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Ghost had expected this mission to be short and not a pain in the ass. He was wrong.
He had his suspicions on Soap since Las Almas, he was bleeding and running on nothing but fear and adrenaline, yet the man survived and less than 24 hours later he was ready to help him and Rudy break into the prison near Las Almas and get Alejandro back, with barely an hour or two of sleep in his body. Sure, a soldier in the S.A.S. could do anything, but there were limits to the human body. He thought that the man couldn’t surprise him more— considering that he deserved to get some good stuff to get him to sleep and stay in bed for a week if he wanted— and he fought even in Chicago like a madman against that crazy shit Hassan. Against a fucking terrorist organization that wanted to explode a whole city. And he won, they won, perfect shot L.t. and all that made his heart skip a beat. And then even at the bar, he looked as lively as usual, and not like a man who in the span of four days got an overnight mission, betrayed, shot, shocked, barely slept, broke in a prison and fought half a platoon all by himself (even if with some help from Gaz).
Ghost knew Soap was not human, he just couldn’t prove it.
Mission after mission, watching the leaves all leave the trees and then being replaced by sprouts, bulbs and the flowers, he watched him. He probably looked crazy (not just for the mask), but he knew Soap was not human. He never shared that thought with anyone. Not human… Then what was he? Why was he in the S.A.S.? How did he get in? Ghost asked himself many questions, most of them could be answered pretty fast and with little to no doubts in the answers he got. But this one was not an easy question to ask, let alone one that had a simple answer.
He had asked for Soap's documents from Price, and with little to no resistance, he got them. He analyzed them, looked up the information, even questioned the validity of them, but got nothing if not that John MacTavish was a damn good soldier. He had kept an eye on Soap for many months afterwards, yet all he got were just the tricks he used to pass as human or his inhuman moments, where he never developed the courage to ask— either by not wanting to ruin a moment where they were so close that Ghost could almost touch him, or because anyone else was with them at the moment— and was left with even more questions.
He had watched Soap get shot and get back up when the man thought no one was looking, fishing a bullet out of his own flesh, his fingers covered in dark red blood that wasn't blood at all and threw it on the ground— looking at it like it was an insect, unworthy of his attention— and not as if it could have killed him if he was human. Honestly Ghost wasn't even sure if Soap let him know he wasn't human by his will or if Ghost had been lucky. Or maybe he was just snooping where he shouldn't have, but that thought never stopped him, honestly. All he knew now was that he loved him regardless.
Ever since fucking Las Almas, with his flirty comebacks and not so subtle flirting in his tone he had fallen in love with Sergeant John “Soap” MacTavish so hard he might have gotten a concussion from the fall. Fuck him. Or maybe he should fuck Soap about that—not that it was a through that crossed his mind rarely— but he had never thought he could get this honestly. He thought he was trapped in his own head, forced to live the nightmares forever, every night being a painful cold shower of emotions and feelings he never wanted to unpack and that he regurgitated on his enemies through his rifles and knives and repressed violence. He feared he was too broken to ever love again, to ever feel human again. But he was wrong. Ever since he and Soap had sat one near the other in that bar in Chicago his nightmares have soothed into background noise— more often though— they have also been replaced by dreams of Soap. Obviously wet dreams, like a fucking teenage boy getting his first crush.
Something pulled him towards Soap, he couldn’t deny it, from the scalding hot hand on his thigh when he looked at that photograph of Makarov— Soap's skin almost burning hit against his flesh that it made him jump on his seat— to the casual touches that would leave him relaxed and better for a few moments, to the warm smiles. The man was attractive, he had horrible jokes and that haircut that forced Simon to tell himself to stop having dirty thoughts about your sergeant and he began to see him in another light, despite his nature of monster, or for worse— of which he constantly suppressed the thought of— because he wasn't human. It was wrong, so fucking unprofessional and not normal for him to dream of his sergeant while cuddling together or touching him and his hot skin under his fingertips until the touches became caresses, the caresses exploration and the exploration kisses so sweet he woke up with his eyes wet and his throat dry. He craved for Johnny's touch on him, a true gift that he would kill for.
He knew it was impossible to have that, he was a broken man, Soap was a monster, one who so far had only shown him friendliness and nothing more. They shouldn't have worked at all. He shouldn't have even been thinking about having more. And then, after that year's Christmas, after the bad memories that would constantly resurface during the festivities (he hadn't noticed it, but Soap had been careful with the topic around him, he only mentioned having an OP near Christmas and helped Ghost getting more comfortable by treating him like every other day of the year), after the new years eve his dreams had started to get more active. He often found himself unable to stop when they started kissing, he was the one letting Soap push him on his bed— why would he let Soap push him on his bed? What the hell was wrong with him? Had he not sworn to himself that he wouldn’t have lived through the humiliation again?— and their kisses going from sweet to heated in a matter of seconds, him letting Soap grind on top of him and losing his mind when they humped against each other, his own dick stimulated by those moments.
He often woke up with his briefs wet.
He ignored those dreams harder, the red hot shame of his imagination made him lower his eyes every time he approached the sergeant. What a creep he must have looked, the masked menace of the S.A.S. firstly looking at him with such sweet eyes and then refusing categorically to look at him. He tried to be a little colder every time, another hug avoided, another fist he endured, but Soap was just so… Irresistible.
He often catched himself hoping to get something from him, but he also never realised that Soap wanted more. As the stupid man he was cursed to be, obviously.
Ghost had expected this mission to be short and not a pain in the ass. Again.
They had to steal information from somewhere in Hungaria, some terroristic organization that wanted to fuck around eastern Europe and watch the world burn. The building wasn't big, it hid easily in the low forest and one could have dismissed it as a random warehouse. Rectangular three story building with a singular flight of stairs going up, no elevator, small windows, no signs of usage from someone that wasn't the terrorists so far and a pseudo-labirinth of protective walls around it.
He was running towards cover, there were too many guards for this to be a missed number in the intel they were given. The enemy was expecting them. He heard Soap on comms, taking a deep breath, hidden better than him but several meters behind him. Ghost was both thankful and hated the maze-like walls. Cover for both sides and a shit visual on the target too.
