Archive of Our Own

The shadow of a breath in the air is the only evidence of life nearby. Ghost inhales the fresh, cold air, exhaling as quietly as he can manage. He's posted on the roof of a nearby building, watching from a distance as one of his sergeants works on gathering information.

Soap is here, next to him, running his fingers over the curves of the sniper rifle he holds firmly in his hands. He can't sit still, turning the weapon back and forth, tapping his feet to the rhythm of a song Ghost doesn't recognize. His gaze isn't as steady on the interaction across the street, but he does his best to stay focused on it.

"What do you think they're doing?" Soap asks after a moment.

Ghost watches more intently for a minute, "Hard to tell from here, Sergeant,"

Soap places his gun down onto the ledge, leaning forward to watch through his scope. He tries to make out their lips, but he's still too far.

"Settle down," Ghost can feel how the man is growing restless. 

The sergeant huffs, dropping his weapon to his lap once again. "An intel negotiation shouldn't take this long," he tips his head back to the sky.

"They've got it under control," Ghost's eyes flicker to where a few more men are stationed on the ground outside of the building. They're waiting, ready for Ghost's command.

Soap remains quiet, and he fidgets more with whatever he can reach, shoelaces, pant seams, his earpiece.

The men continue talking, but Ghost observes a new tension that blankets the air surrounding them. He rises a bit, looks through his scope in the same way Soap had moments before. 

"What is it?"

Ghost shakes his head, "Looks tense, is all," 

Soap joins him, "Should we tell the others to head in?"

Ghost watches them converse a bit more, "Not yet," he says decisively. 

The team had done this more times than Ghost can even begin to remember. Missions like these seem like second nature to him, as easy as breathing. He isn't worried, but he's cautious. 

Still, Ghost finds himself more on edge this time than he normally is. He presses his fingers to his headset, "Be ready to enter on my command. Tensions are high, be alert," he warns.

Soap isn't helping Ghost's nerves, he can feel the way his body tenses as he watches the scene alongside Ghost. He tries to ignore Soap, but he's failed at doing that for too long now.

Ghost readjusts his grip on the gun, pressing his eye further against his scope. He doesn't miss the way their targets eyebrows furrow, or the questioning look he sends out one of the windows. Before he knows it, the man's arm is around his sergeant, tugging him further into the building and out of his line of sight.

"I'm gonna call it," he says to Soap, before once again turning on his comms, "Head in quietly through the backdoor. We want to be as peaceful as possible here,"

He sees his men approach the building quietly, careful as they step within the room. 

"Do we have to just stand here and watch?" Soap is frustrated, and Ghost knows that he wants nothing more than to be down there, too.

Ghost tries his best to get a visual on the scene, "Someone needs to keep watch on them, too," 

"Why couldn't you just do that?" Soap mumbles. 

Ghost doesn't respond for a minute, "Well, who would keep an eye out for me?" He barely finishes his sentence when a round of gunfire echoes between the buildings. He remains steady, still looking, waiting to see any of what's taking place. 

Soap immediately heads to the fire escape they had climbed before, "I'm gonna go help them,"

"MacTavish, you need to stay up here," 

More gunfire, and Soaps face hardens with determination.

"Sergeant," Ghost warns. Soap is already descending down, and Ghost moves quickly to reach him. He grabs his vest, turning the boy to face him. "You need to stay up here,"

Soaps expression doesn't falter, if anything he looks more focused, "Ghost," is all he says.

"Stay with me," Ghost asks, because he doesn't need Soap to barge in without a plan or even a proper weapon, he needs him to just listen.

This seems to stop Soap for a minute, and Soaps eyes lock onto Ghosts, seemingly searching for something Ghost doesn't know about. He must find it, though, because his eyes soften a bit around the edges, and he stops pulling away from Ghost's grasp. "Okay," a pause, "always," he assures, quick and light.

Ghost nods once, still looking at Soap. He can't seem to look away.

"Lieutenant?" Ghost is snapped back to reality, turning quickly to get back to his position.

"Here," He says, "What's happening?"

