Work Text:
Christmas was soon and a tradition the task force had started three years ago was decorating their Christmas tree with the worst pictures they could find of whoever’s name they pulled from a hat - It was funny enough even Ghost participated.
It was like a Secret Santa, sort of.
Roach had come prepared and had made sure the entire year no one would catch a bad photo of him.
And it had worked perfectly to his knowledge, up until it was Christmas Eve.
They gathered in the rec room as throughout the day everyone anonymously hung their pictures and laughed at each of them.
Soap had a picture hung of him looking half-asleep as he squints at the camera, his mouth slightly agape enough for it to look like he had one tooth.
The picture he’d hung was of Price hunched over - truly hunched over, head dropped fully forward in a slouch.
However, he noticed a picture of someone he didn’t immediately recognize untol he took a closer look and stared in absolute horror.
It was not a new image and was clearly printed off from an old source, the reflection of light at the centre of his pupils was present and the background was dead black in dim lighting.
He was clearly a teenager in it and had turned to face the camera with raised brows, lit joint pressed between his lips, and he held a toothy grin.
He had makeup on, dark eyeshadow below his eyes he had put too much of and uneven eyeliner and stud earrings, along with the eyebrow piercing he completely forgot he ever had.
He very much remembered that was the year he’d come to terms with liking guys and had attempted to fit in with the little culture of it he could, which meant for pictures like these to haunt him.
He turned, face fully red.
“Who put this one?”
No one came forward unless it was to look at it, then to him just to point and laugh.
“It’s anonymous, remember?” Soap stated like he was reading from a rule book and a few people booed at him for attempting to ruin it
“Naw cause it’s not funny! This pictures also like ten years old” Roach objected and Soap simply shook his head but it was Gaz that spoke up.
“There are no explicit rules for this aside from the fact the person has to be awake and it’s only preferred the images are recent - and you seem pretty lucid in that picture, mate” He pointed out and his picture went from a one time occurrence to an inside joke he couldn’t run from.
Ghost looked at the picture, then to him, then back to the picture.
“You ever gonna bring this look back?” He asked, sounding like he was biting back a smile.
Roach then looked over the tree and found he wasn’t anywhere on it, “Hey, you don’t have a picture up”
Ghost shrugged, “Guess no one pulled my name”
Roach was certain Ghost had one, cheated to allegedly not have his name pulled, and secondly was the one that got him.
So, after they dispersed he took it upon himself to find picture of Ghost as a teenager.
He’d have to have had social media at some point in his life somewhere in the 2000’s and he ended up on an elementary school page based in Manchester before finding a Highschool and pictures of a soccer team - Simon Riley listed as a player.
He paused right after that and thought about how petty he was being and it coild be considered bit creepy, but Ghost probably had to do the same things to have stumbled across that picture of him.
He searched the name of one of the other kids listed, which he had an arm around in the team photo - surely they were friends.
He went from some guys facebook account and eventually ended up on an alternative blog based website from the 2000’s, and Dear God it was a goldmine.
He’d found Ghost’s old account he had never taken down on there.
His username was ‘ZomGxtzz’, his bio listed his first name, his age at whatever time it’d last been updated - which was 16, followed by a list of things he was interested in, which mostly listed games and shows he didn’t recognize, probably because they were British.
The writing quirks and emoticons were hell to look over.
He narrowed it down to three pictures then he made his final decision, the one that really captured the 2000’s aura of being a teenager then.
It was Ghost in a white wife-beater, hands in too tight jeans only his finger tips fit in and chains hung off one side, blonde hair dyed black.
He clearly had makeup on, his cheeks were contoured to look like he had more defined cheek bones but it was done poorly and he had eyeliner that ran below his bottom lids and he had a few silver necklaces and a spiked collar.
It was also edited like it was a Twilight film, he was ghostly white in it, and there were a few poorly animated GIF’s and pictures tagged on the sides clearly meant to be edgy as they consisted of Spiders, webs, a few stars, skulls and knives.
