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It was 4:15, and Ghost was exhausted. He had just come back from a surveillance mission with Soap, and it had drained him both physically and mentally. He sauntered back to his assigned sleeping area, before stopping in front of his cot. He unclipped then slumped his tactical vest on the edge of his bunk, letting it teeter before hitting the ground, all of the paraphernalia spilling out. He didn’t have the energy to put it down lightly, but didn’t want to damage the gear by letting it fall freely. He inhaled deeply and let his body slightly relax due to the newfound relief in less weight. He sat down with a loud thunk, his body barely bouncing because of the shitty quality of the springs on the mattress. He massaged his shoulders in an attempt to work the kink he felt on the right side. Soap had done that.
Soap had fallen asleep on him on the ride back in the heli. Ghost’s meticulous disposition had kept the two of them overtime. The two were sitting next to each other, Ghost with his arms crossed and Soap with his head leaned against the helicopter’s wall. Ghost watched as Soap’s eyes would close before he woke himself up again, desperately struggling and failing to stay awake. Once he couldn’t fight it anymore, and with the shaking of the transport, Soap’s body slowly shifted until his head was propped against the shoulder of his lieutenant. Ghost’s eyes widened slightly, his breath stuttering for a second from the random contact and proximity.
“Oi”
No movement.
“Johnny.”
Nothing.
Ghost sighed. He was the one who had tired him, so the miniscule amount of guilt he felt made him decide not to wake him. Ghost watched Soap quietly, envying the way he looked so peaceful. Ghost could smell his cedarwood scented shampoo, but the man always smelled good. He wasn't called Soap for nothing. Every time Soap shuffled around or made a groggy noise in his sleep, Ghost would look away, having a comeback on standby in case he awoke. But he didn’t, at least not until they landed. Ghost enjoyed the temporary warmth Johnny had provided, but that was just due to the altitude of course. Soap apologized profusely when they got there, shaming himself for falling asleep on the job. He unknowingly ruled out the possibility that Ghost might have let him.
So here he was, rubbing out his stiff back. His ears perked up at the sound of barreling footsteps coming towards him hearing a familiar Scottish accent shout his name with excitement. How Soap had so much energy now was beyond him.
"Ghost! Ghost!"
Ghost groaned, he had already had enough of the Scot for one day. The door was slightly open already, but Ghost was surprised at the sight of Soap's booted foot kicking the door so hard it smacked against the wall. Ghost stood up and walked towards the commotion, already exasperated. He strode to Soap who came rushing in with a spur of excitement to a degree Ghost had rarely seen. One so obnoxiously giddy it pissed him off.
"Johnny, what the fuck do you think you're-"
"Look!"
Ghost peered his eyes downward a little bit further to see what the Scot was holding. He stiffened. It was a cat. Soap was holding it up by what would've been its shoulders if it was a person, letting its hindlegs hang below it freely. It didn't seem to mind. It was a tabby, with differentiating orange stripes patterning its back. It had cute little green eyes that almost anyone would find adorable. Except Ghost.
Ghost unintentionally held his breath, tensing up every muscle in his body while making direct eye contact with it. After a couple seconds of no visible reaction from his superior, Soap raised his eyebrow and asked "...Lt? You alright?".
Ghost's whole demeanor changed.
"Get that fucking thing away from me" he muttered. His voice was harsh, aggressive, and low.
This staggered Soap.
"Huh? It's just a cat. It's been wandering around the base for-"
"I know what it is, Sergeant." He coughed up, his body still refusing to move. Now that Ghost thought about it, he had seen something running around lately, but he thought it was a prairie dog or something, and frankly he couldn’t bring himself to care. But it was a cat.
"Don't tell me..." Soap cut himself off with a little chuckle. "Don't tell me you're afraid 'o this thing!"
He brought the cat an inch from Ghost's face, peering around from his outstretched arms to gauge his reaction, and almost as if on cue, the cat let out a little mewl. Ghost's breathing became ragged and started hitching quietly.