"They turned hostile, and we had to fight before things got too out of hand. The guys dead, we got his paperwork," 

Ghosts lips twitch to form a bit of a smile against his mask, "good work Sergeant," he nods once in Soaps direction, "let's get out of here,"

-

Ghost is exhausted. His eyes feel heavy and puffy, and his muscles ache with every step he takes. It was a heavy training day, and he worked for hours with some new trainees at their base. 

Price had decided that it would be nice if the team connected with more of the other soldiers, but Ghost thinks that Laswell probably had more to do with it. Something about unity, he guesses.

Still, his steps feel heavier with every one he takes, and his head is slumped down on his shoulders. He felt stuffy, like his mask was adding on extra force to his body. 

He needs to eat, before he could head back to his room, so his body takes slow, dragging steps to the direction of the kitchens. He pulls open the door, and hesitates entering when he hears the loud, boisterous voices of the other guys in the room. He holds his eyes closed, and is about to turn around completely when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

"Come sit with us, L.t," it was Soap, and Ghost felt a bit relieved at that.

He looked at his Sergeant, eyes bright, and found that he couldn't really say no, despite how much his body was screaming at him to. "Alright," he mumbled, and followed along slowly to where he saw Gaz and a few others sitting at one of the long tables in the corner.

He really should go to his room. He can feel the energy draining from him, and he doesn't know how long he will be able to put up with all of the noise. Still, he nods as a hello to the table, and turns to grab a tray of food.

He returns in silence, practically falling on the seat beside Soap.

Ghost tries his best to keep up with the continuous back and forth at the table, he really does. He catches a bit of the story Gaz had been relaying, something about his recent mission with Price, but Ghost couldn't really focus enough to register the responses of people at the table. He eats, lifting up his mask, shoveling what he thinks is some kind of pasta into his mouth. He replaces the fabric after every bite.

Soap bumps his shoulder, "Doing alright, Ghost?" he asks.

Ghost nods, glancing quickly to his Sergeant's face to see a hint of a smile on his lips. Ghost smiles too, though it feels pointless. Soap's only grows, though, so Ghost assumes he caught something in his eyes.

Soap turns back to the others, and Ghost has to remind himself to look away again, back to his tray. 

Suddenly, there's a pat on his shoulder, and Ghost barely has enough time to acknowledge someone's leaving before they're gone. He nods still, in their general direction, and when he looks back he sees only Soap remains.

"How's yours?" he asks, pointing to Ghost's bowl.

"Fine," he mumbles.

Soap hums, looking from his own empty tray to Ghost's still full one. "It's better than usual tonight," 

Ghost nods, and lifts his mask to take another bite.

Soap is silent, and his hands are fidgeting with each other on the table. He taps them in a pattern on the table, and pulls them closer to his face to inspect his nails. 

Finally, after a few more minutes, "Are you sure you're okay? Is something bothering you?" Soap asks.

Ghost takes another bite, pausing a minute to chew. "M'Fine, Soap," he sees the continued movement of Soap's hands, "really," he assures.

"Okay," Soap waits a beat, "did you hear what happened to Price and Gaz?"

Ghost tries to remember, he really does, but he really didn't pay attention to the earlier story, "Um," he clears his throat, "wasn't really paying attention,"

"Oh," Soap isn't disappointed, really, but Ghost feels like he is still.

"It was crazy. Wish I could have been there to see it," 

Ghost smiles weakly, and hopes that Soap knows it's there.

Ghost knows Soap does, as he gives a small smile back. Ghost watches as he delves into another story, something about the shooting range, he thinks. He's only aware that he zoned out when Soap's voice cuts through the silence in his head, "-ost, Ghost?"

"Sorry," Ghost looks up to meet his eyes, "just tired,"

Soap smiles, "Price had you training today right?"

Ghost just nods again, and twirls his fork between his fingers in the bowl. 

"Um, sorry," Ghost doesn't know why Soap's apologizing, but before he knows it the sergeant is standing, "I'll stop bothering you,"

Ghosts eyebrows twist in confusion, "What?"

