Work Text:
The mission was standard enough. There was a warehouse that housed papers with information the higher ups needed. Ghost wasn’t going to question too deeply, not when Price asked for him specifically. He was given his orders, take Soap and a few of the newer recruits, get the information, get out.
Ghost set himself up with his sniper on a building not too far from the warehouse. It was high up, dingy, moldy, clearly abandoned. There was an odor in the air that was unpleasant, but he had dealt with worse. “In position,” Ghost says, aiming his sniper toward the small group of soldiers, finger off the trigger.
“Understood, LT,” Soap acknowledges before addressing the rest of the men. “Group Alpha, you’re on southside. Bravo, you’re with me, we’re taking north side. There are reports of men in the warehouse. We get in, take care of them silently if possible, and get the information. Comms open, but keep quiet. Go.”
There’s something effortlessly beautiful in the way Soap has blossomed. He was always a little insubordinate, a little too familiar, but in leadership he flourishes. His camaraderie with the recruits has them listening to him intently. It’s almost mesmerizing.
This acknowledgement, too, is standard. As is pushing the thought deep into the recesses of his mind once the mission itself starts. They begin clearing the compound, Ghost keeping an ever watchful eye on them. Soap occasionally checks in, easy banter on a private line between them. So far, it’s been normal. If he feels a slight awareness of his dick, well, that’s also normal. Standard. The adrenaline, the power of life itself in his hands, Soap whispering in his ears. It’s something a lot of the men deal with, if you pay close enough attention you notice it. No one talks about how frequent hookups are after the less deadly missions, just a whisper in the night. A gasp, a hand, if you’re lucky a mouth.
Ghost doesn’t participate in them, but he’s one of the most observant people in the taskforce, so he knows regardless.
He knows Soap doesn’t participate in them either.
He doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad one. Either way he pushes it back into the recesses of his mind. Overtime, however, the affliction… grows. Beyond what is normal. He notices himself breathing just a little heavier, responses more clipped. He’s getting uncomfortable, keeping himself still through sheer force of will. He needs to focus . There are the lives of men on the line, competent though they may be. Soap’s life is on the line, he needs to focus .
Soap is talking more, filling in the silence. The mission is going well, they’ve cleared out most of the base at this point. Just trying to find the information they’re here for. Ghost still needs to pay attention, but Soap is a little more energetic. He lets some of his emotions bleed into Ghost’s silence and it’s making everything more difficult for Ghost.
Finally, he shifts to relieve some of the pressure he has to bite back a moan. From there, his hips start moving of their own accord, grinding into unforgiving floor beneath him in small, aborted movements. He bites a lip, stifling any noises as best he can.
Something must get through, however, since Soap’s voice turns concerned. “Alright, LT?” Soap’s voice is low, quiet, concerned , and Ghost makes a snap decision and hopes he doesn’t regret it.
“Fine, Sergeant,” he says, scoping the area. It’s clear, and that just cements the decision in his mind. He clicks off his comms and shoves himself up. He sets his gun to the side and shoves a hand in his pants, letting out a long low groan at the feeling.
He’s quick with it, rough, the gloves almost painful but he doesn’t care. He just needs to finish this up as rapidly as possible so he can get back to the mission, focus on keeping his subordinates safe. It’s overwhelming, the feelings. He’s not usually this sensitive, it usually takes him longer to get going, but for some reason he’s already shaking, biting his lip on moans and whimpers alike. He thumbs his slit, can’t help the way he lets out a gasp. “Johnny,” he whispers, eyes squeezed shut, imagining it’s Soap driving him this crazy and not his own hand.
“Lt?” he hears, directly in his ear. It makes Ghost snap his eyes open. “Lt? How copy?” Soap sounds a little more concerned now, and Ghost brings a gloved hand to his mouth and bites it. His hand moves faster, he must have switched to the private channel, not actually turned it off. The thought that Soap can hear him now makes his heart thunder in his chest, embarrassment and pleasure commingling. It makes his head spin. “Simon?” Ghost has to choke back a scream, spilling over his hand, ruining his glove. He sucks in a few lungful's of air, trying to center himself.
“I’m alright, Sergeant. Just thought I saw something, it’s taken care of now.” His voice sounds deeper to his own ears, rougher. The lie is obvious, but Soap is kind enough to go with it. For now. He still asks questions, checking in.