«Ghost, I can attack them from her’…» Soap said panting, having probably just run for a while and avoiding rains of bullets as fast as possible, probably trying to get closer too, considering how much more clearly he could hear Soap now and how their comms weren’t as slow as before. He noticed how his words were chosen carefully and left loose. Something that couldn’t be listened to from someone that wasn't just him.
Ghost hoped he was reading the situation the right way and he switched channel as fast as he could. «Watcher-1, requesting a private channel between Bravo 7-0 and Bravo 7-1,» He heard Laswell shuffle through some buttons.
«Done» He heard an additional click and then their channel was privateed, he switched back to their private channel and waited for Soap who must have been alerted of the private channel. That was all he got now, him, Soap and a bunch of soldiers to kill. They were dark from Laswell.
«Soap, how do you attack them from there?» He asked, trying not to sound skeptical but also scared to pour his heart right there for him to see if those were the last moments of his life.
«Do ye trust me L.t.? Ye have to believe me.» Soap asked, sounding almost scared. No, scared was wrong, scared was not something Soap did. More likely he had a crazy plan as usual that would somehow work. But a tiny thought crossed Ghost's mind when the silence prolonged for too long. Was Soap about to reveal to him that he was not human? Was Ghost already supposed to know that?
He took a deep breath to steady himself, hearing Soap call him again «L.t.? How copy?»
«Solid, Johnny.» He paused, not knowing what to say next. So he went all in. After all, if he died there what was the point in keeping it a secret between them? «I do trust you, Johnny, with all of my life and more. I trust you and I know you are not human, what's the plan Soap?» He felt his voice get unsteady on the last few words— fucking emotions and stuff, why did they have to come out now of all times— and felt his heartbeat start getting faster and faster as the seconds went by. He breathed in. Out. Closed his eyes waiting for something that wasn't shouts of the guards or bullets being constantly shot in his direction. The silence of comms made him start shaking. Had he done something wrong? He closed his eyes, trying to return to his professional state, he had to focus back on the mission. The guards, the wrong intel, the objective and the evac. Ok, he had to say something less stupid and get Soap back to work.
He felt a soft hand on his chin, the only thing stopping his skin from burning at the contact was his skulled balaclava, he realised, as Soap lifted his face delicately. His heartbeat spiked, he opened his eyes and met sky blue irises being swallowed up by black pupils. Not human. Hevalso realised Soap was much, much taller than him, he must have been over two meters in that moment.
He could barely open his lips, feeling his eyes burn. He was beautiful. His tac vest looked small on him now, along with the rest of the equipment, his helmet had been discharged and kept under his arm, his mohawk, now longer and a deep shade of red, protruding from dark hair that now had softened and covered most of his body was framed by two horns that travelled around his head like a crown. He was bigger overall, so big in fact that Ghost felt dwarfed by him. His face was still weirdly human-like, but his eyes had captured him in their unnaturally bright colour. After what seemed like silence— actual silence— the noise of the world came crushing back on him as Soap spoke to him.
Soap's voice was even lower now, his accent thicker than usual. Fucking hot. «Fer how long have ye ken?» when his lips parted he could see his teeth had sharpened and his tongue darkened into a deeper almost-black colour on the tip.
Many unprofessional thoughts stretched through Ghost's mind at that moment, feeling his core wetten and punching as hard as possible his metaphorical self since he was supposed to keep his mind on the job, yet his mind wondered just for a few seconds, Soap's teeth on him, leaving red marks on his skin and leaving hickeys on his neck, but he forced himself to part his lips and punch those thoughts back into the back of his mind. Along with fetching back whatever little professionalism he could keep.
«I– I didn’t really have a moment…» for when I realised I had fallen deeply in love with you. Because both happened at the same time.
«Mmh…» Soap inspected his face— or what could be seen of it through the eye holes— to try and see if he was lying. «L.t., ye should stay here, ‘right? I'll take care of them.» Soap asked, what a gentle action of him, despite genuinely looking like he could outright eat Ghost as a meal no, keep that stuff to yourself you creep, he is a coworker for fucks sake.
Ghost's mouth was suddenly dry, trying to get the words out, anything that wasn't outright a love confession would have worked. «How… Are we supposed to write this on the mission report?» It was the stupidest question he had, but he would ask anything to keep Soap near him. To keep this sight alive, to keep the dream lengthen, to pray that he wasn't just imagining this as he died.
Soap got even lower behind Ghost, as if he wasn't a giant… Demon? Whatever, something that wouldn’t die. Ghost was sure of that. Soap lowered himself closer to Ghost, now they were sharing air and Soap had a look of determination in his eyes that Ghost didn’t understand for a moment. «We had a wee bit of luck… And worked our way through killing them, I guess. It's not like Price is going to come back here to inspect the bodies, right?» His tone was almost too excited to be saying it with the same tone as a teenager inventing an excuse to reassure their peers with a simple lie they could all tell once they got back from some unapproved activity. He looked younger in this for,. somehow.
It almost reminded him of that, just on a bigger scale, with a few too many enemies lying around and his sergeant that wasn't human. Nothing made sense in Ghost's head, and maybe that was why all that came out of his mouth was some incoherent babbling and probably an approving sound.
«Sir, permission tae engage?» Soap asked, now about to get up and make a massacre of those poor enemies that were waiting for him.
«Permission granted.» Ghost wasn't even able to finish his sentence before he ran out of their hiding spot, bullets bouncing off of his thick skin and barely slowing down his movement. Ghost had to watch from his hiding spot, moving forward as Soap cleaned the ground for him, leaving bodies of guards with their skulls crushed by his bare hands.
Ghost had no idea what went through him as he saw the destruction Soap was able to bring in this new form, and he had no idea on how to make it stop affecting him so badly. He felt his dick twitch in his pants, jumping at the same time as his heart, but between his legs. Holy fuck. He liked Soap even more in this way.
This time he really couldn’t even tell himself to stop, his mind already gone into a blank haze of soft touches and sharp teeth that he was only able to get out of after hearing his name being called out. For how long had he stayed there, standing in the middle of nowhere zooming out?