"I'll just let you eat in peace, L.t, it's fine," Soap's smile isn't meeting his eyes. 

Ghost reaches out to grab Soaps forearm, "Sit," he instructs, and tries his best to look sincere, "stay with me," 

Soap sits, keeping his expression locked on Ghosts. "Always," 

Ghost makes an effort to ignore the way his cheeks heat up, "I like the company, Soap," he adds. Maybe it's a bit too genuine, too honest, but Ghost means it.

"You're nice when you're tired, Lieutenant," Soap wears a grin.

"I'm always nice to you," Ghost deadpans.

Soap laughs, light and airy, "I suppose so,"

Ghost finishes his meal quietly, and does his best to listen as Soap rambles about his day. Soap walks Ghost back to his private room before bidding him goodbye with a quick pat on the arm.

Ghost falls asleep as soon as his back hits the mattress.

-

Ghost's ears are filled with noise, a ringing that distracts him from thinking properly. He's panicking, he knows he is, but he can't worry about himself right now. 

No, not when Soap is slumped against his side in the backseat of their exfil vehicle. 

He's bleeding, a stab wound from a person Soap had thought was a civilian.

He was undercover, waiting in a small bar off the coast, hoping to catch evidence of smuggling at the establishment.

Unfortunately for him, the man sitting next to him happened to be in charge of the whole goddamn thing. 

Ghost was never really frightened over injuries like this, he knows, logically, that the knife had missed the important things, and he knows Soap will be fine. He knows that.

But that doesnt stop the way his hands shake as he holds Soaps shoulders, or the way his eyes dart anxiously out the window to make sure they get out safely.

Soap groans at a particularly hard bump, and the ringing in Ghost's ears gets louder at the sound. "Almost there, Johnny," Ghost assures him.

Their safe house is posted more inland, an inconspicuous home with a few acres of land. It's rural, which is good, and Ghost can feel the relief when he sees the gaps between houses getting larger.

"That son of a bitch," Soap slurs. His head tips back onto Ghost's arm.

Ghost's hand reaches to Soaps, making sure the sergeant is keeping good pressure on the wound. He can feel the blood on his fingers, which makes his head spin even more. "Gotcha good, huh?"

Soap hums, the noise turning a bit into a groan as the vehicle turns the corner. 

His head falls to the side, facing Ghost. Ghost can see the way his skin is pale, eyes screwed shut in pain. "Keep your eyes open, MacTavish," 

Soap manages a chuckle, "fuck off,"

Ghost almost smiles, but Soap's head is falling forward and his body threatens to follow. His hand flies up to push him back, and the heaviness in Soap's body sends a rush of panic through Ghost. "Hey, Johnny, look," he urges.

Soap tries to lift his head, but can't.

"We're here, Soap, okay?" Ghost is moving, helping the medical team that rushes to the vehicle lift Soap up and inside, "Johnny," he waits.

Soap grumbles, wincing harshly as he's placed on one of the beds. His head lays back, and he opens an eye weakly to look at Ghost.

"Hey," Ghost is beside him in an instant, kneeling next to the bed with a hand on Soap's shoulder, "you gotta stay with me okay?"

Soap grins, and he looks a bit delirious, "Always, Lieutenant," 

Ghost smiles, dropping his head down to the bed. He can feel his nerves easing a bit, though the panic is still there. "You need to stop scaring me, Sergeant,"

Soap grunts, the medic begins to numb him, "We're back to sergeant now?"

Ghost lifts his head to see Soap smiling, taunting. "I thought you were dying," he defends.

"I like when you call me Johnny," Soap closes his eyes again, feeling the movement of the medics hands as they begin to stitch him up.

Ghost doesn't know what to say, really. He thinks that his brain is too messy to say anything rational, though, so he keeps his mouth shut.

Soap continues, "Only you can call me that, though." 

Ghost hears the ringing all over again, "Whatever you say, Johnny," his head spins.

Soap's smile is worth the dizziness, Ghost thinks.

-

Price is lecturing them again, which happens too often for Ghost's liking.