He tries to get back to it, barely scraping through the mission. It seems once wasn’t enough, his hips grinding against unforgiving ground against his own will. Soap asks him what’s wrong, but he just continues to brush it off, telling Soap to focus on the mission. It takes him more effort than Ghost is willing to admit for him to do the same.
Something is wrong, he knows, something is making his head spin, his dick leak. He’s here for a reason, though, so he grits his teeth and bares it.
The rest of the mission goes by at a snail's pace. As soon as Ghost is able to make an escape to his room he does, skipping the debrief and leaving it up to Soap.
He wiggles his way out of his trousers, discarding them on the floor. One hand goes straight to his dick, the sound of Johnny saying his name repeating in his ear along with words he knows Soap wouldn't say but god he wishes he would.
Ghost has barely started touching himself when he cums again, the thought of Johnny calling him a good boy in his mind. He's sensitive but he can't stop grinding into his gloves, doesn't have the time to stop and take them off.
He feels so empty and frustrated, he knows he needs more. After a moment of struggle, he manages to get one glove off and he uses his own cum as lube, too impatient to reach into the drawer beside him.
He's spent enough time around Soap to know his finger's are longer than Johnny's but his own are thicker. He wants to know how deep Johnny could go. Wants to know how long he would draw it out. Would he make Ghost beg? Could he make him cry?
God he wants to cry in his own frustration, knows his own hands aren't enough but he has to try.
He lets out a breathy whine, a pained moan as he finds his prostate, angling his fingers to hit it as often as he can. He can feel himself tightening around his own fingers and still it's not enough.
Ghost doesn't hear the footsteps approaching his door. He's too deep in his own desire, in his own fantasy.
Ghost doesn't hear him at first, but he hears it when Soap closes the door behind him as he steps in. Making eye contact with him as his finger's brush against his prostate, he finds himself climaxing again and choking on Johnny's name.
"I don't know what's happening to me," he gasps out when he finds his breath. "I can't stop, please" he whines, "please make it stop, god I need-"
"Shhh it's okay sir, I got you."
Soap hovers over Ghost at first, just taking in the sight below him. "Hands up," he orders and Ghost follows without complaint. His hands tremble with the effort to comply, his hole feeling empty and his dick springing up, begging for someone to touch it.
"Clothes off." Once more, Ghost obeys with nothing more than a whimper in complaint.
"That's a good boy, sir, you're doing so well." Ghost feels himself go faint, head spinning at the praise. His chest heaves, breathing ragged, and he feels faint but so good at the same time.
"Oh baby, look at you, so needy," and Ghost can do nothing but nod, gasping as he feels Soap's hands trail down his sides and inside his thighs
"Oh look at you, you're a mess. Couldn't wait long enough to do things properly?" Soap's tone is on just this side of condescending and Ghost feels his face burn in shame.
"Sorry" he gasps out. He doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for, just knows the shame is pushing his lust up higher, mingling with the desire and causing his heart rate to jump.
"Oh sweetheart, why don't we slow down a bit hm? You haven't earned it yet." Ghost keens as
Soap trails his hands back up Ghost's torso to his nipples and gently tweaks them. Ghost is so beautifully responsive underneath him, twitching minutely and breath hitching with every flick.
Soap is gentle with him, lowering his mouth down and gently licking a nipple. Ghost bucks up and Soap immediately sits back up with a quick “ behave” and Ghost whimpers. It takes effort, but he manages to force his hips back down.
Soap takes his time, teasing and leaving butterfly kisses in his wake. It's hard, god it's the hardest thing he's done it feels like, but Ghost stays still. His hips twitch, he can't help it, but he does his best to stay still.
Soap drifts his mouth and hands up, right to the edge of Ghost's mask, asking a wordless question. Ghost tugs the mask up to just under his nose, not enough to blind himself, but enough for Soap to see the red staining Ghost's face
"There's a good boy," he whispers, lips playing at the edge of Ghost's jaw. "You're bein’ so good for me, darlin, tell me, do you deserve a reward?"
"Yes sir" Ghost breathes. "Please, I've been good I'm being good please sir, please. "
Soap just chuckles. "No need to beg yet, baby, I'll get you there soon." He trails his mouth down to Ghost's neck, leaving a trail of saccharine sweet kisses in his wake.
When he reaches Ghost's throat he's so very careful, kissing and licking and driving Ghost mad. It's harder now, being still, he's so sensitive and it's taking a toll but he's a good boy, he is, he is, he can listen. He can take orders, he can . And then he feels Soaps lips form a smirk right before he bites down on the junction between his shoulder and neck.
