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After a successful disarming of the missiles and the death of Zyani, relief made its way through all members of the 141. They had saved many. But it wasn’t a fair trade, because while the lives of American citizens were safe, many in the town of Las Almas were lost.
In Graves’s rampage, both active members and innocent Las Almas natives got caught in the crossfire. The city was now back under the iron fist of Valeria, and its inhabitants were more inclined to trust the cartel rather than Alejandro, as he was the one who had harbored the Shadows. The guilt the 141 felt was immense, and with someone like Zyani out of commission, the probability of a similar threat reemerging soon was not likely. As both an apology and a little bit of mitigation, Price decided to send Ghost and Soap back to Las Almas. Their mission was to help where they could, primarily by rehabilitating the town and weeding out low-level parts of the drug network.
As Ghost and Soap arrived, they strode out of the whirring helicopter like they had done the first time they landed; with Alejandro waiting to greet them.
“Glad you made it, hermanos!” Alejandro shouted, trying to make himself heard above the whirring of the blades.
“Long time no see, eh?” Soap answered, and Alejandro let out a hearty chuckle. He patted Soap on the back twice before craning his head upwards to look at Ghost.
“Lieutenant,” he said warmly.
“Alejandro.” The name sounded slightly janky and blunt from his accent. For all the time he had spent with the Vaqueros, Ghost’s British heritage was too strong for his own good.
“What’s the plan?” Soap asked. The reuniting had riled him up, and he was eager to get back out there and simultaneously learn more Spanish. The details were laid out.
While the 141 dealt with the missiles, Alejandro had made serious progress. Valeria being released would be a problem, and Alejandro knew this but used it to his advantage the best he could. While very unprofessional and highly immoral, Alejandro had tied up Valeria and duct-taped her mouth shut. He took pictures of her with guns aimed at her to make it look like she was being held hostage. He had tried to take videos, but Valeria was too nonchalant and easy-going, knowing that Alejandro couldn’t even kill her even if he wanted to.
The town was still in so much disarray, so Alejandro sent some vaqueros undercover to use the pictures. They were able to find some lackeys who knew that she was the boss, but not that she was free, and then threatened them in exchange for information. They had seen how lost the cartel was without a boss, so they all gave in, and while some provided false information, it didn’t matter. Three of them had given directions or coordinates to a small stocked warehouse.
Unfortunately, the warehouse was protected. A decent amount of substances were either imported or exported here, and though this wasn’t a main hub, anything counted against the Narcos. Alejandro knew this was the case, and therefore didn’t want to expend too many resources on it. He was hesitant to leave the Vaqueros, and if anything went awry he would have to leave the responsibility to Rudy once again. So, as a solution, he decided to send out his returning comrades to raid the place.
Alejandro was stationed at the base with a rough layout of the warehouse to direct the men, and Rudy drove the two to a group of houses about half a mile away. He was backup and would move to retrieve them if such a situation arose. They arrived at the designated spot, and before Rudy swiveled to talk to the both of them.
“Stay safe,” Rudy cautioned.
“Keep us updated,” Ghost ordered.
Rudy gave him a quick affirmative nod then Ghost and Soap hopped out of the vehicle. Soap pulled a plain black balaclava over his face, as he had already made himself well-known at the cartel party. Ghost stayed sporting the balaclava he had used on the takeback.
They slowly made their way over through the edge of the town and the dry terrain, approaching the warehouse apprehensively. Ghost was clutching his gun rather tightly, constantly checking all angles around him, while Soap did so occasionally, just briefly skimming the area with his eyes. They had to be careful. Though they were breaking and entering, both of them knew they had to be shot at first before they could fire back, or else they were risking both 141’s integrity and Price’s authority. At the same time, that meant they were risking their lives. Then again, if Ghost would even follow the rules of engagement was 50/50, because Soap had once heard him mutter “can’t say we shot first if they’re dead”.