«Ghost? Whit are you waiting for, special invitin’? Let's get this done, aye?» Soap had asked, returning to his more human form but with all his clothes stretched out over him. Soap started fixing his tac-vest's straps again, to get at least that to fit snugly on him, but Ghost was a bit distracted by his smile, still unnaturally non-human.
«No sergeant, let's get this done, you're right.» As he approached Soap he took his helmet, which laid discharged near his old location— he hadn't noticed Soap dropping it there as he was too focused on his extremely powerful body at the time— and handed it to Soap. Their hands didn’t touch or brush against each other but he could feel the physical heat that Soap's body seemed to be reeking in and he could feel his cheeks getting hotter what was that, a shitty romcom? He was unnaturally hot, but Ghost didn’t even question it.
They got inside the building, that had barely noticed their fight with the guards, and was weirdly empty so they retrieved the information they had to steal, copied it on their own tech— Soap knew more about what it was than he ever could— and walked out basically unbothered. Or rather Soap looked perfectly fine and unbothered and Ghost was half lost in dirty fantasies about the man right to his side. They walked to the exfil location and waited.
For the first few minutes Soap seemed to be simply fidgeting with his combat knife, but then he stopped and looked directly at Ghost, who took a few seconds to look back— perplexed too.
Soap opened his mouth, taking a deep breath, almost smooth but not quite. His voice was a little deeper than normal, but Ghost didn't point it out to him. «Ye ken, if you want tae talk aboot that we–»
«It's alright, Johnny. I simply didn't expect to get confirmation this way.» Ghost tried to avoid the argument. How was he supposed to go through all of that? Really.
Oh yeah, ever since Las Almas I had my suspicions that you weren't human but I never pointed it out since if you were human it would have been really weird and uncomfortable so I just kept the thought to myself because I loved you too much and I didn’t want our dynamic to change in any way and now you revealed your identity to me during this particular mission because we would have died otherwise and I really appreciate your trust in me but I’m also scared that I’m fucking up all of this in some way. Hehe, you know how it is, just a normal day in our field of work, except you didn’t even question (much) if I knew that you were a monster already so I'm starting to have my suspicions that you deliberately tried to show me beforehand and now I fear I might have catched something for you and also I like your non-human form quite a lot and maayyyyyyyyybe I'm reading into your actions a little, but just a little because I never let my heart be free but you are teaching me to do so and it’s both cute and scary and I really don’t feel like I can control myself around you and I probably like you in more than the friendship way, or at least a little. Well, more than a little really but who cares, you are hot and my brain likes to go places when you display your strength and power and in those places you are really fucking beautiful (and naked too but now I wish I knew more), your eyes, your skin, even your goddammit hair is so attractive it hurts me to know that I'm actually attracted to someone with such a bad haircut that is also somehow really hot honestly. Our dynamic of trust, flirting and brotherhood and whatever the fuck else is going on between us now is ruined because I can't never shut up as much as I wished I could, especially with you because I can't stop opening myself up with the man I love and now I'm scared we might have shifted into something we are both extremely uncomfortable in because we can't share that kind of relationship and fraternization is illegal and I hate to break it to you but most of the stuff we did already was quite out of regulations and I don't care about any law and regulation as long as I can keep being with you in any way because your presence always makes me feel alive and like my heart is beating again after digging myself out of my own grave and I selfishly wished my presence did the same to you because I feel like I could give my life to you if you ever asked for it and I'm so fucking ready to do anything for you I know it will look dumb but at least I would be happy if you werehappy and I would do literally everything for you because you showed me that you trusted me and now I feel in debt with you and I want to pay you back in every possible way.
Nah, he wasn't going to go through all of that. Not now.
«Mh… Aye, ah suppose tha’.»
When they got back to base they had to go to medical first, checking if they had any injuries and if they were still in good shape. Ghost wondered how Soap got checked, because apparently he healed really fast and no injury on mission would have lasted until he reached the medical wing. Somehow that helped him stay away from old memories that he used to fall back into every time he went to check his body. Johnny again and again helped him, even when he wasn't in the room, even when he was just in his thoughts.
Covering up the old memories and making new ones.
Then came mission debriefs. He reached the meeting room before anyone else and sat down, waiting for Soap and Price to enter and finish this as fast as possible. While he waited he slumped down on his seat, his body crushed by exhaustion only hours after it was supposed to actually feel it. His mind kept going back to that conversation over and over again. That grin hidden in Johnny's eyes, that almost joyful light that signaled that he liked his own idea. Ghost saw that kind of light in Johnny's eyes only on rare occasions. When they exploded something, when a mission had the odds in their favour, when he beat Gaz's time record and… When Simon complimented him for his work.
He sat up a little better and pushed the heels of his palms on his eyes, trying to rub them and stay awake, feeling his own body fighting against him. He kept his eyes low, trying to avoid thinking about Soap, but he failed miserably after a few seconds— when his mind rushed back to his bigger form, to the way his own body reacted to that and he didn’t even realize it. Before Ghost could unpack those memories and take some information from it the door opened with almost too much energy. Price entered with Soap right behind him, like he was lost in the corridors and Price had to pick him up like a puppy and guide him here.
When Soap looked in his direction first— rather than anywhere else in the room— Ghost lowered his eyes and straightened his sitting posture, but he also tried to look nonchalant. They didn’t do anything wrong on the mission, as Soap said, they just got lucky. He didn’t have time to look at Soap or try to understand the expression on his face as Price sat down with the papers at the end of the desk and some sheets to take notes on.
«Alright, let's start boys,» Price's voice was close to a rumble, stress and tiredness heavy in his voice.
They got through the debrief smoothly, but Simon could feel his own hands shaking as they approached the actual attack. He lowered his arms under the table and rested his hands on his thighs in an attempt to hide himself when they reached the part where they were pinned down by the enemy. He avoided Soap's eyes during that entire explanation and kept avoiding them as they went on.
He closed his hands in fists and tried not to show any reaction to Soap's lies and then, before he could feel his lungs breathing real air again, the meeting finished. They got up and headed back to their duties but with the freedom to take their first day back on base more easily, even just sleeping if they wanted.
Ghost felt stiff, like his body was telling him that he should do something about this, but he ignored it as much as possible.
He decided a shower could wait.