He lets out a choked scream, hips moving up of their own accord desperately seeking friction from the man above him. He needs something, anything, but Soap moves back and something in Ghost breaks as he lets out a sob.
"Now Ghost, did I tell you you were allowed to move?" Ghost can only shake his head, body shivering from the void that Soap left when he moved.
"I'm sorry sir, I am."
"Are you really? A good boy could have stayed still, and yet you couldn't. Makes me wonder," Soap trails off, hands lightly tracing down Ghost’s sides.
Ghost lets out another whimper, shame coiling in his gut and making his dick twitch. He wants so much but Soap is making his head spin and he can't do anything to make it stop. "Very well," Soap says. "Prove it. You will cum when I tell you, understood?"
Ghost nods, momentarily speechless. "I asked a question L.T. I expect an answer. Understood ?"
"Yes, yes sir, I understand sir, I do" he gasps out. Soap smiles.
"There's my good boy," he purrs. His hands trail back up Ghost's body. He grabs Ghost’s jaw, forcing him to look at Soap. Soap is just smiling at him, a flush on his face. He looks so beautiful it makes Ghost’s heart ache .
Ghost watches as Soap lowers his head, mouthing down his torso. He stops when he reaches Ghost’s inner thigh and looks up at Ghost through his lashes.
It's a beautiful sight, enough to make him dizzy, but he resolutely stays still. "Very good, I knew you could do it." The praise is a reward, one that makes him almost whimper.
Soap doesn't touch him at first. not directly. He drops kisses to his navel, gently bites Ghost's inner thigh. It makes Ghost whimper but he keeps Soaps' praise in mind and forces himself to stay still. He can listen and he will prove it. Even as Soap flicks his head with his tongue he stays still. Even when Soaps tongue licks up the shaft and circles the tip he stays still. He can behave. He's a good boy, he's Soap’s good boy.
When Soap takes Ghost fully into his mouth he hums around it, inordinately pleased. Ghost had thought about this for a while, what Soap would do to him. He can't take Ghost all the way, not immediately, and the sight of it has Ghost feeling overwhelmed.
It's enough to have him clutching at his sheets, feet planted to keep himself fucking into that mouth. he wants to, so, so badly. It feels heavenly, the first bit of reprieve he's had since he set himself up in that sniper nest all those hours ago. He feels a sob all but tear out of his throat, already on the edge of orgasm from just this and he knows he can't last but he also knows he has to.
Ghost shudders on an inhale, telling himself not to cum even as Soap slowly rocks his head forward. He tells himself not to move as Soap pops off of his dick and he can see the trail of spit connecting them still. He tells himself to hold on even as Soap’s cheeks hollow out around him, eyes half lidded and pupils blown so wide his eyes look black.
He feels his tenuous control snap, however, when Soap manages to take him all the way to the hilt and moans around his dick. With a shout he breaks, feels his orgasm rip out of him so violently he blacks out for a moment, riding on a wave of pleasure and shame and fever bright delirium.
"Simon," Ghost hears as he starts to return to himself. "What were your orders?"
Ghost freezes in place, snapping out of his hazy pleasure. "Not to cum until you said to, sir," he whispers.
"And what did you do?"
"Disobeyed. Sir," he chokes out. Soap just hums dark eyes staring into Ghost’s. It’squiet for a moment, and Ghost feels his heart beating in his throat. "I'm sorry sir," he whispers. "I know how to be good, I do, I swear." Soap is just silent, and despite himself Ghost feels desire pooling into his gut again.
"I don't think you do, Simon" Soap whispers, "I think you've been very bad, Simon, I'm almost disappointed." Soap pulls back, hovering over him. "Stay here, don't move. If I find out you've moved even just a muscle I will be very disappointed. Understood?"
"Yes sir." Soap nods before getting up and heading to the door. Ghost feels himself shaking, almost afraid. "I'll be back. I swear, just be good for me, yeah L.T."
The reminder of his rank pulls him out of his lust enough that he knows what's being asked of him. Knows this is Soap checking on him, making sure it's okay if he leaves to do whatever it is he's going to do, and he breathes before nodding. Soap nods back and leaves, and for a moment Ghost is able to lay down and catch his breath. tTe only sounds in the room are his small twitches against his sheets and the heartbeat in his ears.
It feels like an eternity before Soap returns. Ghost in some ways appreciates the reprieve, a little tired and needing a moment to process, but at the same time he despises it. His body is still ready to go, and the cold air against his hypersensitive skin makes it hard not to reach down and try and relieve the growing pressure once more. How many times , he wonders and still it's not enough . The desperation is starting to wane though, enough that he knows he can be good. knows he can still his hands and wait.