Ghost and Soap positioned themselves behind stray bushes, moving from one to the next and doing a full loop of the warehouse while using the environment to hide them. No one was outside. It gave the duo the advantage in the fact that they now had the element of surprise on their hands, but they also knew that in close quarters the combat would be intense and they could be cornered easily.
Ghost hurried up to what seemed like the main door entrance, though it was a shabby excuse for one. He placed his back against the wall on one side of the door and Soap mirrored him on the opposite side. Ghost then slid a smoke grenade out from one of his tactical pouches, and gestured to Soap that he would slam the door open. Soap nodded, steadying himself with his rifle, then side-eyeing Ghost for the go-ahead. Ghost signaled. Soap used the force of his body weight and the gun to break the door from its lock, and Ghost pulled the pin from the smoke, quickly scanning the area for entrances and exits, then chucked it to a small corridor to block movement.
A plethora of Spanish shouting ensued. Soap charged in, ducking and running to a box to use as cover and gain ground. One of the first people to spot them was caught up in the commotion, and when he pulled a pistol out to shoot at Soap, his shakiness sent the bullet astray. Now that the first shot was fired, they were in the clear. Ghost then peered around the side of the door, angling himself and his rifle to shoot men stationed on the upper railings. They fell and gave him an opening, which he used to shuffle forwards and hide behind hastily stacked bags of drugs.
Soap was dealing with some grunts on the left, and when Ghost positioned himself on top of the bags in front of him, looking around at the entrances still vacant to spot runners. The indoor layout plans were wrong, so Ghost was unaware of the path that could be taken to recuperate in a side room in the back. That room led to the corridor that was smoked, and one of the men was brave enough to rush through it. He had gotten the jump on Ghost, and shot at him, narrowly missing. Ghost had time to duck back down for cover, but the stream of bullets shot the powdered material within the bags leading the contents to spill and spread through the air. Ghost ducked back down to steady himself, but in trying to catch his breath he inhaled a load of whatever the hell was in those bags and floating about in his vicinity. He choked, then fell over, starting what looked like a coughing fit on the ground.
“Ghost!”
At the convulsing of his ally on the ground, Soap was imbued with panic and a sudden rage. He pivoted, landing clean shots on the man responsible. Once he was down, Soap stayed on high alert. After a few seconds of no movement, he let out an exasperated breath and ran through the smoke Ghost had thrown. Adrenaline pumping high, he did a quick and thorough run-through of the rooms he had remembered in the layout and any others he deemed necessary. As he had suspected, there were a few men waiting for the clamor to die down to jolt out at them. Their Spanish cries were cut off by Soap’s bullets. He finished up the survey and bolted back to Ghost. He was choking less now, but in no way could be considered in good condition.
Though Ghost was still struggling, his eyes widened as he noticed Soap rushing at him.
“Stay back!” Ghost sputtered through his chokes.
But Soap never listened when he needed to. He ran over to Ghost, slinging his gun onto his back and falling to his knees in front of the man. Ghost leaned his head back with a throaty and tired groan. Soap threw his mask off in a huff, then ran his hands over Ghost’s body in a hurry to check if there were any wounds. Ghost’s breath was labored, and he pushed Soap off of him with a strained grunt.
“M’fine.”
“Right. Then what the hell happened?” Soap retorted.
Ghost let out an exasperated sigh amid his heavy breathing. Despite Ghost’s protest, Soap laid his hand on Ghost’s shoulder to assist and steady him. Ghost never liked having Soap take the lead. Soap on the field was bold and aggressive; without Ghost’s watch, that behavior could be his end. Once Ghost had finally collected himself, he gently raised his shoulder up to nudge Soap’s touch from him. Soap interpreted the tameness of the push as a thank you.
“Fuckin’ drugs in the air, got some in my system,” he explained.
“Christ almighty.”
There was a brief pause before the concern on Soap’s face increased.
“Wait, in the air, so am I-”
“Most likely. Told you not to come over, twat,”
“For fuck’s sake,” Soap grumbled, running his fingers through his hair and looking down at the mask he had taken off out of discomfort.
“Dispersed a bit, though,” Ghost said. “Don’t know what it is, but I got the brunt of it.”