"You guys acted stupid. Stupider than usual, which I didn't think was possible," He sat at his desk, authoritative, yet not intimidating to Ghost.

Not to Soap, though, who looks more terrified every time Price even seems angry at him, even though everyone knows Price could never really be that mad.

"It wasn't that bad," Ghost argues. It wasn't, they all still got out fine.

"You ignored my direct orders," Price countered.

"MacTavish ignored your direct orders," Ghost points out.

Price did tell Soap to move, to go make his own spot on the opposite side of the building from Ghost in case any fugitives ran that direction. But Soap didn't, apparently he couldn't leave Ghost by himself.

He knew Ghost would be fine, but he had a sinking feeling in his gut that something bad was going to happen. So, he turned off his headset, and positioned himself next to Ghost.

Sure enough, dozens of men came suddenly around the corner, sending rounds to where he and Ghost were positioned. Ghost could have probably handled it himself, but it could have gone bad very quickly. He didn't want to be the reason for something happening to Ghost.

"Why do you think he ignored them?" Price's voice was accusatory.

Ghost rolled his eyes, about to speak before Soap interrupted him, "You we're gonna leave Ghost by himself, Captain," 

Ghost watches as their eyes meet, a sort of silent exchange taking place. The bit of fear from Soap is gone now, and his back straightens slightly. Ghost can't figure out what any of it means, and Soap's eyes are so dark he honestly feels a bit threatened himself.

"You still need to do what you're told, MacTavish," Price looks between the two of them, "and you," he turns to Ghost, "you need to enforce what I say too, you're his Lieutenant,"

Ghost knows that's true, too, he did allow Soap to stay despite hearing Price's orders. But, if Ghost's anything, its stubborn, "What would've happened if I did that, Captain,"

Price takes a deep breath, like he's trying to stop himself from yelling. "I'm glad you two were right, but that doesn't mean you're excused. You both will clean the kitchens for two weeks," he orders.

Ghost huffs, annoyed and frustrated. "Can we be dismissed now, Captain?" 

"Fine, go," he stands to walk them towards the door, "get some sleep, guys," 

The two walk in the direction of their rooms, taking steps down the narrow hallway between buildings.

Ghost knows Price is just doing his job, too, and it's really not the Captain he should be upset with. 

"Why did you do that, Soap?" His voice is rough, accusatory.

Soap doesn't seem to want to talk, "Already told you," he spits out.

"What, because I was going to be alone?" Ghost questions.

"I had this awful feeling, okay?" Soap is frustrated now, too.

"You ignored orders because of a feeling?" 

Soap's gaze remained forward, "Saved your ass, still," 

"That's bullshit and you know it Sergeant," they're walking fast now, angry steps following each other. Ghost really didn't want to argue, but he can't help it. "I didn't need your protecting,"

Soap stops walking suddenly, turning to face Ghost, "What would have happened if something went wrong? Huh?" 

Ghost knows he's right, he knows that. "I don't know why you needed to stay with me, you never did shit like this before," he says anyway.

Soap purses his lips, and he looks one breath away from snapping at the man in front of him. He steadies his breathing, and focuses his eyes right into Ghosts. "I don't understand how to make it much more obvious that I'll always stay with you,"

And he's turning, fast and angry and hurt, and Ghost is standing in the hallway dumbfounded, confused and overwhelmed and he wants more than anything to follow, but he doesn't.

Soap's words don't make sense, if he really wanted to always stay with him during these things, he wouldn't have tried to leave on the roof.

Ghost tries to rationalize the sergeant's words, but his mind becomes more jumbled the more he thinks about it.

He stumbles his way back to his room, and makes sure to lock his door as soon as it shuts behind him. He sits on his bed, removing his mask and setting it neatly on the bedside table. He runs his hands roughly over his eyes, sliding them down his cheeks. 

He tries to make sense of the tension between Soap and Price, why the air felt like it was more than just getting in trouble. Soap was threatening him back, which Ghost had never seen before.