Soap's playful nature shifted to that of concern after seeing his lieutenant's lack of response once again. If it was more of a phobia, Ghost would’ve just backed away.
“Sir?”
In one swift movement, Ghost clawed his arm in an arch, going straight for Soap’s throat. He grabbed it and clenched, making Soap gasp and drop the cat in a panic. The cat yelled out a high pitched meow and shook its fur, scampering away.
Soap began grasping and clawing at his neck, staring terrified into Ghost’s unwavering gaze. Ghost pulled Soap towards his face, only listening to Soap struggling as he constricted his airway further, leaving him choking for breath.
“Next time…” He paused, the rage intensified in his panting, “do what I say the first time, MacTavish, ''. He slackened his grip on his throat.
Soap fell to his knees, one hand where Ghost’s had been, the other on the ground to steady himself. His heart was pounding, breath unruly. He looked up at his attacker, height even more unnerving from this low on the ground, before cursing out the man.
“What the fuck is your problem?!”
Ghost looked down at him blankly, no malice, pity, nothing. It was unsettling, especially considering the amount of hostility that just occurred. Ghost strode over to his cot and sat down like he had before, but this time, just staring off into the space in front of him. Soap slowly pushed himself to his feet, dusting himself off, trying to piece together what happened. He normally would’ve gone after Ghost, but he was already at a disadvantage. Instead, he stamped towards the door and opened it, turning to face Ghost one last time. Ghost’s left leg was bouncing on the floor at a rapid pace, while he held his right hand with the other. The hand he was holding was the one he used to choke Soap, and it was shaking. Ghost gave Soap his signature side eye.
“Johnny?”
Soap almost softened.
“Yeah?”
Ghost averted his gaze, letting out a prompt scoff.
“Don’t tell Price.”
Soap pursed his lips as a reply, shutting the door behind him hard.
He stood outside the room, mulling over the entire predicament in his head. He didn’t know what the hell he did or what the hell had happened, because even though Ghost was gruff and could be an ass, he never resorted to violence. The two were closer than anyone else on the team, hell they had saved each other numerous times. He obviously wanted to tell Price, the man had just choked him out for god’s sake, but something was off. Maybe it was just Soap giving him the benefit of the doubt due to their closeness, the anxious behavior he had never exhibited before, or the way his name fell out of his lips so lightly. There was something deeper here. He resolved he wasn’t going to tell Price for the time being.
Ghost continued acting strange. In rooms where he was part of a conversation (mostly listening), he’d suddenly just turn and leave. He was more easily agitated, and was either only in the gym or nowhere to be found. Sometimes he would just look at Soap for a few seconds, and by the time Soap turned to look back, he was gone. Tonight, Ghost skipped dinner. It was now around 8, and Soap came back into the room, holding a tray of food between his hands he had brought for his superior. He didn’t have a clue why he did it. If anything, Ghost should have brought a feast to him. The small tabby followed closely behind each step he took, looking up expectantly for a treat. Soap sighed, placing the tray on Ghost’s dresser at the foot of his bed. Soap was in his pajamas, Ghost still in half of his training gear, unable to find the energy to change that fact. Soap pulled on the string connecting to the lights, and the room was covered in a blanket of darkness. Ghost heard the rustling of Soap crawling into his cot before the room went quiet again.
“G’night Ghost.”
“Mmm”
Ghost waited until he heard Soap snoring like a pug, to let out a deep aggravated sigh. He took his gloves off, shaking his hands out gently, before rubbing his eyes. The eyeblack then coated his fingers, and Ghost groaned at his forgetfulness of preparation for bed. About to get up, he turned his head to the left towards Soap's cot, which was directly adjacent to his, only to be greeted by a pair of glowing eyes studying him. He grimaced, holding the look for a couple seconds before turning his head back to the ceiling in defeat. Cheeky bastard, he thought.