The picture wasn’t utterly horrible aside from the jewelry and the editing but the caption was what truly topped it off.
‘Nang bush party w/ da peeps o-0, knackered by the end ov it XP’
There was something beautiful about the British internet in the 2000’s that the American side simply couldn’t capture.
But it was definitely the slang.
He took a screenshot of the web browser and printed the whole page out, in colour with the username and caption included.
He then went down to Ghosts room and knocked twice, followed by a third just to be sure.
When the door opened he was maskless, as if he expected him to come around and no one else.
“Guess what i’ve found” Roach couldn’t help the grin on his face and Ghost eyed him curiously before seeing the folded paper in his hands.
“What?” He awaited Roach to speak before taking the offered paper from him and unfolding it.
He then very quickly crumpled it.
“Where did you find that?” Ghost asked accusatorially while looking down the hall like someone would be listening into the conversation.
“Where’d that picture of me come from?” Roach shot right back.
“It wasn’t me”
Roach raised a brow at him and Ghost sighed which was practically a full confession from him.
He took the paper back from him, unfolding and trying to smooth it out on the door frame, holding it like a scroll before flipping it with a smile, “When are you bringing this look back?”
“Goodnight.”
“Quite knackered?” He laughed and Ghost was already shutting the door, calling out one last time, “Goodnight Roach.”
The next day, he’d printed another picture out from that same account and hung it on the tree.
He’s sat down, his hairs still black but looked longer and was in a fringe, probably older than the last picture and this one looked like it was taken on a computer camera rather than a digital camera.
He has the god forsaken collar on, with a handful of other silver necklaces and his hands are held up like claws, nails painted black, raccoon eyeliner on.
There were a few posters in the back that were hard to make out but he could vaguely make out the demolition lovers on one, the rest he didn’t recognize.
Ghost had come in right as he was taping it and they stared at each-other, then he looked at the picture, then to Roach, then lunged at him.
It happened so quickly he hadn’t any time to react other than take a few steps back - into the tree, which Ghost then slammed him into, hitting the wall and the tree began to fall.
Both of them realized the mistake and made an attempt to catch it, Ghost got an awkward grip on it then slowly lowered it to the ground.
Roach then looked to the wall behind him and it looked fine if you ignored the fact it dipped inwards now and would easily be covered.
The two of them put the tree back up and fixed the ornaments, then Roach took the printed photo and taped it over the divot in the wall.
“You aren’t using that to cover the wall” Ghost objected, reaching past him to take it off the wall, but Roach was quicker and shoved his hand.
Ghost continued trying to reach past him, Roach grabbed both of his wrists, not tightly enough as he got free and went to grab it again, then quickly grabbed his wirst when he went to stop him.
They wrestled with each-other for maybe ten more seconds before Roach could process a thought.
He let his arms go slack and stopped fighting the force Ghost was putting on him, and clearly he hadn’t thought long enough as he immediately got shoved backwards, and nearly right into the wall again had Ghost not caught himself right as it happened.
Both of them let go of each-other, then Roach took the photo and bolted.
He passed Soap who watched him run and was going to ask, before he saw Ghost coming right after him and took off in a run right after him.
Roach got to the end of a hall and took a sharp turn and cartoonishly skidded to a halt, Soap nearly slammed into him before they were both going back to running, going out the double exit doors then running around the building until they didn’t hear Ghost chasing them down.
“What’d you do?” Soap asked and Roach unfolded and showed him the picture like ot was a trophy.
He processed it, brows immediately raising and his mouth dropping in a smile, “Thats Ghost?”
“Someone needed to get a bad picture of him for the tree, dude, the entire account is so bad” Roach laughed and Soap placed his hands together in a prayer motion.
“Send me it, i’m begging”
Right as Roach was about to respond, Ghost was suddenly to his right and now had him by the scruff of his neck.
“Jesus Christ!” He yelped out, the paper was taken right from him and crumpled.
Soap laughed at him and was walking away like nothing happened, stopping inside, right past the entrance doors for them to come back in.