He tried to loosen up a bit at the shooting range, with his mission being mostly out of his specialization he didn't get a chance to make his blood cool the right way. He stayed prone, hidden in the grass, the heavy rifle in his arms, the sting of the recoil waking him up better than any drug, the bullets hitting the targets far away, an almost empty field. With every shot he hit his target, chest, head, guts, every shot counting. Lethal. That was what he was made for, just like Soap…
He shook his head and tried to stay focused on shooting the rest of the bullets into the targets. Not alone unfortunately.
Soap's image still burned bright in his memories, but all too vivid to disappear from his mind in his more demonic form. He missed a shot entirely by how much he was distracted by his own memories. He cursed under his breath and tried again. The more he thought about Soap the more he struggled with his shot. It became counterproductive fast since he was thinking about not thinking about Soap rather than shooting, so he abandoned the activity pretty fast.
When he got back to his room he closed the door behind himself and rested his head and back there for a few moments, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. He played with the straps on his tac-vest before opening them and taking it off. He bent down, unplaced and positioned right by the door his boots and looked at the bed, that now looked so comfortable he swore if he had been a weaker man he would have fallen asleep on top of it.
He peeled his clothes off of him, layer after layer until he was just in his briefs and mask and in front of the bathroom door. He threw his clothes in the laundry basket, removed his briefs and when he reached the mask he stopped. He raised a hand to the hem of it and played with a loose thread, before taking a deep breath and getting it off. He ignored the little square mirror and got in the shower, ignoring the way his mind raced towards Soap, his Johnny wet from a shower of his own, golden skin covered in small droplets of water, nipples slightly raised from the cold liquid, his breath fast, his hair falling on his forehead and framing his face even better. His pecs round and full, his belly soft and covered in hair from his happy trail, he thighs— that usually filled his jeans in such a sinful way— now on full display, thick and hairy, spread apart to show off the MacTavish family's pride. Ghost approached him, they shared soft kisses, he sat on Johnny's thighs and they started grinding against each other. Underneath him Soap changed, from his human form to his inhuman one. Ghost's imagination only managed to get bits done, Soap having been mostly dressed during the OP, but he managed, his mind rushing towards his climax. Ghost was hard, but he didn’t try to resolve in the shower. He would have never betrayed his coworker that way.
He got out of the shower, dried up, changed into much more comfortable clothes and wrote down the report for the mission from his notes, at least to help Price, as he usually did. He finished it pretty fast and decided to go get dinner from the mess hall and then go to Price's office to drop it off. He walked in the mess hall before most people, as per usual for him, being a dead man with a mask was no easy job for him. He took a tray, some buckwheat with abundant boiled carrots, chicken breast with oil, various fresh vegetables, a banana and went back to his room to eat. Keep avoiding Soap. He told himself. The less you interact with him now the better for the future. For your career. But his heart ached for their usual closeness, for his choked laughter when he told a horrible joke, for his presence by his side most of the time.
He felt tears sliding down his cheeks but he didn't give them attention, simply washing his face afterwards and going out of his room to complete his duty.
When he gave the report to Price the man looked more exhausted than Ghost felt after crying and simply read a few lines before abandoning it on the table and taking a long exhale before talking to Ghost.
«Lieutenant, why are you avoiding your sergeant after this mission?» He asked, his eyes searching for any change in his behaviour at the question.
Ghost shifted his weights from one side to another and let out a low hum. «I didn’t realize I was avoiding him, honestly.» Liar. He knew exactly why, and it was because every time he spotted that infamous mohawk in the corridor that day he got so close to confessing, letting heart out on a silver platter, that his chest physically hurt and his guts clenched in fear of rejection.
«Good, then fix it.» Price ordered him.
«Sure, sir.» The air was feeling cold now, both of them knowing that it would have been useless to try and fish the information out of Ghost in this way. He was unbreakable and as stubborn as a mule when it was about Soap.
«Good, dismissed.» Price got back at work, opening his drawer and fishing a fancy cigar box out, ignoring the way Ghost rolled his eyes at the almost stereotypical behaviour of his captain. Ghost lingered in the room for another few seconds, wondering if he should tell Price about what truly had happened on the mission. Price cut the end of a cigar and positioned it between his teeth, before fishing a lighter out of his pocket.
«Do you need anything else lieutenant?» Price asked, his voice low as he lit up the end of his cigar.
«No, sir.» Ghost didn’t waste his opportunity and walked out as rigid as a stick, now with his heart in his throat and a dubious desire to get to Soap's room just now and confess.
He forced himself to walk back towards his room due to the late hour, but he got stuck in the corridor of the sergeant's room. His feet had dragged him there while his consciousness didn't approve. He had forgotten for a moment that Soap's room was just not that far away from his and that he couldn’t even come up with an excuse for himself avoiding him any more. He looked around and made sure no one was around.
He walked up to Soap's door, the wood around his handle worn down and ruined by the amount of times Soap had tried to fit the key in either without looking or in the dark. He looked at the time on a clock on the wall to make sure he wasn't waking him up. 22:36 was late but not for Soap clearly. He knocked twice, and before he could lower his hand back to his side the door was open.
A soft voice greeted him, still thick with that Scottish accent Soap managed to bring life to and sound actually hot with it. «Ghost, what brings you here?» His eyes looked too bright to not know why he was there. Cocky bastard. Why couldn't he stop loving him?
Ghost hesitated, hating himself for being unable to respond to a simple fucking question. «I– We need to talk,» he wasn't going to be able to have this entire conversation here, too many ears and eyes that could potentially spy on them.
«Yeah, sur’, come inside.» Soap probably knew better than him that this delicate thing wasn't an argument for the public ears. He took a few steps back and opened the door further to let Ghost in.
Ghost walked in, with the same tremor that art students get when they enter an ancient church decorated with depictions of life and death that will haunt them for the rest of their life. A crushing experience that he feared would change him for the worst. A place he felt too small for, yet too big, like every barracks room ever. The room was standard— not inspection-ready but close— considering how strict Soap was with his own weapons and that it made sense to be the same with his weapons. A small desk under the window, paper and a few knives scattered over the surface, various journals on the small shelves on top of it along with some artbooks and small decor, and one journal popped open with a sketch of a wilting flower in it. A small closet by the side, closed and with just a hoodie lying on top. It was big— he noticed— probably something he wore in his inhuman form. No, stop right there, it's creepy. On the opposite side his bed and the door leading to a private bathroom. The light was off, the window closed so the cold wouldn’t get in, but there was also a faint smell of cigarette smoke and the smell of the body care Johnny used coming from the bathroom.