Soap then turned his body to the bags beside Soap and started rummaging through them.
“Gotta be a label or something, right?”
As Soap continued in a slight panic, Ghost sighed. However much he inhaled could have bad effects, but he knew through the air alone it wasn’t enough to kill him. He stayed there, watching as Soap feverishly flipped over the bags, unintentionally spilling more onto the floor to find any words at all.
“Any more narcos?” Ghost asked.
“None. Made sure of it sir.”
Whenever Soap said sir, it always sounded like “si” with the way his accent cut off the end of the word. He liked that.
“Good,” Ghost purred. He didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but the contentment and tiredness residing in his voice made it sound almost seductive. Soap paused, not turning around, and seeing this, Ghost let out an awkward cough. Ghost suddenly became aware he was boring a hole into the man instead of being useful, so he stood up and began to walk the areas that were cleared to double-check. Like Soap had said, the rooms were clear. As Ghost came back, Soap looked up in excitement.
“Conejo!” Soap shouted out.
Silence.
“What’s it mean?” Ghost said after a minute.
Soap then put his head in his hands and let out a long, aggravated groan, realizing that the information was useless.
“Don’t got a clue in the slightest, don’t fuckin’ know Spanish,” he said.
Ghost chuckled, though he was just as uninformed as Soap.
“I’m a fuckin eejit,” Soap muttered.
“That you are.”
Though the powder was a mystery, they weren’t too on edge. Soap and Ghost had wrongfully assumed whatever they breathed in would have no effect due to the quantity. Because it was powdered, they both speculated it to be a stimulant or narcotic, as the cartel had been known for selling those. But this wasn’t either of those. This was an aphrodisiac. One that was handcrafted in a cruddy makeshift laboratory and that needed a gas mask just to be handled properly before it was pressed. It was highly potent, worked fast, needed little dosage, and was given the nickname “Conejo”, or bunny, as those who used the product said they were “fucking like rabbits”. But Ghost and Soap were oblivious. The worst they assumed was going to happen was a mild frenzy or a brief relaxed night.
Soap leaned into his chin and turned his microphone on to report back.
“Alright Rudy, you can-”
“Need to do another sweep,” Ghost interjected. “May not be clear, stay put.”
Before Soap could say anything, Rudy gave an affirmative and closed communication again. Confused, Soap turned to Ghost with a look of slight indignation.
“The hell’re you doing?”
“You answer to me first,” Ghost spat. “We’re helping out here, but 141 takes priority, sergeant.”
He then blinked sort of harshly, in surprise at himself. What spurred that? He was always calculated, and with a mission like this, getting the hell out of there was imperative. Who knew if there was a schedule, people on their way right now to receive or transport goods? So why did he want to stay?
“What does that mean?”
Ghost was already in too deep, but was quick on his feet.
“Means there could be info on other warehouses,” he fibbed.
“That wasn’t the mission,” Soap answered in a huff.
“Can it. It’ll help for the next one.”
That technically was true, but Soap thought they should have at least alerted Rudy to the change in plans, maybe even assist them in the sweep before they left. But he didn’t speak up. Quarreling with his superior, Ghost no less, could lead to trouble down the line and possible mistakes in the field.
“Alright,” Soap said in resignation.
They split up, with Ghost taking the left and Soap taking the right side. Soap searched around with a bit of a temper, but it quickly faded. Ghost, on the other hand, made his way up the railings and bent down to examine the bodies of the fallen men. He started combing through the armor and pockets of those in front of him. Bingo. He had found an office room key. It was most likely upstairs, as he didn’t see a room that could be considered an office or anything leading to one on his initial sweep.
“Oi, Johnny,” Ghost grunted, and a modest echo followed both noises.