A few people from the task force had come out to see what the fuss was and watched Ghost drag him back in, still holding him by the back of his neck.
However as they step in, everyone starts pointing at the doorway and collectively going ‘oooh’ like children.
There’s a mistletoe hung which certainly wasn’t there when they’d come running out.
Roach stared at Soap who stood with his hands behind his back and a smile.
“Oh my God” He muttered and Ghost let him go and attempted to shoulder past the group which Archer, Toad and Meat made a wall to keep him from leaving.
“We all know you’re secretly married, just do it” Chemo accused.
“We are not married!” Roach objected, he always went red in the face when they insinuated they were and it never once helped their case.
Ghost never cared about it and of course, being the man he is, also had a jealousy streak a mile wide and had made it clear he didn’t mind the comparison to Gary.
Plus both of them maybe overstepped the line of friends when someone tried talking the other up.
But it was all just banter and now that he was rethinking the entire thing he processed how childish the entire thing was and new full well he’d have never done all this for anyone else and had searched for an hour to even get to that web page.
“I’m not kissing him” Roach stated finally, crossing his arms, then glanced to Ghost just to see him doing the exact same pose.
He threw his hands up, turning to find another entrance outside “God, we are married”
The Christmas tree had been taken down and packed up to collect dust until the next year, New Years the expected follow up already accommodated for and soon a handful of festive dollar store attire were handed out - rather tossed on a table which everyone dug through to find what they preferred, the loud items were taken first and everyone who had a noisemaker blew and honked at each other, then were threatened to be confiscated five minutes after.
The plan was to go into the city which was a 45 minute drive out, the main reason was to see the fireworks they shot downtown and the bars were bigger and had more drink options.
It had been Soap’s idea, Archer and Toad had jumped at the idea and invited anyone that would listen.
Roach had been sat at his desk, trying to finish a mission report that had slipped his mind, which while trying to focus was not getting any farther than where he’d left off, unable to stop fidgeting or entirely giving up for a few minutes before forcing himself back on task before Archer came from no where and started begging him to come into the city with them.
“Please, come” Archer was holding his hands together in a pleading motion, head bowed as Roach stared at him unimpressed, arms crossed.
“Yeah, mate, i’m not interested” He repeated, it was the only thing he had said the entire conversation and somehow the message was not delivering.
“Ghost is going” He added
“No he’s not” Roach interjected, and Arched looked unconvinced at him,
“How would you know?”
“It’s called conversation, we talk” Roach snapped, although neither of them talked about their New Years plans, “Also it’s common sense he’s got no interest for watching fireworks or busy crowds, and he hates drinking”
“You sure know a lot ‘bout him for not being married”
“Shut it” Roach ordered and had walked away, which maybe he hadn’t spoken clear enough as he was now being pestered further by both Archer and Toad.
He told the both of them to piss off and had missed the look they gave each-other before disappearing somewhere.
Maybe ten or twenty minutes later - Roach had a terrible sense of time if he wasn’t avidly watching the seconds tick by, before he heard a pair of footsteps and a hushed conversation he didn’t care for until he looked over to see Ghost, looking out of his element - Awkward was the word to describe him.
“All good?” He asked and it seemed like the prompt he needed as he walked to stand right beside him, glancing at the screen then back to him.
“You’re going to the thing” Ghost spoke before realizing he hadn’t asked it as a question.
Roach stared at him for a few seconds, not processing exactly what he said or was trying to order him to do “What?”
He rephrased “You goin’ to see the fireworks?”
“Oh!” He snapped his fingers and nodded his head in understanding, “Are you?”
“Yeah” Ghost answered
“Huh”
“What?”
“Just not like you is all”
“Can’t want to see fireworks?”
“You hate fun” Roach pointed out, pausing before he answered, running a hand through his hair, “Yeah, i’m going”
Ghost nodded before getting out a clipped ‘see you’ as he walked off too quickly to be natural.