Why couldn't he just follow orders? No. Why couldn't Ghost bring himself to enforce them?

He knows it's because of Soap. Because for some reason he can't say no to the man. Or maybe Ghost had wanted him there too.

He shakes his head, his hands. Stands up to rid himself of whatever he was thinking. He gets changed, quietly, before falling into bed. The mission was long, there wasn't much time to rest, but Ghost doesn't think he'll get much sleep, anyways.

-

Mandatory leave is something Ghost actually dreads. For his team it means going away for a week, spending time with family, going home. Which isn't exactly applicable to him. Instead, he spends a week walking through the empty halls of the barracks, and he feels like what his name implies.

When Price announces they will take a sort of "bye-week" Ghost is the only one who doesn't let out a cheer.

He likes the job, really. He doesn't really know what he would do besides this, where he would go. He doesnt think he'd be able to work anywhere else, especially not something like a restaurant or something.

This is all Ghost has, all he's had for a long time, and a week alone with his own mind is not something he needs right now. Not with the presence of Soap sitting constant in the back of his thoughts. Not with the way his heart beats too fast whenever he tries to face it.

"We can get you a temporary house in Manchester or something," Price suggests.

It would be the same there. Plus, Ghost would get more odd looks than he does here if he went out in the middle of the city. "Is there really nothing here I can do?"

Price smiles, smug, "You could clean the kitchens again," his grin is too knowing, and Ghost hates it.

"Fuck off," he turns and starts leaving his office.

"Just a suggestion!" Price calls from behind him.

It's not like he and Soap hadn't talked, after it all. They both had apologized somewhat, and they were back to how they usually were. If there was a layer of something else laid beneath Soaps jokes or Ghost's replies, which there wasn't, Ghost made a point to ignore it. He pretends like Soap's words didn't make his entire world flip upside-down, and that he doesnt think about the way Soap said it every day.

He smiles at Soap, still. Taunts him like he always does. And he definitely doesn't lose any sleep over it all.

As Ghost walks back toward the rec room, he hears the end of Soap's conversation with Gaz. He doesn't catch much, just that Soap's parents must be on holiday or something because Soap is getting a temporary house for his leave. 

Ghost's heart hurts a bit at the idea of Soap spending his time alone, but he knows he wasn't even supposed to hear this, so he continues walking before he can hear more.

Soap finds him, sitting on one of the beat up couches sitting in the corner of the room. "Can I join you, L.t?"

"Of course," he replies a bit too quickly.

They're silent for a moment, watching the soldiers around them. There's a TV posted in the corner, and there's a pool table and some other things scattered across the room.

"What are you doing for leave?" Ghost's voice shocks himself, but he holds his gaze steady in Soap's direction.

"Ah," he shifts where he's sitting, "Got myself a house somewhere quiet. Plan on just sleeping," he laughs, but Ghost can tell he's upset.

"What about your parents?" Ghost asks.

Soap's eyes look over Ghost's face, "They're on a trip to the States. It just wouldn't work out, me seeing them,"

Ghost doesnt know really what to say, comforting people is not his strong suit, and he doesn't even know if Soap would want that, anyway. Still, he puts his hand onto Soap's knee, "Sorry, Johnny,"

Soap closes his eyes, and when he opens them again they're focused on Ghost's hand. "It's okay, it's a break either way right?"

Ghost doesn't say anything about how he's dreading the break, or how much he always does. He doesn't understand it, doesn't feel the same as Soap does, but Ghost knows he would feel disappointed either way. "It'll be good," he gives Soap's knee a final squeeze before pulling his hand back to his own lap.

Two days later, Ghost is saying goodbye to the team. He gives Price a pat on his arm, and pointedly avoids his concerned expression. To Gaz, he gives him a smile and a shove, to which Gaz just laughs and flips him off over his shoulder.

And then it's Soap. Who looks more sad now than he did before. 

"You alright?" he asks. He knows Soap isn't.

Soap finds his eyes easily, "I will be," he still has his determination, even off the field.

"A break will be good," Ghost tries to ease Soaps mind a bit.