Soap craned his head upwards and grinned slyly. Ghost hadn’t noticed it until now, but Soap’s mohawk looked a little overgrown and ever so slightly shaggy. Paired with his light stubble of an incoming beard, Ghost assumed he didn’t have much time to trim either part due to being thrown around from one mission to the next. But Ghost didn’t mind. Instead, he realized he preferred it. The light from an overhead window illuminated Soap, shining on his body, specifically his chest. God, he looked good right now. Well, he always looked good, but maybe it was the glow about him, his disheveled hair, the way the shirt beneath his gear held his body tightly. Wait, what the fuck? Ghost noticed he was biting his lower lip, and hard. Why was he thinking about Soap like this? This was Soap. This was Johnny. His teammate. He had always thought he was a looker, but-
“Good shit. On the way, Lt.”
As Soap hurried up the stairs, Ghost stayed stationary, the only movement present in his eyes, following the man approaching him diligently. Soap picked up on this, and tilted his head slightly as Ghost stood up to greet him.
“Ye got a staring problem or something?”
Ghost coughed hard, trying to regain a hold of himself by forcing his mind back to the present situation.
“Didn’t ask for input,” he retorted.
“Ooh, touched a nerve there did I? Am I that pretty?” Soap teased.
“Quiet. Let's go.”
They started walking around the upper floor to find the office, and Ghost could feel his breathing become slightly more labored with need, so he tried to repurpose his rising arousal into anger. He’d rather have Soap think he was pissed at him for no reason than know that he was attracted to him. To his dismay, Soap continued making little jabs and jokes at him, making his patience run thin. He wanted Soap to shut up, because he started realizing he was hanging on to every word he said, only wanting to hear more and more. His Scottish accent had him cutting off words or drawing them out, and it reminded him of whiskey; soft with a slight edge. He was getting drunk off of it. He had never been this affected by Soap’s presence, especially on a mission, because that’s when repression of these urges was the most vital. What the fuck was happening to him?
Soap was starting to feel some minimal effects as well, but he was none the wiser. He had just thought he was pent up, meaning his mouth ran more than it usually did. And if anything, he had always looked at Ghost the way Ghost was looking at him now. His way of flirting was through subtle jokes and comments that could easily be interpreted one way or another to keep himself safe. This was his lieutenant after all, and no reciprocation could mean no 141 for him. But on nights like this, where he was pent up from the lack of, well, everything, he’d pump himself into his fist and cover his mouth to muffle the pleasure-filled murmuring of the name Simon Riley.
Thinking about jerking off to the man right in front of him left his cheeks painted with a slight red blush. Soap quickly shook his head as if doing so would rid him of the obscene thoughts plaguing him.
“I’m on a mission, this is insane, ”, they both told themselves. But internal chiding did nothing to alleviate the drugs making their way through their combined bloodstreams.
They found the office the key went to, and Ghost put his hand out to halt Soap. Soap had already proved himself enough for this mission, and Ghost’s pride was a bit shaken in needing to be covered like that. Ghost tightened his grip on his rifle before grunting and pushing the door open, scanning the room with his finger resting readily on the trigger. It was empty.
Like the warehouse, the office was run down. It was a small room, and it seemed to double as a break area, considering there was a linen tuxedo couch and a coffee table in one corner. On the other side of the room stood filing cabinets and a single desk with a computer from the early 2000s. The two threw their guns down to make searching easier, and Soap made a b-line for the computer. He started clicking obnoxiously on the mouse before holding down a few keys on the keyboard and a button on the side. The monitor lit up to display the home screen.
“No password?”
“Nah, there was,” Soap said. “My Da bought one of these old shites and I found out how to bypass the parental lock.”
“Christ, forget how young you are sometimes,” Ghost commented.
“You’re what, seven years older than me, max?”
“With age comes wisdom, and you haven’t been alive long enough to gain any, shit for brains.”
“Yeah right. Look for a USB would ya? Neither of us can read any o’ this, but the vaqueros can.”
Ghost stilled once again. Soap didn’t know how fucking crazy he was driving Ghost with his presence alone. Soap was leaning over the desk at a slant, on an angle that made his ass look tight. And the way the word vaqueros fell from his lips, the Scottish accent made it sound gangly and awkward in just the way he liked it. Soap would talk his ear off in that irritating dialect, but every time he did his adam’s apple bobbed up and down against his brand-new slutty little throat mic. Ghost was losing it. At the lack of sound, Soap craned his head back to look at Ghost.