When Soap returns, he slides into the room and just takes in the sight before him once more. "There he is," Soap calls out, voice resonating in the quiet room. "There's my good lass." Ghost whimpers, eyes squeezed shut as a shudder rocks through him. "I was wondering if you could behave and you did. I'm so proud of you baby, look at you. You're gorgeous, listening to me so well. I'm so proud of you sweetheart." The affection rocks its way through Ghost’s body, making him feel sticky and warm.
"Still, you didn't listen earlier and that means punishment. I didn't want it to come to this but you've forced my hand. If you keep doing well and make me proud, though, I'll give you whatever you want, okay baby? Can you do that for me?" Ghost manages a nod, falling back into the hazy headspace he was in before.
"Now Ghost, we're gonna try somethin yeah? If you don't like it, I need you to tell me red yeah? And if you need to slow down, say yellow, okay? Can you do that?"
"Yes sir, I can."
"What do you say if you don't like something?"
"Red."
"Very good, and what do you say if you need to slow down?"
"Yellow, sir."
"Good girl." Ghost shudders again, the endearment hitting something he didn't even know about himself. Soap watched him, smirking to himself. "Thought you might like that one baby. Now, this here is a cock ring, do you know how this works?"
"Yes sir," Ghost said, hazy eyes trained on the toy.
"Very good, I'm going to put this on, and you're not going to complain. And then I'm going to do whatever I want to you."
Soap lowers himself once more over Ghost, cockring in hand. He sets his strap down on the bed slightly out of the way, and reaches for the lube. Gently, he spreads a little bit on his hand and the ring, trying to warm it up a bit. Ghost still hisses as Soap strokes up his cock, the cold a sharp contrast to his skin.
"I know baby, I know," Soap soothes. "Just stay still for me." He gently strokes up and down, and Ghost fights the urge to fuck up into his hand. Still he behaves, stilling his twitching hips. Soap smiles. "Very good baby girl. I'm so proud."
The cock ring slides onto Ghost's dick. It’s a little restricting but not quite uncomfortable. Just tight enough to make his head spin, but not enough to make him feel pained.
"Now here's what's going to happen. You're going to put your hands on the headboard and keep them there while I fuck you on my tongue."
Ghost gasped and nodded his head rapidly. His hands were shaking as he unclenched them from his sheets and moved them to his headboard. He shifted a bit, moving his arms to get comfortable before nodding to let Soap he could continue.
Soap didn't hesitate leaving a kiss on the head of Ghost's dick before hiking Ghost's knees over his shoulders and gently licking right at his hole.
Immediately, Ghost clenched around his tongue just lightly, as he was taken by surprise before Soap pushed deeper. His hole was loose from his earlier activity and it was easy for Soap to glide his tongue in. Ghost held firm to the headboard, fingers making the wood groan as Soap fucked his tongue in and out of him, setting a brutal pace.
He starts as he feels a finger circle his entrance before it, too, joined Soap’s tongue into fucking him senseless. Ghost was right, Soap’s fingers were longer and as a second joined he found it hard to keep control.
"Oh god-" he chokes out. "Feels so good, god please need more, need you. Want you so bad, need you to-" he chokes again, this time on a scream as Soap finds his prostate and keeps hitting it over and over. "Sir, please it feels so good, I need to- need-"
As soon as Ghost feels himself start to ride the edge of release, Soap takes his fingers out, tongue circling Ghost's hole as it also leaves. Ghost whimpers.
Ghost struggles, hips twitching like they were going to move but not. "Very good girl, look at you. You stopped, I'm so very proud." Soap’s voice is a little condescending but the praise is like a prayer. It sends electric shocks up his spine, turning his tongue heavy and his brain empty. He smiled placidly up at Soap, eyes leaking.
"See, sir," he says, voice raw. "I'm a good girl, I can be good."
"Now don't get ahead of yourself Simon, we've barely started"
Soap got up on his knees, quickly discarding his clothes. Ghost looks up at him and knows that he would never see a more beautiful sight. The heavens could open with a chorus of angels and he would only have eyes for Johnny. For the scars on his chest and arms. For the muscles that strained underneath his skin. For the sweat that dripped down his neck that Simon desperately wanted to taste.
