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John breathed a sigh of relief when he reached the gate. Traffic to Glasgow airport had been a nightmare. Thankfully he thought to wear a beanie hiding his distinctive haircut. Normally he loved meeting fans in most places. Approaching someone while they were using a urinal will never be appropriate.
Ever.
John leaned to the side to see the front of the line. Looked like someone couldn’t find their boarding pass. It happened just about every time he flew. He shrugged it off and pulled out his phone to check his emails. John becomes aware of someone approaching behind him which was soon followed by a deep voice with a distinct Manchester accent.
“Fucking Hell.”
John smirked. Clearly someone wasn’t looking forward to the flight. The woman at the front finally found her boarding pass, so hopefully the rest of the line could start boarding. The airline staff member turned and waved at someone behind John.
“Alright Sir, we can skip to the front of the line.”
“I can walk.’
The deep voice grumbled. John glanced behind him to see the speaker; the glance turned into a stare. The man behind him had been transported to the gate in a wheelchair. One foot was currently in a boot and his left arm was in a sling. Just sitting, John could see he was built like a brick shithouse and then he stood.
Oh, he was tall, perfectly tall. Enough to make John feel small. John could be smothered by this man’s pecs and die a happy man.
John’s gaze made its way up the man’s body toward his face. A strong jaw was covered by a black medical mask. John notices scars poking up over the edges of the mask, another scar bisected an eyebrow and continued under his eye. There was also a notch missing from one ear. Blonde hair was cut military shot but it showed signs of growing back. Whiskey brown eyes met John’s and arched a brow.
“Mother didn’t teach you staring was rude?”
John smirked and gave the man a blatant up and down look.
“She certainly tried.”
The man rolled his eyes, grabbed his duffle, and slowly hobbled his way to the front of the line. Johns gazed zeroed in on the man’s ass. Steamin Jesus it was perfect. So firm and grabbable, a perfect handful. John sighed, the odds of getting this man’s name and number were slim now that he was moving away. John wanted, oh how he wanted that man.
As the man made his way up to the front a woman with a pinched face started to complain that she had been waiting for hours. The deadly glare she received cut her complaints short, causing poorly smother snickers from the rest of the passengers. John kept his eyes on the man as he handed the attendant his boarding pass and entered the tunnel. As he admired the tall, beautiful form he spotted a familiar Military logo on his duffel, SAS. John knew that logo from when his cousin Duncan served. That explained the injuries.
Before putting his phone into airplane mode, John sent a quick text to his driver, Gary, to give an estimated time of arrival at the airport. It wasn’t a terribly long flight, but John didn’t want to accidentally surprise him. John made his way down the tunnel to the plane and braced himself for the flight. He didn’t mind flying but being in a limited space with a bunch of people made it inevitable that he would be recognized as one of the most wildly popular goal tenders playing. The forced proximity on
being trapped in an airplane made fan interactions awkward since they couldn’t get away from each other. His mood lifted when he saw who his seating partner was.
“Well fancy meeting you here.
The man arched an eyebrow as he looked John up and down.
“Not the worse person I suppose.”
“Yeah, I could have been the woman you scared the shit out of.”
John fired back cheekily. This earned him a huff of laughter. John maneuvered himself into his window seat (Score!), careful not to jostle his new best friend. Once seated he extended his hand.
“John.’
The man blinked at him before slowly accepting the handshake.
“Simon, call me Ghost.”
Ghost tilted his head as if considering something. John raised a brow.
“My captain, well former captain is also a John. Odd that I would meet another one so soon.
John grinned at Ghost.
“Well, I’m obviously the better of the two.”
Ghost eyed him, considering.
“Hmmm, you’re certainly the better looking since you lack his mutton chops. Although there is the Scottish factor so it’s hard to say.”
“Oi haud yer wheesht!”
Ghost blinked.
“What that English?”
John rolled his eyes and gave a gentle punch to Ghost’s arm causing the man to chuckle quietly. John opened his mouth to respond but snapped it shut when he noticed a young woman approaching them. Judging by the look on her face, she recognized him. He cringed internally, although not effectively if Ghost raising a brow at him before turning to face the woman as she came to a stop.