"I just don't want to be alone," Soap whispers. He shakes his head, and bends down to grab his suitcase. 

He gives Ghost a sad smile, and begins to turn around. Ghost is stiff, hating that Soap feels the way Ghost has so many times before. It's horrible, loneliness, and Ghost's heart aches knowing that Soap will be by himself.

"Keep out of trouble here, alright Ghost?" Soap calls over his shoulder.

Ghost watches as Soap takes steps out the door, towards the car that waits to take him to the airport. His body is moving before he fully decides to, and he catches Soap by his shoulder, "Wait," it comes out fast.

"You okay, Ghost?" Soaps eyes are concerned, glancing over his body to make sure he's fine.

"Stay here," His face heats, "You should stay with me," he breathes.

Soaps eyebrows raise, confused but not mean, "Ghost?"

"Im serious, Johnny," 

Soap shakes his head a bit, "I'm not gonna intrude on your break, this is time for you, too," 

Ghost's hand doesn't leave his shoulder, just tightens its grasp, "I want you to stay with me," he means every word.

"Okay," his eyes are darting rapidly over Ghosts, looking, searching, analyzing. "Always, you know," he adds, and Ghost thinks he might be trying to kill him on purpose now.

He keeps his hand pressing lightly on his shoulder as he leads Soap back inside, and the sergeant says a quick goodbye as he goes to tell someone- Price, maybe Laswell- that he's staying.

Ghost is stuck frozen in the hallway.

-

Ghost wakes up 3 days later to rustling, and a quick shout. 

He's out of bed instantly, running down the short hallway to where Soap is sleeping. 

Their break has been peaceful so far, during the days they make food, go on runs around the buildings, and even spar a bit in the training center. 

It's good. It feels right, domestic even, and Ghost is definitely not growing more and more restless the closer he feels to Soap. 

Ghost reaches Soap's door quickly, and he hears more shuffling from within, "Soap?" He tries.

There's no response, so he taps his knuckles softly on the wood. 

Nothing, so Ghost speaks a bit louder, "Johnny?" 

The door swings open a minute later, and Ghost has to physically restrain himself from reaching out to the man in front of him. Soaps eyes are tired, red and puffy, and his hair- which has grown out considerably- is messy, strewn across his head haphazardly. He looks almost surprised to see Ghost here, and Ghost almost forgets that he didn't even bother throwing his mask on when he came down here.

Not that it bothers him. It's not bad with Soap. He's seen Ghost's face before, a handful of times now. And Ghost trusts him, maybe too much.

"Ghost?" Soap prompts, "Why are you here?"

"I just heard a noise or something," his eyes glanced back to the room behind Soap. It's empty, which makes him all the more concerned, "You okay?"

Soap smiles, "Just had a nightmare, sorry for waking you, L.t," he looks nervous.

"Im a light sleeper anyways, Johnny," Ghost assures, "You sure you're alright?"

"Yes," Soap hesitates for a minute, swaying back and forth on his feet, "I think not seeing my family made my mind wonder,"

Ghost understands. He knows the feeling, watching something happen that you just barely can't reach, or trying to yell only for no sound to come out, or running as fast as you can but somehow never being fast enough. Then waking up, panting, dizzy, confused. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" Ghost asks. He supposes it might help, maybe.

Soap shakes his head, "Don't wanna think about it anymore," 

"Okay," Ghost rocks back and forth a bit, "well um, I'll just go. Hope you get some sleep, Johnny,"

Ghost doesn't move, though, "Simon?" Soap asks, and the sound of his name sends chills through the tips of his fingers down to his toes. Soap continues, "will you uh, will you stay here? With me?" 

Soap is evidently nervous, and Ghost's head feels like it's full of water. His mouth can't form words, so he nods his head, and follows along as Soap walks back to his bed.

It's small, definitely not built for the two of them together, but Ghost is laying back and Soap is crawling next to his torso, planting himself next to Ghost's heart, where he had long ago made a home for himself in. Ghost stomach turns, his arms shakily circling Soaps frame until he's holding him, pressing his body against his.