Ghost didn’t remember when he drifted off, but he was glad he eventually did. His mind had been running all night, and attempted to fight against his body’s need to close his eyes. He blinked a few times, groggy from sleeping in a good amount of gear like his stuffed cargo pants and helmet, rather than changing into sweats and his balaclava. He felt a gentle rumbling vibration go through him and looked down towards it in alarm, only to see the cat sleeping, purring on his chest. The exhaustion had lulled his senses so much he didn’t notice the thing he had been avoiding so heavily had crawled on top of him while he slept. Every muscle in his body strained and tightened at once, his heart started beating, pounding in response to the realization. He couldn’t move his head, his arms, he couldn’t do anything to change the situation, his body refused. He couldn’t even speak. It took about three minutes for him to actually say something.
“Soap.” he whispered sternly.
“Mmngh” Soap groaned, waving his arm to disregard Ghost, still half asleep.
Another moment of silence passed, as it was hard enough to say it the first time.
“Soap.” he repeated, his voice’s volume raised by just a smidge.
Soap groaned again, stretching his arms until they trembled, before letting out a quick exhale and a “What’dya want?”. His accent revealed itself more than it usually did in that short sentence. He heaved himself up and turned to face Ghost, back slouched and his arms resting on his thighs. He assessed what needed his attention enough to wake him up, then let out a snicker.
“Looks like it likes you, Lt.”
“Just get ‘er off me.”
He made a quick grunt while getting off his cot, walking over before pausing. Soap debated leaving the cat on Ghost, maybe as a little bit of payback, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Doing that would probably come back to bite him in the ass anyways.
“Now.”
“Alright alright, up we go” said Soap, trying to pick the cat up carefully. Ghost watched as the cat opened its eyes in shock, but didn’t fight the relocation. Soap placed it on the ground gently, and it began nuzzling his legs in response. Ghost stayed unmoving, and Soap walked out the room with the cat tailing him so closely it almost tripped him.
Once Soap left, Ghost forced himself out of his bed. He looked around, staring at the eyeblack left on his fingertips for a second, before taking off the gear he slept in and switching to more casual clothing he could wear walking to the showers. His body felt rigid from the constant tense he subjected himself to, but he also slept in half of his gear. Once he changed, he headed towards the bathroom to take a shower and clean himself up.
Ghost was late to breakfast as a result of his tardy hygiene situation, but that wasn’t too unusual for someone with such an aloof nature and high rank. He picked up his food, approaching the table with Soap, Price and Gaz where it looked like a more lively conversation was taking place. Once he got there, he sat down next to Soap. Of course, the conversation was about his little problem he had been trying so hard to avoid.
“Well it’s a girl obviously, thing doesn’t have a pair of gonads” said Soap with a chuckle.
“What if the thing’s been neutered? Gaz asked, genuinely curious.
“Got it’s damn balls chopped off” Soap whispered to himself giggling.
“If that little thing stays around it needs a name. Can’t keep calling it cat.” What Price was saying was slightly muffled by all the food in his mouth. “Can’t you rub your two brain cells together and think of a name that works for both?” The group went quiet in personal deliberation of a name, and the two sergeants started eating again in defeat.
While Soap had arched his back to get a better angle on the dish, Ghost leaned down to his ear and muttered a fast “Thanks,”.
“Mff?” Soap replied a bit dumbfounded, mouth too full of food to give a coherent answer. “I won’t say it again.” Ghost said stiffly, before lifting up the bottom of his balaclava to shovel some food in, hungry from skipping last night’s meal.