He felt… Unwanted in the comfortable space that Soap had been living in.
«What's the issue?» Soap asked after closing the door, standing with his arms crossed but somehow still looking quite open to Ghost.
You. Me. Us. Anything but what we have going on.
«Oh, it's not that bad,» he left on nothing that sentence.
«Look Ghost, I dinnae want to have tae be the one startin’ this but…» Soap let it be quite obvious that he thought Ghost was avoiding him out of fear or disgust. Yet he would never.
«It's not you, it's me. I'm a… It's not… It's complicated.» Ghost felt his heart starting to beat louder and louder, wishing he could control his emotions and lock them up in a lock case for now.
«Then explain it tae me, we have all the time ye want.» Soap replied sarcastically. Interpreting that wrong.
Ghost was so fucking done with his feelings. He couldn’t keep going in this way. He wanted to tell Soap everything, his heart served on a silver platter, he wanted to be vulnerable, he wanted to be seen by Soap. He raised a tentative hand to the collar of his hoodie, fingers lingering at the edge of the mask, keeping him solid but too stiff in front of Johnny. He catched the hem of his balaclava and with a singular fluid motion he got it off. He dropped it down and raised his hand again to fix his hair, before returning it to his side and awkwardly shoving it in a pocket. He kept his eyes low on the ground, avoiding Soap's stare, not even noticing how the man had frozen in place. «I'm not scared of you and I'm not disgusted by you. Honestly I'm not sure why I came here in the first place, but I don't hate you and I don't want you to hate me, I wish I could see you again like… That and please don't…» He blurted out without stopping, feeling his heart beat so fast in his ears that he didn’t even realize what Soap's answer was.
«Whit do ye mean, hate ye? I– Ye– Did you hit yer heid?» Soap came closer and Ghost wanted to take a step back, or to look up, but his feet were glued to the ground and his own head heavy on his shoulder. Soap took another step forward, looking up at Simon, his hands came up and almost touched him before Soap took a step back, realising just how close they were mere seconds earlier. «Sorry, ah…»
Ghost raised his eyes towards Soap, his flashy blue eyes piercing through his for an instant before he lowered his eyes again. Ghost felt the desire to kiss him, hitting him like a bullet. Fast, precise, lethal. «No, no, it's ok, I didn't…» feel uncomfortable because you only bring comfort to me.
That was an uneven fight against Soap, he realised, as he looked up and found his eyes staring back at him, ice blue meeting whiskey brown. Pretty blue inhuman eyes. A perfect match.
«Can… I know it's weird to ask,» Ghost started, hoping his bare face didn’t betray him already, «But your– The way you looked. I was probably not paying much attention to that on the OP but…» he came to a stop, incapable altogether to piece together more.
Soap looked at him with almost dreamy eyes, almost like a child who got what he desired for Christmas. «Ye liked it? I mean, ye’r not scared or mah real form?»
No, never.
Ghost shook his head.
He looked at Ghost with unsure eyes for a moment, searching for something Ghost couldn’t name. After a few seconds too many, where both of them hadn't moved, Soap lowered his gaze and looked at his hands and then started undressing, getting his hoodie off, removing his socks, struggling with his shirt. When he got to his pants he halted for a moment, looking up at Ghost with asking eyes.
«Go on.» Ghost said with a low voice, barely audible in the silence of the room. His head was punching his ribcage and he could hear his own heartbeat in his ears. This shouldn't have been hot, it was just to show him his true form and nothing more. «It's not a problem for me,»
«It's ugh… Not exactly that, mor’ like…» Soap was hesitant to explain what was bothering him. He simply slid his pants down to show him.
Oh fuckfuckfuck Soap doesn't have a normal dick. Ghost realised when he slipped out his pants and briefs at the same time. Instead of a normal human dick he had… Well, two dicks and they were textured. Ghost, control your-fucking-self. The dick on top was slightly shorter, even while soft and the one on the bottom slightly thicker at the base. Both were slightly red at the tips, not even hard, just how the skin changed tone in that place. Ghost felt his own mouth water, but when he realised he was staring he had to raise his eyes a little. He was now stuck at staring at Soap's well sculpted fat pecs.
«Aye, that's the only bit ah never put much effort intae, ugh, shifting.» Soap tried to explain, not covering himself up but seemingly a bit shy.
Ghost was holding himself back from fucking worshipping this man with anything he hand and going out of his way fight against his own body to get all of him in his now drooling mouth and he was fucking shy about it. Thanks universe.
After a few moments Soap nodded at him and started shifting, his body growing taller, surpassing Ghost by a good few centimetres and almost hitting the ceiling with new horns growing from his forehead, hugging his sides and framing his red mohawk. His teeth were much sharper now, canines almost twice as long and slightly curved, the tip of his tongue black, his skin hotter, his body hairier. Simon noticed a few new details other than the horns though. He had a long tail trailing behind him, gently touching the ground and moving from one side to the other. Both his hands and feet got darker as they reached the nails, the same way his tongue did, and his nails were dark and sharp. His muscles were bigger, almost tensing the skin and the fat on top of them. He felt a tug inside his chest, instincts begging him to kiss Soap. He was so fucking hot he could explode. He felt his cock twitching between his legs, his core wet and hot and his guts boiling.
«Ghost?» Soap asked, his nose twitching slightly. He leaned down towards Ghost, looked down towards his pants and then back up to his face half a second later. Ghost noticed that and felt his cheeks getting hotter. Could he smell Simon? His arousal and his secrets?