Ghost's mouth is dry, but he needs Soap to know. He mutters out a scared, "Always, Johnny," and closes his eyes before he can really face the weight of it all. He isn't sure if Soap will get it, but he hopes he does.

Soap does, of course he does, because he always knows when it comes to Ghost. 

Soap's body turns, and his hand falls to Ghost's chest. Ghost can feel him looking, his face glows with the familiar warmth Soaps eyes hold. "Simon," his voice is soft, tender. 

Ghost presses his eyes closed even tighter. He feels Soap's hand reach up, tracing delicately along the scar on his jaw. His fingers brush over the indented skin, and Ghost finds his whole body shivering at the touch.

"You okay?" Soap asks, careful, and Ghost feels his face grow even more red under Soap's attention.

He manages a nod, despite it all, and Soap just continues to keep his fingers over Ghost's face. 

"Is this okay?" Soap's touch turns a bit more firm. 

It's more than okay, it's too okay. Ghost feels the touch through his whole body, through his head down his spine. He hopes that Soap can't hear the pounding of his heart, or the way his breathing has gone ragged. He's too afraid to look. "Yes," he whispers.

"I'm going to kiss you now," Soaps hand molds to the side of Ghost's jaw, holding his face lightly in his palm. "So if you don't want that to happen, tell me to stop,"

Ghost's eyes shoot open, and he looks over Soap's face intently. Soap looks back earnestly, a fond smile on his lips, and Ghost doesn't think he could ever say no to him.

Soaps pressing his lips against his a moment later, and Ghost can't help but bring his hands up, one twisting in the base of his hair and the other grabbing desperately at the back of his neck. He thinks he might even let out a noise, but he's too overwhelmed to even notice.

A good overwhelmed, a very good overwhelmed as Soap works his mouth over Ghost's own. Soaps' own hand moves from Ghost's jaw to his hair too, and he takes his time running his hand through Ghost's curls. He uses his other hand to move, sitting up and laying himself atop of Ghost's body.

Soap nips at his bottom lip, tugs it back to open Ghost's mouth. Their tongues meet, rushed and passionate and messy, and Ghost can't stop the groan that escapes his throat. 

Ghost wants. He tugs firmly on Soap's hair, and chases the man's lips as he breaks the kiss with a gasp, "Simon," Soap breathes out, leaning to press one more small kiss to Ghost's mouth. 

"Johnny," Ghost's voice surprises himself, its breathy and light and too honest.

"Was that okay?" Soap questions again.

"Johnny," Ghost lifts his head to press a kiss to the corner of Soaps mouth, "More than okay," 

Soap's eyes crinkle at the sides, grins wide and bright, and runs his hand through Ghost's hair again. He laughs, breathless, "You're beautiful," 

Ghost throws his head back, eyes twisting shut, "Johnny," 

"You are," Soap kisses his cheek, right across a mark that lays there, "so beautiful,"

Ghost sighs, and pours all of his effort into opening his eyes. He's met with the same expression from earlier, and Ghost is overwhelmed by how genuine Soap looks. "I um," he stops, "Johnny," his voice is desperate, Soap's name is the only thing he can say.

"I love you so much," Soap fills in for him, and leans down to litter kisses across Ghost's face. His eyebrows, cheeks, the tip of his nose. He kisses the corners of his mouth, and presses down gently in the middle of his lips. 

Ghost smiles, wide and dripping with love, "I love you too," 

They kiss again, slower, like they're taking their time to figure it all out. 

Soap stops, looks one more time over Ghost's face before laying down, putting his head sideways over Ghost's chest. "You're heart's going crazy," he whispers.

"It's your fault," Ghost mutters, a smile present in the sound.

"Does that make you mine now?" Soap asks, voice bright.

Ghost presses his lips to the top of Soaps head, "I think I always have been," 

"And you'll stay, right?" Soap traces patterns on Ghost's shoulder, "no matter what happens?"

"Of course. Forever, I think," Ghost promises.

"I love you, Simon," 

"I love you too. Always,"