“Preferably now?”
There was a brief moment and a confused look crept its way across Soap’s face. He felt his cheeks run hot once again as Ghost’s eyes slowly dragged up his body to eventually meet his. He was being stared down, and hard. Soap felt like he was going to be eaten alive by the gaze alone, and swallowed.
“On it,” Ghost said.
Ghost started searching in, on, and around the filing cabinets, and after a few seconds, Soap exhaled shakily. Was it relief? He had no clue, because as terrifying as the man was in that flash, Soap could feel himself getting hard at the way he was sized up. Even if he looked like he was going to kill him, Soap couldn’t stop thinking about the way his hands would be all over his body. Christ, he was deranged. Soap thought he detected a hint of lust in Ghost’s eyes but falsely attributed it to his own unfulfilled needs.
While Ghost was scouring around on his knees to reach the lower-level filing cabinets he suddenly paused. He had heard Soap’s unsteady breath, and his mind went awry against his will. Lewd and lascivious thoughts snaked their way into his head once again, like having Soap swallow him instead or other ways to push more hot and heavy breaths from his mouth. Ghost threw a hurried hand to his own mouth, trying to stifle what seemed like a mix between a grunt and a whimper. His libido was disorienting him and he fell back to sit on his calves as he tried to calm himself. Unfortunately, his attempts were in vain, because the strange mumbling attracted Soap’s attention.
“Lt? You alright?”
Ghost couldn’t even muster out a sentence. Soap turned around to see Ghost, and grimaced in fear. Something was off. He slowly walked over, then put his hand on his shoulder to angle himself to get a good look at the man. He looked him up and down, but his gaze was drawn to the tent in Ghost’s pants, one so extreme it seemed like it was having trouble being restrained by the fabric.
“Christ,” Soap said with widened eyes, frozen like a deer in headlights.
“Fuck. It’s not-“
Soap waited a moment, comprehending the situation he had just stumbled into, and for once, thought before he spoke.
“No, no I get it, I won’t judge, missions are hard, not a lot of action the whole spiel.”
Soap hesitated. What was different now? What changed this mission from everything else? Then it dawned on him. They were alone.
“But… I do have to ask… is that because of me?”
Ghost, a man who prided himself on his witty comebacks and ability to keep cool, was speechless. His thoughts were so overpowered by his body’s increasing need for the man beside him, and part of him feared that if he spoke he’d regret it. But his silence was also an admission. Soap let out a chuckle in disbelief.
“My god.”
He ran his fingers through his hair again and chuckled once more.
“So you are taking a shine to me, then?”
“Johnny-“
He moved around Ghost and sat in front of him in a squat. Soap took the hand on his shoulder and used it to lean into the crook of Ghost’s neck and whisper in his ear.
“You got a full hard-on right now… and considering you’re my superior, that’s quite unprofessional, wouldn’t you say?”
Soap’s teasing was pushing Ghost further to the brink of lust. He didn’t know whether he wanted to kiss him to shut him up or have the teasing continue to hear that intoxicating little drawl. Ghost cleared his throat and tried to regain ahold of himself, but Soap spoke first.
“I’ve wanted this for a long time, Ghost. Didn’t realize you wanted it too.”
This didn’t seem real, it couldn’t be. But it was, and Ghost could tell because he felt his need grow as Soap moved himself to straddle Ghost’s thighs with his own.
“...you serious?”
“Aye. I’ve just got a bit more dignity about me, it seems.”
Ghost eyed the man who had just slid himself on top of him and scoffed. As much as Soap was right about his desperation, there was no way Ghost was going to let him have the high ground in this situation.
“Dignity?”
“Mhmm,” Soap affirmed. Whether it was out of his compulsions or looking for a quick jab, Ghost eyes made their way below Soap’s waistline. There was a noticeable bulge in his pants too, and Ghost grinned devilishly under the mask.