He dragged a hand up towards Soap's face, trying to stop himself from doing something he would end up regretting. He won't. He won't ever stop for Soap. They were stuck in an awkward position for a few seconds, connected only through the tips of his fingers and Soap's hot skin. He desired so much more than just this from Soap, he wanted all of him, human or not, but he wanted him. Anxiety pierced his insides, telling him that it was all a lot, forcing him to lean back for a moment. But Soap simply followed him, his eyes now bright with an unnatural light blue, were fixated on him, pupils swallowing his iris so fast it made Ghost's heart skip a beat. He leaned closer, their lips almost meeting, sharing their breath, but giving Soap the freedom to choose, their noses bumping into each other. If that could have been all he had gotten from Soap he would have eagerly accepted it, kept it in his memories forever, just this moment, when the time stopped and they were the closest they could be.
Soap closed the distance between them, closing his eyes and letting their lips meet. He was hot. His lips were soft and Ghost was burning underneath his lips, with love, with desire, with relief that Soap actually liked him. He pushed first, opening his lips and licking at Soap's. Soap parted his lips for him and their kiss deepened, exploring each other's mouth. Soap's teeth were sharp, almost enough to cut the tip of his tongue on them if he pressed too harshly on them, but he loved the light sting of pain and a droplet of blood got shared between their mouths, the smell of iron not overpowering but contrasting beautifully with Soap's scent of ashes, wind and death.
He dragged a hand up towards Soap's face, trying to stop himself from doing something he would end up regretting. He won't. He won't ever stop for Soap. He leaned closer, their lips almost meeting, sharing their breath, but giving Soap the freedom to choose. Soap then leaned closer, closing his eyes and letting their lips meet. He was hot. Ghost was burning underneath his lips, with love, with desire, with relief that Soap actually liked him. He pushed first, opening his lips and licking at Soap's. Soap parted his lips for him and their kiss deepened, exploring each other's mouth. Soap's teeth were sharp, almost enough to cut the tip of his tongue on them if he pressed too harshly on them, but he loved the light sting of pain as he indulged and a droplet of blood got shared between their mouths, the smell of iron not overpowering but contrasting beautifully with Soap's scent of ashes, wind and death.
They got carried away, their hands explored each other in intimate light touches. Soap mapped Ghost's face with his fingers, tracing lightly the shape of his cheeks and falling on the sides towards his jaw. When they finally parted to breathe he went higher, gently exploring his eyebrows, barely visible in the low light of the room, following the curve of his nose, to his cheeks and down his chin. He then raised his finger towards Ghost's mouth, pressing down on his bottom lip with his thumb and watching as Ghost didn’t complain and parted his lips lightly. He wanted to do so many things to Ghost now, he realised.
Ghost instead thought he was dreaming, with Soap kissing him and then exploring his face, showing him that he was alive, that he was Simon. Simon felt his cheeks getting darker as Johnny pressed his thumb to his bottom lip, parting them gently and teasing to do more. His other hand left his face and travelled down, dragging down from his throat to his clavicle, down between his pecs until he was grabbing at his hips.
With a single fluid movement Soap shifted them both to the side of the room and let Ghost lay down on the bed, keeping his hands on him all the time to guide him down with Soap on top of him.
«So ye do like me?» Soap teased, now a little breathless from their kiss, his emotions following behind his actions with a few seconds of dissonance.
Ghost looked at him, at their situation, at how close they were again with Soap on top of him, careful not to crush him. «Thought it was pretty obvious,» He teased back, letting his mouth fall open a little further to invite Soap to kiss him again, drunk on the pleasure that was Soap in his entirety.
Soap smiled at him, almost too sweet for this form, for the way all of his body was made to kill but not his eyes, fixated on Simon with adoration and emotions so sweet it was hard for him to bring them into words.
«Fuck, ah thought ah had ruined everything but ye’r pure amazing Simon, ye amaze me every day,» Soap whispered on top of him, lowering himself again to kiss Simon, this time with more passion behind it, almost an animal force guiding them both in the kiss they shared. Johnny’s tongue explored his lips, taking his time to lick his mouth and taste Simon on his tongue, fixated on the man’s darker eyes. Soap’s hand grabbed the collar of his hoodie, playing with the hem of it before exploring underneath it, grabbing his dog-tags chain and yanking at it to force Simon up. Soap growled,
Simon felt a hand travelling down his body, softly taking in all the details it could get through his clothes, Soap’s sharp nails getting caught on the button of his jeans. «Please…» He begged, feeling his dick throb between his legs, his body hot with desire and his breath short. He opened his legs further to let Soap settle between his legs, the demon’s naked body contrasting beautifully against Simon’s still clothed one, yet boiling even through his clothing.
Soap sat up, his two cocks both hard now and leaking precum steadily into the sheets, playing with the zipper of Simon’s jeans. «Just ask me Simon,» He licked a stripe over Simon’s pants, right over his cock, making the smaller man squeak in surprise. «Because I’m not starting this until you ask me with that beautiful voice of yours,» He let the words hang in the air, but his eyes seemed intrigued at the way Simon's body reacted as he wished.
«Please, please, please Johnny,» Simon panted, trying to raise his hips to get some friction against Soap’s tongue. «I’m begging you, please, fuck me,» Tears started breaking out of the containment of his lashes, travelling down his cheeks and making him look already fucked out. And that was just the teasing.
That seemed to set fire to Johnny’s soul, as he went teeth and nails against his zipper, trying to get it open and almost ripping the pants off of Simon. Ghost raised his hips and helped him get his pants and briefs off, showing his hole to Soap, his dick so hard it almost hurt between his legs. Then his hoodie came off, followed immediately by his shirt. Soap admired his body, gently following its curves with the tips of his fingers— careful not to hurt Simon— the scars of pain along his body, almost glowing in their paleness in the darkness of the room. The star-like shape of where the meat hook pierced him, his scars on his stomach where many combat knives had tried to open him up, the bullet scars on his arms, where he risked many times to die and lastly, almost as to save it last, the pseudo-autopsy scar that ran from his clavicles down his abdomen and stopping at his pubes. Soap bent down and followed the autopsy scar, kissing it from his lower stomach to his clavicles and holding in his teeth Simon’s dog tags, the metal shiny between his teeth, the same way Simon was now trapped under Soap. If he wanted he could have dragged them back out of his mouth and kissed him, or have pushed him away before the situation escalated into something he wouldn’t stop, but he let Johnny do as he pleased. The bigger man licked a stripe up his collar bone, almost at his throat, but he let his dog tags fall back on his chest and raised himself up a little to stare at his body, somehow undressing him all over again with his eyes and truly seeing Simon. Simon who had started shaking, maybe in fear or maybe in pleasure, wishing to have that wet tongue on his throat again, lethal teeth capable of killing him near one of his most vulnerable spots. Soap looked almost hypnotized at Ghost’s cunt before lowering himself on the bed and licking a stripe up with his long tongue from his ass to the tip of his dick, a moan being stolen out of him at the taste of Simon on his tongue. From there he didn't stop, he ate his cunt like a delicious meal, savoring everything, from the bottom to the top, exploring his hole with his tongue, teasing at the entrance but not yet breaking in. Soap became almost aggressive, putting more energy behind every stroke.