Soap swallowed loudly then smiled weakly, letting out a sharp “Aye” before taking a sip of his water. There was an ever so slight tint of red on his cheeks, but that was because he was startled by the abrupt closeness and the thanks from Ghost. The meal continued with talk of the cat, and Ghost continued attempting to ignore the topic at hand, until he heard Gaz laugh, and a “Speak of the devil”. The tabby had come up behind Soap and Ghost, curiously swishing its tail back and forth. Ghost’s body became taut again, but seeing both his superior and insubordinates in front of him, he tried stifling his physical reactions. He clenched his gloved fist under the table as hard as he could and took a deep, shaky breath. Soap shot him a look almost as if to check on him, and Ghost just gave him a side eye back that was indecipherable.
The cat stood on its hindlegs, putting its front paws in the space on the bench between the two men. It faced Soap, lifting its head up towards the piece of breakfast sausage on his fork. Soap smirked, and before Price opened his mouth to reprimand him, Soap met him with “Cats can have a little sausage”. On seeing Soap take the piece of sausage off his fork for it, the cat leapt up on the bench in the cramped space, very close to Ghost. Too close. Ghost slammed his hands on the table and stood up suddenly, making his tray and silverware move with a loud clang. The room was still other than the cat jumping down and scurrying away from the loud noise. The group looked at him perplexed from the random commotion. He was on the verge of panting. Ghost recoiled a bit with the eyes on him, then straightened his position and marched off. Price’s eyebrow was raised, and Gaz’s mouth was drooping in a way that looked like he had gotten caught lying. Soap exchanged awkward glances with the men before sighing deeply, getting up and chasing after his superior. He could hear a couple remarks from the other two along the lines of “guess he’s more of a dog person”.
“Ghost!”
Soap was running after Ghost just barely keeping him in his vision, almost slipping on his own feet with each corner he rounded. He lost sight of him in about a minute, but sped up at the boom of the door he recognized as their room’s. When he reached it, Soap put his entire body weight into his hand to open the door, and watched as Ghost was just sitting on the cot, his leg bouncing accompanied with his thousand yard stare. Ghost didn’t even look up.
“Get out of my room, Johnny”, his voice was low but intense.
“It’s my room too, ya twat!” Soap spat.
“I am your superior. This is an order.”
“And I am disregarding orders, sir.”
A guttural growl bubbled up from Ghost’s throat before he slammed his fist down against the metal support of the bed. Soap had never seen him this riled up. Ghost finally turned to look at him. He was pissed.
“Leave.”
“No! I want to know what the hell is going on with you!” Soap was practically shouting at this point.
“If you knew what was best for you, you’d drop it.”
Soap rolled his eyes dramatically.
“Well I guess I don’t”.
“Clearly.” Ghost grumbled in reply.
“Look, You taught me how to kill a man using scrap metal, but are afraid of a wee pussycat! I just want to know why!
“It’s none of your fucking business, and we’re keeping it that way, seargant” Ghost enunciated his rank to remind him of the boundaries the man was willingly overstepping.
Soap started to backpedal, as running his mouth like he always did might have given Ghost the wrong impression.
“No, I’m not pulling your leg-“
“I don’t know how many times I have to say something before you fucking listen MacTavish! Go!” he exclaimed.
Ghost looked away again. He was obviously done with the conversation, but Soap wasn’t. Soap stood unmoving for a few seconds, exhaling dejectedly, then walking towards Ghost. He lowered himself to a squat on the ground beside the man. He was looking up at him concernedly, and Ghost glanced at him without moving his head. Soap put his hand on Ghost’s knee, but it was swatted away. Ghost was about to issue a rebuke, but was caught off guard before he could.
“Lt. I just want to make sure you’re alright.”
The way Soap’s Scottish accent made the words sound warm almost made Ghost’s slacken ever so slightly.
“M’fine Johnny. Now go.”, Ghost said in an attempt to convince the both of them.
“Yer arse and parsley. You’re a damned liar.”
“It doesn’t matter, it won't affect the job.”
Soap slapped himself on the forehead out of exasperation with the man. He stood up, leaning over the sitting Ghost, and grabbing his superior’s face with his hands, forcing the two into fierce eye contact. Soap’s gaze was ardent, Ghost’s was more a mix of startled and despondent.