“Um Hi, I was wondering if I could switch seats with you?”
Ghost didn’t bat an eye.
“No Fuck off.”
John felt his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline in shock at Ghost’s blunt refusal. He was glad for it but that was rude as hell. The woman sputtered but before she could form a response Ghost gave a frustrated wave to his booted foot and arm in a sling. Her eyes widened, and she blushed with embarrassment. She quickly mumbled an apology and darted back to her original seat. John bit his lip to keep from laughing while the flight attendants began the safety brief. Ghost glared at the back of the woman’s head before turning toward John.
“Should I know who you are?”
John felt a tension melt out of him; a tension he didn’t know he was carrying. Ghost genuinely didn’t know who he was. John could just be John without worrying that Ghost was using him for fame. He couldn’t stop the wide grin from forming if he tried.
“Only if you’re a fan of the Renegades Football Club. Besides we’re solving each other’s problems.”
“What’s my Problem?”
John thumped his head on the head rest of his seat.
“The Mask. Take it off.”
Ghost grunted and shook his head.
“Show my face? Negative”
“Are you ugly?”
“Quite the opposite.”
John snorted a laugh. Banter with Ghost was refreshing.
“So, you didn’t answer my question, you a football fan?”
Ghost shook his head.
“Not at All, though my teammates are. Well former teammates.”
The sigh that followed that statement seemed to come from deep in Ghost’s soul.
“Just get discharged then Ghostie?”
Ghost blinked.
“I was. Hurt my rotator cuff and some nerve damage to my hand. The foot will be fine once it heals but the other tends to have lasting effects. How did you…”
Ghost trailed off, a furrow forming between his brows. John had a sudden urge to smooth those lines away with his thumb.
“I recognized the logo on your bag, my cousins served.”
Understanding down on Ghost’s face. Well, the parts that John could see anyway. A thought struck.
“Hey, you said your captain’s name was John, right? We should send him a selfie letting him know you found an upgrade!”
Ghost laughed but shifted to awkwardly pull out his phone. It took a few moments of shuffling to get the best angle before taking the picture. Ghost tapped a message into his phone before putting it away again.
“There, He’ll get it once it’s out of airplane mode.”
John grinned at Ghost.
“Can’t wait for the reaction.”
Ghost snorted at the mental image. The plane had finally taken off and they were on their way to London. John and Ghost spent the flight talking about John helping his ma when she needed a hip replacement, Ghost’s worries about being a civilian and everything in between. Truly one of the best flights John has ever been on. They arrived in London in what felt like minutes and not the hour and a half it was. John’s stomach dropped when one of the attendants approached Ghost.
“Sir, with regards to your injuries we are letting you disembark first. Would you like me to grab your bag for you?”
Ghost nodded and thanked the woman before slowly standing. He glanced back at John.
“Guess I’ll see you on the other side.”
Ghost sounded almost bashful that John was helpless to not smile at him. God John needed to find a way to keep this man.
“I’ll see you out there.”
Ghost nodded and slowly made his way off the plane. No one reacted to him going first though it was probably due to the shear size of the man. John did not have as easy exit as Ghost did, everyone going for the overhead bins at the same time. John’s heart fluttered when he spotted Ghost waiting by the gate, true to his word. Neither man had a bag to pick up at baggage claim, so they made their way to Heathrow’s pick-up area. John quickly checked his phone to see if he had missed anything while in the air. His driver, Gary, was running a bit late due to an accident.
“So Ghostie, got anyone picking you up?”
Ghost frowned but nodded.
“My brother said he would since my mum is on a cruise with friends of hers. I just haven’t spoken directly with him in years.”
He stopped, lost in thought. John simply waited for him to collect himself.
“Last time we spoke was at the beginning of my career when I came home to drag him to rehab. He was furious and screamed that he hoped I never came back. I figured as long as he was alive to hate me it would be ok.”