Underneath him Simon moaned, tension leaving his body and letting his head fall back while Soap ate him out, making him shiver and whine in pleasure so deep he didn't think it was possible. His body didn’t fight Soap's tongue, it invited him to explore further, opening his legs and hooking his ankles behind Johnny's head forcing him to stay there. Soap moaned deeply, the vibrations going from his throat to Simon's cock, almost making him orgasm, but not quite yet, the tears in his eyes spilled out again, this time from the deep pleasure. «Fuck, fuck, Soap slow down, please!»
Soap stopped there for a moment, looking up at Simon with big puppy eyes, as if he had been denied the possibility to play with his favorite toy. «Ye alright?» His hands stayed on Simon's thighs, keeping him spread open but with a softer touch now, almost teasing but not quite.
«Yes, yes fuck,» Simon panted out, finally able to think again, his brain less fogged up by pleasure now. He fell back on the pillow— Soap's pillow he realized after a few moments— and brought a hand to his face to cover himself up, too many emotions swirling in his guts about what just happened. «Fuck, Johnny…» he barely managed to get out between deep breaths to calm himself down «That was– Fuck, hot and– You– Ah fuck!» He didn’t even know what to say now that Johnny was looking at him with such sweet eyes.
Soap looked at him with a cocky grin, perfectly conscious of how he looked at that moment. «You taste amazing Simon, I could spend hours like this,» and he grinned at Simon's reaction.
Simon blushed heavily at that compliment, closing his thighs but accidentally crushing Johnny between them, only giving him a stronger desire to eat him out.
Johnny dipped low again, helping Simon open his thighs again and exploring his cunt with both his tongue and his fingers now. At the new taste of Simon's heavy dick on his tongue he moaned, going crazy over the man's growth. «Fuck Simon, your cock is amazing,» He manages to moan between kisses, licks and sucks, moaning in approval when the man beneath him started loosing words again, making him moan underneath his tongue. He carefully used two fingers to enter his cunt, all too careful to not scratch his velvety insides; he shifted his fingers so his nails grew shorter, more similar to his human form.
He started lazily scissoring the man between moans, taking his sweet time to explore his hole in depth and to scissor him open, watching out for any reaction that signaled pain. Simon came undone underneath him, his moans getting sluggish and his movement falling out of synchronization, his ankles hooked behind his head again, forcing him to work pressed much closer to his delicious core. Simon tensed underneath him, Johnny took his time to lick his cock better, using his bottom lip to raise the fat appendance and sucking on it, using his tongue to gently massage it. Simon came, cunt more wet than it was before, dripping with both saliva and slick and Simon's legs trapped him there with such strength that he can barely breathe anymore and honestly Johnny didn’t need to because all his blood was in his cocks from how turned on he is by Simon's strength.
Simon squeaked in pleasure, moans ripped out of him as Johnny became meaner with his cock, watching with adoring eyes the way Simon almost cried, conflicted between pain and pleasure, under his tongue. When too many tears started spilling he slowed down, holding Simon's thighs, trying to ask him to let him breathe. Simon gave his head a second to raise before he was opening his legs and freeing him, letting Johnny sit up. Johnny cleaned his lips with his tongue, savouring the fluids of Simon's sweet cunt, looking down at him but feeling hooked down by his beauty. He hadn't gotten his fingers out of Simon yet, but he slowed down inside Simon, letting him process all the adrenaline and pleasure in his body.
«Ah could go on forever sweetheart,» Johnny said, hooking his tail at one of Simon's legs «Do you want to?» He gently caresses the inside of Simon's thigh, where there is a red mark where his horn was being crushed by his thighs. Fucking marked for him now.
Simon takes a few long breaths, his lips shaking. «Fuck me already,» he manages to get out. Soap flexes his fingers inside his cunt. «Please Johnny, I'm begging you– fuck me!» And his last syllable is half screamed in pleasure when Soap goes deeper inside him.
«Fuck, ye look bonnie, if ah had ken ah would have found an excuse to fuck ye earlier,» Johnny roared out, lowering himself to kiss Simon's body, starting at his pubes and slowly— with torturiously slow movements— kissed all of Simon's torso, exploring the soft planes on his belly, solid underneath a good layer of fat, his pecs, where his top-surgery scars hid underneath well sculpted muscle and his nipples took a delicious pink colour. He kissed one with a simple peck and he could feel Simon shiver and his cunt tightening around his fingers. «Should have fucked ye at that hill, waiting fir exfill,» he kissed his pecs, licking them and giving special treatment to his nipples.
Simon took his head in his hands, grabbing him from his horns and forcing his head up. His rich brown irises were completely swallowed by his pupils, fixated on him with so many emotions spilling out of them he struggled to identify them all. «You will be the death of me if you keep talking like that,» His lips were red and raw from their kissing, his cheeks pink with pleasure and more.
Johnny raised his hand to travel up Simon's body, letting them rest below his pecs and caressing his scars with his thumbs. «But Ah should've,» He teased Simon, kissing up his clavicle, his neck, his chin until they could finally kiss again, letting Simon taste himself on Johnny's lips. When they pulled apart his cocks were twitching with desire, his balls tight with pleasure already. He let his fingers slip out of Simon's tight hole and spread his lips apart, Simon spreading his legs further to let him work with his fingers. He pinched his cock between his knuckles and watched as he jumped lightly off of the mattress out of pleasure. Johnny grinned, a surge of pleasure going through him like lightning, seeing Simon being pleasured by so little. He guided himself up to the entrance of Simon's cunt, teasing with the head of his cock at the entrance.