“Lt., for fuck’s sake, I care about you! “ Soap shouted. “I don’t give a shit how this affects the team, the dynamic, I’m worried about you, you daft bastard! And don’t give me a sly comeback for once, just listen to me! Christ!”
A silence hung between them. The two just stared at each other for a little while. Soap didn’t realize how much of the distance he had closed. It was a heat of the moment thing, but what hit him even harder was that Ghost let him hold his face. A slight blush painted his face at the realization, a mix of arousal and embarrassment. Soap’s heart was pounding, he was yelling at his superior and breaking protocol as teammates. But Ghost’s heart was beating just as, if not faster than the Scot’s. Anyone else’s touch, Ghost would have flinched, grabbed them, felt claustrophobic. But this was the first time he wasn’t afraid it would hurt him. Ghost closed his eyes in a way that almost looked like he was wincing, and just melted. His strong, unbothered facade he had worked so hard to compose had completely dropped. Every muscle that was previously taut had loosened, and Ghost let out a long, shaky breath. Soap’s eyes widened, he hadn’t expected this, and the shock made him blush harder. He didn’t know whether or not to move his hands, what this exchange had meant or would mean in the future.
Soap looked away bashfully, hands still on the man’s face, face completely red.
“You daft bastard,” he repeated.
Ghost didn’t know what to do. He was utterly humiliated that he had just softened so much at just the touch of his teammate, and was thanking god for the mask that covered him. The man who was so intent on thinking logically, avoiding any emotion in his line of work, was at a standstill with himself. He wanted, no, needed him, he was the only person who had ever made him feel like everything that was so wrong with him was right. Even after he had avoided him, ignored him, almost killed him for his own demented reasons, Soap was still here, right by his side. The precaution that had previously defined the man was now null and void. For once, he let his heart lead. With his right hand he tenderly grabbed Johnny’s chin, and with the left he dragged the bottom of his balaclava up just below his nose. He quickly pulled Soap’s face towards his until their lips met. Soap let out a surprised noise, but in no way withdrew from the kiss. It was long and tender, something sweet, almost a thank you. When Soap finally pulled away, Ghost opened his eyes to see the signature smirk that annoyed him to no end. Ghost softly smiled back, and Soap was relishing in actually being able to see it for once. But the gravity of the situation hit Ghost, and his smile became a quivering lip. Soap was his teammate, his brother in arms. His pent up feelings had finally been freed, and now there was no hope in closing the floodgates. He was depending on Soap to be his conscience. Ghost put his gloved hand on the man’s shoulder, squeezing and applying a soft pressure.
“Tell me … tell me you don’t want this.” Ghost whispered.
Soap chuckled.
“Now why the hell would I do that?”
Fuck.
Ghost wrapped his hands around Soap’s back and heaved him onto his lap ravenously. Soap straddled Ghost’s legs, with one hand on his shoulder and the other cupping his jaw, rubbing his thumb over the short blonde stubble. On feeling this sensation again, Ghost leaned his body weight into the hand, exhaling and letting out a quiet content “mmm”. Soap studied the simper that worked its way across Ghost’s lips. Soap kissed into it, slowly working his tongue in, with Ghost following his lead. After that, Soap moved his hands to the back of Ghost’s neck, leaning into it and nibbling. He gave gentle love bites, enjoying every noise that escaped Ghost’s mouth. Ghost tried to suppress them, and unwillingly let out a quick moan, followed by a breathy “Johnny”. Soap flushed red, tearing back for a moment, snickering at what he had reduced the stoic man to. Ghost let out a scoff and smiled roguishly, using Soap’s sheepish reaction to catch him off guard. He grabbed a piece of Soap’s hair and used it to pull him back into the action, this time he was commanding. He couldn’t let Soap have all the fun.