“Really? You’re a pisspoor liar, Johnny. Because…”
Ghost reached his hand down and palmed Soap, which elicited a quick and needy groan from his lips. This time Ghost craned himself into Soap’s ear.
“What about that was dignified?”
“Dirty bastard,” Soap spat.
Ghost pulled himself back to stare at the man in front of him, licking his lips and gazing at him on the fringes of true and reckless sensuality.
“Tease me all you want, we’re in the same boat,” he said.
Soap’s face twitched as he bit his lip before his signature shit-eating smirk made its way onto his face.
“You gonna do something about it?”
Ghost had to stop himself. He lifted up the bottom of his balaclava to rest on top of his nose. Though it was such a small action, it almost destroyed the front Soap was upholding. He absorbed any semblance of the man underneath the mask he could, since the last time he saw Ghost’s face was when everyone else did. This was special, close, and fucking lust-inducing. He specifically stared at Ghost’s lips, chapped and interrupted by a diagonal scar in the corner that faded into his strawberry blond stubble. Ghost mirrored Soap’s wry expression at the reaction.
“Depends. Are you?”
They were so close, merely inches away from contact, each man a tantalizing nuisance to the other. They both tried to suppress their hot breaths and heartbeats out of pure pettiness. Who would break first was completely up in the air.
It was Ghost. Wrapping one hand to rest on Soap’s shoulder blade and the other on the back of Soap’s head, he pulled him into a brash kiss. Soap answered eagerly, moving his hands to cup Ghost’s face. Feeling the stubble, feeling the face of the man he had been craving for so long was unreal. The achievement of holding out longer went straight to Soap’s dick, feeling a sensuous pride overtake him as he realized was the one to make stoic old Ghost such a profligate.
Ghost on the other hand was visceral in his actions. All those sleepless nights of self-denying festering attraction and emotion had finally come to light. Every time he watched another man pat Soap on the back, grab his arm, do anything, a rage was ignited inside of him. But he always held back, he was his sergeant, and he thought it was one-sided, so he chided himself. He was utterly shameless at this moment, devoid of all logic, his only concern was the man kissing him.
Their kisses were a battle of dominance. It was like they were dying of starvation or dehydration, but instead, they were dying for each other. Ghost ran his hands up and down Soap’s body, clawing and grabbing at any skin he could. He intertwined his fingers within Soap’s mohawk, which made Soap draw out a low and throaty groan. The way Ghost manhandled him was exhilarating. Soap opted for grabbing at Ghost’s shoulders and neck, he would have preferred Ghost’s pecs, but the gear currently obstructed that possibility, and being on top of the man ranked higher in priority. Ghost’s breaths were short and heated, often cut off by how much Soap either nipped at his bottom lip or cut him off completely with his own lips. Ghost drank up how vocal Soap was with just the kisses, feeling the quiet whimpers and “mmm”s reverberate into his own mouth. This made Ghost move his tongue ferociously within Soap’s mouth, and Soap followed suit. It was like every tastebud needed to interact with the other’s, and they kissed like the other’s lips were ambrosia, divine saccharine nectar imparted by the gods.
Ghost pulled Soap further up onto his lap to sit right on his groin. He leaned into Soap’s neck and started giving him hickies aggressively. Soap bit his bottom lip and shuddered, trying to conceal the whines and whimpers escaping his lips as Ghost sucked on his skin. Then, as if he was rabid, Ghost bit down on Soap’s neck, evoking a sensual cry from its recipient.
“Fuck… you’re insane,” Soap exhaled.
Ghost pulled away, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.
“You’re all fucking mine,” he growled through grit teeth.
Ghost had gone feral, and to know that Soap had evoked this type of behavior made his heart skip a beat.
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
At that, Ghost balled his fist around the neck of Soap’s shirt and pulled him into on quick kiss before withdrawing and standing up, forcing the man wrapped around him to the ground. As he stood, he pulled the bottom of the rolling desk chair closer to the two of them, then sat down with his legs spread. He fiddled with his trousers and pulled down his boxers to reveal himself.
