiet.
“I know.” The Elf hummed, stretching the best she could without disrupting Soap or Telila, “When did you get back?”
“‘Bout an hour ago.” He sighed as he brushed his fingers along Soap’s back.
“It’s three am, Simon.” Azrael looked at the watch on her left wrist, “I know ya gotta be exhausted, you should get some sleep.”
It was at that moment that Soap stirred, pushing his face further against Azrael’s side, mumbling something in Gaelic that neither Ghost nor Azrael caught. The Elf scratched her blunt nails against the Scots’ scalp as her other hand scratched Telila between her ears. They both heard him groan before his eyes fluttered open.
The Werewolf seemed disoriented for a beat before he felt the hand lightly scratching along his spine. There were only two people who could touch him like that without immediately waking him up. One of which was lying in front of him. His head turned just enough to look behind him and lock eyes with Ghost.
“Yer back.” His accent came through heavily, a dopey smile on his face.
“Yeah, and ready to crash for a good while.” Ghost chuckled.
“Think you speak for all o’ us. Price has had us running drills with the privates for the past week.” Azrael groaned as her head tipped back and hit the headboard, “Those twats wouldn’t listen for shite, drove me insane. Gaz had to stop me from hurting them.”
“Now ya know why I avoid it as much as I can. Dealing with those kids mentally drains me more than anything.” Soap huffed.
“‘Those kids’ are only a few years younger than you both.” Ghost chuckled as they both mocked him, and Azrael rolled her eyes.
Soap groaned as he sat up and out of Azrael’s hold, brushing a few strands of hair out of his face.
“C’mon, let’s head ta bed.” He groaned, nudging Ghost to stand.
“Night boys.” Azrael hummed as she carefully moved Telila’s head off her neck.
“Night.” Ghost smiled as he led Soap back to his room.
“Could you not sleep or somethin’?” The Brit asked Soap as he sat on his bed, pulling his mask off and tossing it toward his desk.
“Nah, we just wanted to watch something and relax after dealing with the privates. Think I fell asleep after an hour or something.” Soap yawned, crawling under the sheets after he pulled off his trousers.
“Whatcha end up watchin’?” Ghost hummed, sitting on the edge to untie his boots and kick them aside, too tired to put them in their proper spot.
“Some fantasy movie. I can’t remember the name.” Soap muttered, quickly losing consciousness as Ghost undressed and crawled into bed with him.
“Go to sleep, love.” Ghost whispered as Soap fell asleep in seconds.
The Brit curled around Soap, his arms wrapping around the Scots’ waist. He heard Soap damn near purr and felt him wiggling the tiniest bit closer, so there was no space between them. The Brit smiled, planting a kiss on the back of Soap’s neck before he fell asleep himself.