John’s heart hurt for Ghost and reached out to give his hand a squeeze. Ghost startled and came to a stop. He looked down at their connected hands in a surprised silence. John started to speak, what he was going say he didn’t know but he closed his mouth when he noticed a man who bore a strong resemblance to Ghost.
This new man looked nervous standing there. He was holding a sign with cartoon skull and crossbones drawn over the name ‘Simon’. John smiled seeing it. Perhaps there was hope for the brothers.
“What’s your brother’s name?”
“Tom.. His name is Tom.”
John smiled softly at Ghost.
“Well, I may not know what happened years ago, but I think based on the fact that Tom’s here, he wants his brother back.”
Ghost tilted his head in question and John gestured toward the main doors. Ghost looked over and spotted his brother with his sign. Tension melted out of his shoulders. It was as if John saw Ghost become Simon. Both men fidgeted for a bit before john blurted out.
“Can I get your number?”
Simon’s brows rose in surprise as he stared at John. Smooth as chunky peanut butter that was John thought but forged ahead.
“I mean if you want too of course. I enjoyed talking to you and would like to keep getting to know you. I could also give you a place to crash if it doesn’t work out with your brother… but only if you’re ok with it.”
John trailed off feeling awkward. Why was this hard? John never had a problem charming anyone. Apparently, there was something about tall soldiers that made his brain stall out. He looked down at his feet in embarrassment. He heard a soft chuckle before an unlocked phone filled his vision. His hand darted out to grab the phone before Simon could change his mind. Dopey smile on his face he punched in his number.
Simon took his phone, eyes crinkled with a smile as he tapped away at the screen. John felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Pulling it out he sees that Simon sent him a message that was just a skull emoji. John laughed as he replied with a bar of soap.
Both men smiled at each other.
“I guess I should let you go now. Don’t forget to tell me how your captain reacts to the selfie.”
Simon huffed a laugh.
“I won’t.”
He paused before looking John in eye.
“I’m glad to have met you, John. You made me feel like an actual person and not a scary legend.”
John blushed.
“The feeling is mutual Simon. I hope we can be friends.”
Simon nodded in agreement. He took a deep breath before looking back at his brother, who had noticed them and was waving his arm in the air. Simon sent him a wave to acknowledge he saw him before turning back to John.
“I’ll talk to you soon Johnny.”
“I look forward to it Si.”
Simon picked up his duffle and slowly made his way to his brother. John smiled as he watched the brothers embrace. His phone buzzed again. Reading the message told him his ride had made it to the airport. He gave Simon one last look before making his way out to the car.
Bonus:
Captain Price exited the helo with Sergeant Garrick on his heels. Garrick was still grumbling about the loss of Ghost. Price sighed.
“Gaz enough. Riley served his time and deserves to have a life outside of the army.”
Gaz huffed.
“I’m aware Captain. It just feels weird without him here.”
Gaz collided with Price when the man stopped dead in his tracks, staring at his phone screen. Gaz moved to the side and gave him a shake.
“Sir? Is everything alright?”
Price couldn’t believe what he was looking at. He looked up at Gaz with wide eyes and a slack jaw. Gaz’s concern for the captain grew. Price handed him his phone.
“Look at this. Am I having a stroke? I feel like I’m having a stroke.”
Gaz frowned as he took the phone. His confusion quickly turned to shock. The phone in his head showed a selfie of Ghost with none other than John ‘Soap’ MacTavish of the London Renegades. Beneath the photo was a comment.
‘Met a nice man on the plane, his name is John too, felt like you never left.’
Gaz looked up from the phone to Price and back before making a sound of shock that a mix of a shriek and a gasp. A few soldiers on the tarmac jumped but gave the pair a wide berth. Price leaned over a placed his hands on his knees, as if trying to catch his breath.
“Oh My God!”
“Out of all the people Ghost is who just happens to be the one to meet Soap MacTavish!”
Price straightened back up and grabbed his phone back from Gaz. He started walking again as he angrily typed a message. A shocked Gaz was rooted in place for several long moments before Price yelled back at him.
“I’m kicking his ass the next time I see him!”