The day of, the car pool groups had been made, Ghost volunteered to drive there and Roach argued to be the designated driver and won to drive them back after pestering Ghost to stop being so uptight.
Roach ended up in shot gun and had immediately taken over the aux just to play performative music and very dramatically screaming Jeff Buckley lyrics before accepting song requests.
For having not wanted to go he was having the time of his life.
They got to the bar, rest of the people that agreed to come, in the task force or otherwise had gotten there a few minutes before they did, inside was packed.
Maybe ten minutes after they got in, a no loitering sign was posted and people were turned away from the bar, a few groups departed, deciding it wasn’t worth the wait to get seats or a drink.
Roach pushed his way through the crowd and took up an empty stool no one had claimed, quite frankly it was too loud for him and he was the last person to be shy.
He still spoke to strangers and people he recognized from base he never spoke to before, the bartender eventually took his order and handed him a coke.
He eased into the atmosphere and noticed the people inside died out as they left, it had been hot for him being sober, being drunk couldn’t have helped.
He hardly spoke to anyone from the task force as they appeared to be wrapped in their own conversations and antics, a few going in and out to cool off.
He hadn’t noticed Ghost was no where to be seen until 10:52, when he was suddenly stood beside him, clearly wasted.
His mask was missing and his face was flushed.
“What have you been’ doing?” Roach asked and Ghost just stared at him, he hadn’t quite heard him, swaying where he stood as he leant against the bar.
“Hm?” Ghost squinted at him and leaned closer.
“What have you been doing?” He repeated, punctuating each word clearly.
“Oh, got drinks, and then, uh,” He trailed off, still looking right at Roach, “Jesus, are you taken?”
“What?” Roach asked
“You, are you dating?”
“I’m.. dating..?” He answered, quite uncertain what he was meaning to ask.
“What?” Ghost stared at him with his brows furrowed, before he scoffed, “‘nd y’re j’st by yerself?”
If his accent got any thicker Roach wouldn’t be able to make out anything he was saying.
“You sh’ld be wit someone tha’ dun’t jus’ leave ye be”
“Ghost, i’m not dating anyone - I thought you were asking if I was open to date”
“Oh”
“You should drink water” Roach decided, looking to the bartender who looked quite ready to drop dead on the spot, but somehow was functioning fine.
“Didn’t tell ye t’ look at oth’r guys” He muttered, before he was leaning forward and Roach worried he’d tip right over, put his left hand on his waist and his right to his shoulder to steady him.
Ghost nudged the hand on his shoulder off before he was sat on his knees on the floor, face down on Roaches lap, uncaring as he attempted to pull him back up.
“What are you doing?”
“I didn’ tell ye, y’r perty ‘andsme” He slurred, turning his head to look up at him, a dazed look in his eyes, shutting them and letting his head loll to the side when a hand cradled the side of his face.
“You don’t know what you’re saying, mate”
“Ye look gud” He reiterated
“Dear God” Roach sighed, before he finally got to order a water but upon looking down, Ghost had fallen right asleep.
He certainly felt a few of the task-force members staring at them and when he turned watched them look away with too much force, although he certainly watched Chemo take a picture.
Roach forced him to wake up ten minutes later and made him drink the entire water.
He got back up and was already looking a lot more lucid, words less slurred and he stood without swaying.
“Oh, Gods” Roach heard him mutter as he rubbed over his eyes, maybe embarrassed at what he’d drunkenly said.
“You still think im pretty handsome?” He asked and Ghost side-eyed him.
“I think you’re too cocky” He looked away, muttering “But, you are”
Roach stared at him, very slowly processing what he’d heard.
“.. Huh?”
He didn’t receive an answer as there were five minutes to midnight and Soap had found and dragged them through the crowd, out onto the street.
They stood at the back of the group, everyone staring up waiting to start their count, final shots taken as they talked and laughed.
“I think i’m owed something” Roach spoke, looking at the empty night sky, city lights too bright to let anything celestial hit their eyes.
“Owed what?”
“A kiss” He inwardly cringed, covering his own face with a hand, disappointed in himself.
