Chapter Text
“What do you mean?”
This was not how Ghost had expected the evening to go. He and Soap had been joking around, as had become commonplace for them. They were sprawled out in Soap’s room, just talking. He didn’t know how Soap had done it - Ghost had never been a particularly talkative person, he’d just never really felt like he had much to say and was always happier to just listen, but with Soap he found himself talking about anything and everything. And that was how he’d gotten himself into this mess.
“You’re saying you have no experience?” Soap’s tone was incredulous. “But you know a lot, you talk about it.”
“Yeah?”, his gut churned a little uncomfortably as he tried to work out how to explain it. “It’s just… I’ve never had much interest, I guess.”
“What do you even mean? Like, never? But you must get yourself off, right?” Soap was the epitome of skepticism, like he was waiting for Ghost to reveal it was all an elaborate prank and say ‘just joking!’.
“For fucks sake, Johnny”, he huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, I do sometimes, but not often. And even then it’s just… quick. Like I’m just getting a job done, there’s not really much to it. But I don’t really know how it works for other people.”
“So, like… you don’t get horny? You’re not turned on by stuff?”
“Soap! For crying out loud…”, he could feel the heat creeping across his cheeks, wishes he could blame it on the bourbon he was sipping.
“What?! I’m not… trying to be invasive, I’m just interested. You don’t have to tell me, I just want to understand”, he sounded so sincere that Ghost couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed.
“I guess I am, sometimes. I think I need more connection with a person first, maybe, to properly feel it? And I do, uh, get turned on, I guess. I read a lot, and learn a lot about kink especially just out of curiosity, and sometimes realise that I could be into it. But it’s… muffled, like I can’t quite apply it to myself. And I can pretty much always ignore it. Does that make sense?” The heat was blooming across his neck and chest now.
“Yeah, I think so. So you learn about kink?” He didn’t hear any judgment in Soap’s voice, just genuine curiosity.
“Yeah, it’s interesting, I guess. And the whole… communication aspect of it, the fact it’s not necessarily a sex thing but a connection thing. It’s pretty cool. So I know plenty about that, but not necessarily the, like, mechanics of the act itself. Keep thinking I might go to an event or something, there’s some stuff I’d be interested to try, but I think it would be too hard to find someone I’d feel comfortable teaching me.”
“And, uh… did you want to know?”
“What?”
“How it works for other people? When they get off?” The tension grew between them, and suddenly the space between where they sprawled out across Soap’s bed felt like nothing.
“Are you offering, Johnny?” He meant it to sound like a joke, but his voice came out thick and croaky, far too affected.
“Yeah, guess I am, LT. If you’re interested.” His voice shook a little too, lower lip extra swollen and pouty where he’d been chewing at it. Ghost wanted to bite it himself, and the notion surprised him. He knew he’d been more interested in Johnny than he ever had been to anyone else before, and had a few less than innocent thoughts about him, but this - explicitly wanting something intimate with him - was new. A good new, but new nonetheless. He took a few seconds to properly think it through and check in with himself, the tension only growing in the silence before he answered.
“Yeah”, he whispered. “I want to see. I want you to show me.”
Soap pulled himself up to sit against the head of the bed, fingers toying with the hem of his T-shirt.
“A hundred percent sure? Tell me if you want to stop, okay?”
Ghost swallowed hard before speaking. “Definitely. Same for you, okay? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable with this, I don’t want to make it weird.”
“S’not weird. I’m happy.”
“Can we… how do you feel about a traffic light system? To check in, honest answers only so we know where we stand?” He found himself mesmerised by the flush spreading down Soap’s neck, wondered if it spread across his chest, couldn’t wait to find out.
“Okay, that sounds good. We good?”
“Yeah”, Ghost breathed, eyes fixated on where Soap slowly, so tantalisingly slowly, lifted the hem of his T-shirt. Inch by inch more and more skin was exposed, and though Ghost had seen him without a shirt before he’d never really allowed himself to look. Now, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the muscles rippling as Soap moved, skin marred with scars like they all were, but more tan than Ghost’s. He couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel under his fingertips, whether it would be as soft as it looked. He was covered in hair, a thick trail from his belly button leading temptingly into the waistband sat low on his hips.
“As impatient as I normally am, the trick is to go slow. You need to seduce yourself, basically. Don’t just rush into it.” As he spoke, Soap brushed his fingers over his skin, a featherlight touch tracing from his neck, across his shoulders, down his chest. He didn’t go in direct lines, but rather swirling patterns, clearly repeating the motions on areas that felt particularly good. As he scraped his nails lightly over his chest, he gasped, and the sound shot straight through Ghost.
“You need something to think about, a scene to set for yourself. It just builds on the experience.” His voice was shaky as his breaths stuttered, goosebumps scattering across his skin that Ghost wanted to chase with his tongue.
“What do you think about?”, he couldn’t stop himself from rasping.
“I don’t need to think about anything right now”, Soap traced his gaze down the entire length of Ghost where he’d propped himself up against the foot of the bed.
“But what do you think about normally?” He didn’t know what he expected Soap to say, but what he blurted out just about knocked all the air from his lungs.