«Ah, please Johnny,» Simon begged underneath him, trying to get more of his cock inside.
Soap felt his own body shivering at such sweet words, with Simon's deep voice and his body so desperate for more of him, for more of Johnny. «If ye ask so nicely,» He grabbed at Simon with both hands, teasing as his hands explored down from his pecs down to his upper thighs and up again to his hips, teasing the entire way with the tip of his cock pressing to Simon's entrance. He let it slip up, out of his hole, to frot against Simon’s. He instead guided his second cock, with a wider base to Simon's entrance.
He lowered his hips and pushed inside, his cock enveloped by Simon's hot soft hole, feeling like velvet against his cock and filled so well by his cock he had to force himself to not cum within the first few thrusts. He lowered his own hips and raised Simon's, fucking him deeper while his other cock slipped along his now stretched tight folds and stimulating his t-dick. It was heaven on earth, to have such a cute thing taking him so well and moaning so perfectly. His thrusts fastened, keeping a slowly growing pace up.
«Simon,» He managed to moan out, overwhelmed by pleasure. «Ah fuck! You're amazing,» He felt his hips stutter. «Please, Simon, ye feel so good!» He didn’t know what he was asking for, he just wanted Simon more and more, his mind was filled with Simon, all other thoughts were like cotton in his skull except Simon, as clear as day in his mind and in his bed.
He couldn’t fuck him anymore, he started chasing his own pleasure, going faster and almost aggressive, feeling so close to his peak he was already panting hard. He fucked into Simon as best as he could, and when his orgasm was close he slowed down, edging himself a little, letting his cock out almost entirely, keeping only the tip inside.
Simon's legs came around his hips and forced him deep inside again. «Fuck Johnny, don't, don't, give it to me please!»
Simon whined, as beautiful as a painting if not sounding like the perfect melody in Johnny's ears. Johnny kept fucking him, searching again for that pleasure inside of Simon and coming barely a few seconds later. While his cock was still hard he fucked his own spent inside of Simon, deeper, a side of his brain— an animalistic one— wanted it to catch so badly it gave him te energy to fuck into Simon harder and harder, even if it didn’t catch. Simon's moans were a melody in his ears he would remember forever in that moment, both of them almost crying from pleasure and satisfaction. He felt Simon's cunt clenching around his cock and he kept his cock inside, pushed in up to the base, to act as a knot while he softened slowly.
Simon— his muse, his lieutenant, his mate, his everything— was panting underneath him, cheeks marked with gentle tears sliding down and his eyes distant, windows to his soul, in a haze of pleasure. None of them said anything for a while— they didn’t need to, honestly— and Johnny just rested on top of Simon, his cheek resting on Simon's shoulder, their breaths slowing down and trying to synchronise.
After a few minutes Simon spoke. «Johnny…» His voice was ruined and raw, that matched his deep voice so well it made Johnny hard all over again.
After a few moments of Simon not adding anything, Johnny raised his head from his resting place and raised himself on his elbows, hovering over Simon. «Yeah, Simon?» He asked, unable to hide his worry in his tone. «Am I crushing you?» He tried to recover, but it probably wasn't just that he was heavier in his demon form.
Simon's arms came down to his shoulders and guided him back to his original position. «Not at all, love.» Simon whispered in his ear, caressing his cheek with the back of his fingers, surprisingly soft fingers for a soldier. The nickname made something spark in Simon's heart, realising too late that he didn’t say the most important thing he wanted to tell Johnny for a long time now.
Johnny underneath him didn’t look at him any different, if anything he relaxed even more on his shoulder, melting in pleasure and satisfaction at his words. «Love, huh?» Soap chuckled, whispering too now, closing his eyes and hugging Simon's torso with an arm. «Ah am pleased tae be,»
Soap's voice is so low it vibrates through Simon as well, like a wild animal— a predator— eyeing his prey with far too much love for his own good.
Simon blushes, managing to bring a hand to his mouth to clean himself as an excuse to not show his face to Soap. He searches for his mask with his eyes and finds that it's on the ground, half covered by his hoodie that landed over it. He didn’t feel the weird repulsion that usually came without his mask, more like a light squeeze in his ribs to cover up now that he was completely naked. He didn’t act on it though, too focused on Soap's words and the hot body on top of his. Johnny was unbelievably hot in his demon form, almost as if he had a fever, but he looks perfectly fine. He's pleased to be called love he realised after a few too long seconds between them. He doesn't feel like searching for the words to express what he thinks of Johnny, what Johnny is for him, for his life. He simply brings a hand from behind Johnny’s head and used it to guide him closer to Simon. He left a kiss on Johnny's forehead, long and soft, and then let him get settled back to rest on his shoulder.
Johnny was smiling, he opened his eyes, still unnaturally blue, but his pupils had swallowed most of the colour into a night black portal to his soul. He is beautiful he conceptualised in his mind, captured by Soap's love on his face.
And it returned again, that feeling— aggressive, strong and choking, him this time— telling him to confess. Telling him that a simple love can never be enough, that he needs to know if what they have can last. «Soap?» He asked, feeling a knot tied in his throat. Fucks sake, he can't even talk. He doesn't wait for an answer, if he fell asleep he would still have loved him in a way that made his heart ache. «I love you,» He manages to get out. Three words.
Soap, still pressed to him, only squeezed his body tighter to show him that he was listening. Then Johnny decides to give him a bit of a heart attack. «Thought it was obvious when you let me fuck you like that.» He smiled, still not opening his eyes, too pleased in this position to do so, but moving his hips to remind him of the knot tying them together. They stayed like that for a few more minutes, just resting and cuddling.
Simon felt the knot stretching his cunt soften a little and when Soap managed to pull his cock out he mourned the loss.
«Next time I should ride you» He said, watching Johnny's reaction as the other man blushed so deeply that the colour reached his shoulder and chest before he tried to hide his face between Simon's pecs.
«Fucking warn me ye eejit, I'm hard again!»