Ghost drank in the warmth emanating from Soap, cherishing it, trying to soak in every piece as he kissed the man. It was calming, supportive, but the type that ignited a fire within him that he would risk anything for. It was something that was long locked away, and in its return, there was a notion it could never be sealed again. To Soap, Ghost’s breath was like a breeze on a winter day. The type that makes a chill reverberate in your lungs, the type that gives you goosebumps, the type that encases your entire being. He wanted to inhale as much of it as he could, to savor the minor sting, the hurt that invigorated him. So that’s exactly what Soap did.
They both could feel their hearts pounding against each other as they tried to get their hands and bodies as close to each other as possible. There wasn’t a thought going through the head of either besides how badly each needed the other. Eventually, Soap created a little distance, pushing himself away using Ghost’s, and Ghost’s head tried to follow his lips as he receded. Ghost opened his eyes and the two gazed at each other, and Ghost smirked at the excitable grin plastered on the Scot’s face. Soap looked down, taking his finger and slowly picking up the bottom of Ghost’s shirt, before looking back up with coy eyes, asking for permission.
Ghost went slightly stiff, surveying the situation he had put the two of them in. He put his hand on Soap’s and shook his head a small degree. He pulled the bottom of his balaclava over the bottom of his face once more, shutting the man underneath the mask away from its eager viewer.
“I-I’m sorry,” Ghost whispered.
Soap had never seen him stutter before. He pushed himself off his superior’s lap, shifting himself to sit beside the man on the bunk.
“Don’t be sorry, I get it, we shouldn’t have-”
“It’s not that,” He cut Soap off. “Just, I can’t now.”
Soap’s cheeks reddened a bit at the implication of something more in the future.
“Oh, well I-”
“No, I started it Johnny, I- ”
They both stopped talking when they noticed themselves interrupting the other, and Soap let out a snicker. It was laughable, the fact that both of them, the two cockiest men there, were faltering at the other’s words. A silent air hung between the two for a little, but one both were content with for a while, before Soap got slightly anxious at the idea he could be torturing by just sitting there not doing anything. Soap mustered up the courage after intense internal deliberation and spoke.
“Do you… want to talk about the cat thing?”
As soon as he said that, he internally criticized himself. It was something along the lines of “Why did I ask that? Why the fuck would he want to talk about that?”, but he was pulled out of his head by the noise he got in response.
Ghost groaned, annoyed at the ramifications of his actions, remembering this whole thing only happened because of that. It all seemed so insignificant now considering what had just occurred, but he wasn’t going to leave Soap high and dry.
“Why do I put up with you?” he jeered, hoping to lighten the mood, knowing what was to come.
“Because I’m the only one who will put up with you.” Soap retorted.
“And! And you choked me out. I deserve an explanation and some praise for not going ballistic on you,”
Ghost sighed. He was right. “Frankly, I don’t want to, but I’ll tell you,” he muttered.
In all honesty, Soap had expected a no. A story coming from Ghost was breaking the confines the man had put in place just with his aura: to never ask. Ghost was now struggling to find the words or even how to speak them. He wasn’t a big feelings guy. He was uncomfortable. These circumstances were surprisingly easing, something he was not used to in the slightest. He thanked God once again for the mask, the embarrassment had reached his ears by this point. Ghost swallowed hard, looking forward.
“Used to have a cat. Tabby, like the one here. Looks just like it. Liked it a good bit. Only thing in that house that wasn’t out to get me.”
Ghost glimpsed at Soap for a split second, watching as the man’s expression turned more bitter and sorrowful. He unintentionally looked back at him with contempt, because the last thing he ever wanted was pity. He exhaled forcefully before continuing.
“Man used to beat the shit out of me. All of us. An alcoholic piece of shit he was. But that cat, that stupid fucking cat distracted me. For the time being. It slinked around and shit, a stray that broke in for some food. I gave it some, started to warm up to me. But that bastard found out. Must’ve left some food on a plate or something so he grabbed it. Somehow he knew it was me, and pulled me out to the backyard by my ear.”