The rapture had already come and gone because Simon knew that this was paradise. That here in this moment, dick straining and heart pounding in his chest, this was his heaven and he never wanted to leave.
Johnny entered him and Simon felt his brain shatter. He gripped the headboard so hard that he felt it creak. He wouldn't be surprised if he dented it with the force of his grip as Johnny slowly eased into him. Even prepped as he had been, it was still a stretch that made him feel delirious, eyes squeezed shut against the onslaught of pleasure-pain. As Johnny bottomed out, Simon's eyes flew open feeling Johnny's hand resting gently on his throat.
Johnny was poised above him, face red and sweat dripping down his jaw. His eyebrow was raised as his hand gave an experimental squeeze on the sides of his neck. "Good? Need to use a color?" he asked, tone surprisingly gentle.
"I’m good," he inhaled, “Keep going.” Suddenly he was struggling to breathe as Johnny's grip tightened.
It wasn't enough to fully cut off air flow, not even enough to really hurt. Just enough to make it a bit more of a struggle. To send his mind reeling and imagination running wild as he thought of bruises lingering for everyone else to see.
For a moment there was silence, just a moment for Simon to float. Then Johnny loosened his grip, pulled out, and slammed back into him as he tightened his grip again.
Johnny slammed into him again and again and Simon struggled to breathe, didn't want to breathe. Just wanted Johnny to use him. To fuck him into nothing. Simon's purpose, he knew, was to be here, at Johnny's mercy. Simon was shaped and created to belong to Johnny. There was a piece carved from his heart and reshaped and twisted to fit here, in this moment. He was a being that knew his place and his place was here as a piece of Johnny. A planet trapped in orbit and not having the strength, not needing , to escape.
He felt Johnny's hand loosen enough for Simon to breathe properly and Simon ached. He knew he needed to breathe, on some level, but a bigger part of him didn't care. Whatever it took to reach that perfect clarity, that perfect understanding of who he was and who he was meant for. He didn't need air when he had Johnny thrusting into him, Johnny's hand on his throat, Johnny's breath mingling with his, Johnny Johnny Johnny
But as Johnny leaned down he found he couldn't breathe for different reasons. "God, baby, you look so beautiful right now. You're so tight, so perfect. Look at you taking my cock. When I'm done I'm going to ride your face. I'm going to make you cum so many times you can do nothing but sit there and stare at me. You're going to forget everything except me. You belong to me ," he growled and Simon was helpless to do anything but gasp and nod his head frantically.
"Please," Simon gasped. "please, please, please. "
"Please what darlin? Use your words." Simon just whined, mouth unable to form words. "Come on baby girl, be good for me and use your words or I'll have to stop."
"No!" Simon shouted. "I can be good please don't stop I need- I need-" he gasped tears collecting in his balaclava. "Need you," he finally gasped out.
"Oh baby, you're still capable of words, I think you can hold out a little longer."
Simon just whimpered. Johnny slammed into him a few more times, Simon bouncing on him. "Oh, look at you, just taking it. Just a little longer princess, can you do that for me?"
Simon's eyes were glassy and he nodded, mouth open and spit slick on his chin as he gasped.
Finally, finally , Johnny squeezed his throat and slammed into him one last time. "Cum for me princess, you've done so well you deserve it."
A scream tore out of Simon as the orgasm ripped out of him, blacking out.
When Simon came to, Johnny was gently wiping him down with a cloth and the arousal had finally fully faded.
"Wha-?" he mumbled, incoherent and vision swimming slightly.
"Hush princess, I've got you. You just lay there and look pretty for me, yeah?"
Simon unlocked his shoulders, realizing his whole body was aching. He felt himself flush as he registered Johnny's words.
"Princess?" he asked, body flushed with embarrassment.
Johnny just raised an eyebrow. "Problem?" he returned.
Simon couldn't say anything just threw an arm over his eyes. he noticed his balaclava was fully on his face and realized with a jolt that Johnny must have pulled it back over his face. he felt himself flush a little more at the consideration for his privacy
Simon just laid there, letting Johnny take care of him. He knew they'd have to talk about it eventually. knew he'd have to face what they had done. He knew Johnny mentioned doing other things but Simon wondered how much of that was promise and how much was heat of the moment. Still, the consideration, the softness of this moment, of the gentle care Johnny was putting in to make him feel cared for. To make sure he came back down from the high...
He lifted his arm, just a bit, just enough to see the soft smile on Johnny's face.
They'd have to talk eventually, he knew, but he thought they would be alright, whatever the outcome.