“You.” The room stilled as Soap halted his movements for a few seconds until Ghost nodded at him to continue.
“Started with a wet dream. Colour?”
“Green.”, he was more than confident in that, voice strong, impatient to hear what Soap was going to say next.
“Think we’d been sparring, and you pinned me, and it was just something about the way you had my wrists pressed into the mat, thighs holding me down.” Ghost knew well what he meant, he’d run out like a coward not long after and had to pretend it never happened, for his own sanity. “Couldn’t stop thinking about it, and then I woke up, cum all over my bedsheets where I’d been fucking into them like a horny teenager.” Christ, that image… Heat blazed through Ghost at the thought of it.
“Couldn’t stop after that. Found myself thinking about it every time I jacked off. Think you nearly caught me once and that only made me cum harder, like a fucking perv.” His fingertips were ghosting along his waistband now, and then easing the button undone and the fly down, and it felt like there was no air left in the room.
Soap paused, thumbs tucked into the waistband, “Colour?”
“Green”, it was barely more than a breath, but Soap understood him. He shimmied his jeans down, and Ghost found his gaze caught on the telltale wet spot on his underwear, whine trapped in his throat as he dug his teeth into his lower lip so hard he was surprised it didn’t bleed. Finally, Soap slid his boxers off, throwing them onto the floor. Ghost didn’t care about that at all, all he could focus on was the heavy, hard length resting in Soap’s hand. He held it loosely, giving a couple of light strokes before speaking again.
“This needs attention”, his voice had dropped to a lower octave that sent shivers down Ghost’s spine, and he ran his thumb I’ve the tip, spreading the sticky precum that had gathered there. “It’s best with some kind of lube - precum, spit, actual lube. Just depends, I guess.” He was moving a little faster now, more pressure and firmer swipes across the tip that made the breath stutter out of his lungs and his hips cant up. Ghost shifted slightly, and Soap’s eyes shot to his face.
“Want help, or want to help?” It wasn’t particularly expressive, but Ghost knew exactly what he meant as he moved onto his knees, happily shifting to sit between Soap’s spread thighs.
“Want to help. Want you to show me.” He held his hand out shakily, and Soap pulled it toward him, palm up under his chin.
“Okay?”
“Definitely.”
With that, Soap let the spit pool in his mouth before letting it run off his tongue into Ghost’s waiting palm. He was captivated by the string of drool attached to Soap’s lower lip, and only hesitated for a moment before leaning forward and swiping his tongue across it. He didn’t kiss him, didn’t do any more than collect his spit on his own tongue and pulling it into his mouth. As many barriers as they’d already broken through, and as many more lines as they were about to cross, that seemed like one too many. Not until they’d had an actual conversation - a long overdue conversation, by the sounds of it.
Instead, he lowered his hand, allowing Soap to guide him. Pausing a moment, hand hovering, he made sure to check in first, “Colour?”
“Yes, green, please”, Soap sounded almost desperate and it sent more heat shooting through Ghost. He wrapped his fingers tightly around Soap’s thick cock, relishing in the heat of it and the way Soap’s hip rocked up into his hand and a quiet grunt fell from his mouth.
He moved slowly at first, long hard pulls up Soap’s length, before he experimentally ran his thumb over the tip, and then around it, along the veins running down the the base. He anchored himself with one hand gripping Soap’s hip tightly, one of Soap’s hand wrapping around his bicep in return. The light gasps and moans from Soap were like music to his ears, coupled with the encouraging compliments.
“Just like that, fuck- Simon, that’s fucking perfect. So good, so fucking good, don’t you dare stop.” For Ghost only, murmured into his ear on hitched breaths and melodic moans. “Yes yes yes, just- fuck!” His hips stuttered a little, thrusting into Ghost’s hand. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward a little, crowding into Soap’s space just enough to brush his lips over Soap’s shoulder, followed by his teeth - just a light brush, listening for any discontent before sinking them in. Not too hard, not without actually asking, but enough to mark, enough to sting. He was obsessed with the thought of Soap being marked by him, bite marks scattering across his skin. Soap clearly wasn’t averse to it either, because a high whine crawled up his throat, hips jerking hard.
“Fuck, I’m gonna- I’m about to cum, Simon, please”, Ghost didn’t stop his movements, pulling back enough to watch Soap’s face as he came hard, hot ropes of cum coating Ghost’s hand and Soap’s torso. He worked him through it until Soap whined with overstimulation.
“Yeah, I reckon you’re a quick learner”, he murmured and Ghost chuffed out a laugh.
“You okay?”
“Fucking perfect. You?”, Soap blearily opened one eye to watch his face, chest heaving.
“Yeah, perfect.” Silence blanketed them for a few minutes before Soap spoke again.
“Are we… we should probably talk, right?”, he sounded uncertain.
“Yeah, but maybe not right now? It’s late, and… yeah, tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow.” Soap agreed, and Ghost desperately wanted to press a kiss to his lips, but he couldn’t. Maybe tomorrow.
They awkwardly parted ways, Ghost rushing back into his own room, heart feeling like it was about to beat out of his chest. Shit.