Ghost paused, letting out a disgruntled noise, and Soap slid his hand over Ghost’s and squeezed. This made him flinch and pause for even longer, but eventually clearing his throat and progressing the story.
“Made me watch as he stabbed it to death. Repeatedly. My hair in one hand, knife in the other, boot pinning down the cat.”
“Christ”, Soap let slip, before stopping, assuming Ghost would continue. He didn’t. Ghost knew how to mince his words.
“Ran away from that hell for a reason, somehow keeps finding a way to pull me back,” Ghost said under his breath, his leg bouncing again.
“Jesus, I’m sorry.”
Ghost looked away, still not accustomed to the influx of affection. “Not your fault.”
“Well I put the cat-”
“Well it’s not often you see cats so close to active fucking gunfire and military training,” Ghost interrupted, and Soap swore he could hear a smirk.
“And you didn’t know. Not your fault.”
“I get it, I get it, haud yer wheesht.” Soap replied.
“In a language I understand?”
Soap grinned.
“You’re a lovely fella who can do no wrong,” he said, donning a poor excuse for a British accent.
Ghost let out a short chuckle before throwing his hands up reluctantly. “I’ll take it,”
It felt nice, the air was still comfortable after Ghost had just made himself vulnerable in a way he never had before. He felt safe. And as soon as he recognized that, his face dropped.
Ghost looked down shakily at his hands, already craving the touch that had just left him a moment ago. Gritting his teeth, he sighed.
“We can’t do this.”
“What?”
“You and me. We can’t do this,”
Soap was floored.
“You, you just-” Ghost watched as the astonishment turned to rage.
“You spill your fucking guts out, you, stone cold Simon Riley, and then just want me to act like it didn’t happen? Like we didn’t just-”
“I’m your superior,” Ghost cut him short.
Soap was seething at this point, clenching a piece of his own hair in his hand, winded from all the shouting and all the turmoil he was experiencing.
“You’re - you’re throwing me for a loop Lt.. I don’t know what the hell you want from me here,”
“I don’t either. And that’s exactly why this is ending,”
Ghost slowly pulled the glove off of his right hand, before pivoting his body and moving the hand upwards to hold it along Soap’s jawline. Ghost’s hands were large, calloused and scarred, but he held his face so gently it felt like his hand was barely there. Soap’s skin prickled at the engagement, a shiver rushing down his spine.
“Johnny,” he whispered.
The nickname made him weak.
“Don't,” Soap pleaded.
He looked at Ghost longingly, begging, praying for him not to do what he knew was inevitable.
“I can’t…”
Ghost couldn’t even finish his sentence. But Soap understood. Soap knew why the cat thing meant so much to him. Soap understood how so many things that had given Ghost solace were forcefully taken from him. And how Ghost had finally found something, someone, that made him find tranquility in his tormented mind. The way Ghost said “I”, not “we”, made Soap realize how the poor bastard didn’t believe he was worthy of him, and was trying to make the hurt less painful for the both of them.
Soap took a deep breath, then put his hand on top of Ghost’s, gripping it tightly.
“I’m not going away that easily, as much as you want me to,”
Ghost’s look was pained, he stared into the man in front of him with an anguish he had felt so many times before. He knew he couldn’t, but he needed to. As his brain screamed at him in retaliation, he pulled Soap in closer.
“I don’t want you to.”, he breathed against his will.
Soap’s gaze softened, and a weak grin overtook his lips. He raised Ghost’s balaclava above his mouth once again and kissed him. This one was short, delicate, and Soap tried to safeguard the memory of Ghost’s chapped lips and semblance of a scar as he pulled away.
“I know,”
Ghost was silent. His eyes were bleak yet hopeful. Soap admired the uncertain smile Ghost attempted to offer him.
“Cat got your tongue?” Soap mused.
“I’ll kill you.”