“.. What?”
“Never mind” He waved off, praying Ghost would drop it.
“You want -? Me?”
“The - the mistletoe from Christmas,” He clarified, “It’s just a joke”
Silenced passed between the two of them, certainly awkward as Roach prayed he’d be suddenly sent to hell so he could escape the interaction.
Then again why would the devil grace him from the consequences of his actions?
“Wouldn’t it be two?” Ghost spoke up, Roach looked to him, brows raised.
“Huh?”
“Wouldn’t you be owed two? - kisses?”
“Mistletoe and New Years?”
“Yeah” Ghost confirmed with a nod.
“Don’t think im slick enough for two” Roach shrugged.
“I think you could manage”
“You think i’m worthy enough to get two kisses?”
“Course i’d say so” Ghost spoke like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Roach could never pinpoint exactly when their banter transformed into them being dead serious because he was pretty sure he always folded first, wearing his heart on his sleeve.
“You think I could bargain for a third?” He asked, quite certain he was starting to flush red for a reason other than the cold wind the occasionally nipped his cheeks.
“Many as you wanted, in my opinion”
“Might take you up on that deal”
“Who said it was a deal?”
“Who else are you offering that wants to kiss me more than once?”
“You two make me sick when you flirt and I hate you and we all hope your marriage fails” Gaz spoke up, arm hung over Soaps shoulder as he nodded, drunkenly agreeing.
“Bah Humbag!” He added on as a joyous afterthought, which is repeated back to him by a few other drunkards.
“What, does that make you our children?”
“Soap’s the youngest” Gaz stated, and Soap made a noise of discontent at his side, standing straighter as the announcement for the countdown begins.
They yell down from 10, Ghost makes his decision, hand in his sweater pocket clenched tight.
By 8, Roach makes his own and they’ve glanced at each-other twice.
7, “You think we’ll be stuck here another year?” Roach asks - 6 and 5 are shouted.
“Maybe” Ghost shrugged - 4.
It does not take either of them by surprise when someone yells out a groan as someone else hurls - 3, everyone’s noticeably louder.
Roach nudges Ghost in the side with his elbow, they’re looking at each-other - 2
At 1, Roach grabbed a fistful of his shirt, moving without quite thinking, he bumped their noses painfully - neither of them cared, only properly accommodating the second time with a head tilt.
0 they were already kissing, Roach had believed it’d just be a peck but he couldn’t process time, he was shit at keeping track even when he counted the seconds.
They pulled back for a moment, Roach touched his nose where it hurt, not wincing when it stung to press before kissing him a second time like he was sealing a promise.
The fireworks ended up being lacklustre, no one complained as the group filed back into their respective cars, Roach took the wheel and handed the aux off to Soap.
The next morning, Roach had gotten up and dressed how he always did and upon stepping out of his room and turning to lock the door he paused, staring at the polaroid photo taped.
It was him sat at the stool with a passed out Ghost face down on his lap, one hand having dropped where he’d originally grabbed the side of his shirt.
Roach took it down and shoved it in his pocket, at mess he joined where Gaz sat, always there earlier than anyone else.
He slid over a face down ornament picture frame, when flipped was the same one from Christmas.
Roach stared at it, then Gaz, before picking it up, the stupid picture of him with shitty eyeliner and red eyes staring back at him.
“It was you” Roach looked at Gaz, a sense of betrayal and stupidity on his end settling.
“You’re welcome” Was the only thing he said as he stood and slid his chair back in, tray in hand.
“I did all that for nothing!” Roach complained, watching as he walked away and no response was given, he had all the time in the world to rethinking how he’d spent his efforts just to be wrong.
Still looking at the picture, he started reminiscing, a sense of nostalgia setting in - He had been there in that picture in that terrible makeup at 17, and now he was 28.
it had been a decade and it had taken that long for to not hate his preference for men.
he was certainly less scared than he had at 17, one of few moments of the joy in being queer encapsulated in a photo where he wore makeup a decade ago.