Soap felt himself salivate. He’d imagined it sure, but not like this. Ghost was fucking massive.
“Come on,” Ghost beckoned.
“You’re not gonna get it that easily,” Soap said, letting out a snicker with his taunt.
“You’re gonna make me fucking beg for it?”
“I guess I am.”
Ghost scoffed. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t deny how badly his entire soul craved him.
“Fuck. Please, Johnny.”
Making his higher-up plead for his touch while being called his little nickname turned Soap on to high heaven. He spat on his palm then hastily wrapped his hand around the base of Ghost’s hard cock, and Ghost jolted at the sudden contact.
“Sensitive, are we?” Soap jeered.
Soap started stroking at a minimal pace, staring up at him with a doe-eye glance as he worked his hand up and down the man. After Ghost shivered with a quiet whimper, Soap chuckled, putting his mouth near the tip and teasing him with little kitten licks. Soap then put the head to his lips, kissing it before holding it in his mouth and caressing it with his tongue. As Ghost twitched with arousal, Soap finally put the whole thing in his mouth, and Ghost leaned his head back ever so slightly at the sensation. Soap added his other hand, then started moving his head back and forth up Ghost. Soap devoured the way he could feel the little twitches in his mouth, bringing to attention how much Ghost had smothered his desires. Ghost weaved his fingers through Soap’s mohawk again and Soap gratefully let himself fall into the touch.
“Atta boy,” Ghost grunted, shaky from the pleasure. “Just like that, Johnny.”
Soap swallowed the praise like he swallowed Ghost; fervently. He nodded as he moved up and down Ghost further, occasionally readjusting his hands on the base. This was better than he dreamed.
Ghost had to put his hand over his mouth once again to control himself, because Soap looked heavenly. The red that adorned his face, his lustful eyes flitting, slightly rolled back and creased as he took the entirety of him greedily. Soap didn’t need to say anything, Ghost could tell just from his expression that he was begging “yes god, please more”. Ghost obliged, repositioning himself and harshly bucking his hips to push himself further into Soap’s throat.
“All of it, take all of it.”
Soap let out a vulgar moan in acknowledgment of Ghost’s movements, and feeling the reverberation on top of him, Ghost’s breath hitched as he exhaled. As Soap continued sucking, he gradually felt his own needs grow in importance as they were unanswered. In a haste, Soap removed one of the hands on Ghost and maneuvered it right to his belt. He fumbled with the buckle for a little bit, and after a short struggle, he was finally able to pull his cock out. Soap started thrusting into his hand, extorting more whines and moans right onto Ghost’s dick.
“Christ, you’re a whore for me. Least that mouth is good for something-” Ghost muttered before he was cut off by his own guttural moan. Soap’s fist worked in tandem with his mouth, moving them at a decently fast pace, but his speed kept increasing as his carnal urges enveloped him. He was wavering, and both Soap and Ghost felt themselves getting close.
“Fuck, fuck- slow down, slow down.”
Ghost arched his back at the stimulation before taking the fingers in Soap’s hair and tightening his grip. He used the hold he had on him to control the speed, and Ghost let out a shaky breath as Soap’s responding whines and whimpers were muffled by his cock. He wanted to draw this out as long as possible. Soap adjusted to the new pace, but in making sure he was following it, he broke eye contact for a good bit. As Ghost observed this, he craned his hand down and wrapped it around Soap’s jaw firmly. He leaned his head down to grab his attention before he spoke.
“Look at me, look at me,” Ghost spoke through his pants.
Soap felt a chill run down his spine trying and failing to resist speeding up to accommodate for the arousal he was just filled with. He was absolutely drunk on Ghost. The following look that Soap gave Ghost was so unintentionally provocative that Ghost’s body jerked and quivered. It pushed him to the fringes of his euphoria.
“ngh, fuck, Johnny-”
Ghost was interrupted once again, this time by his climax. He let out a long deep grunt as his legs shook, and the following breaths were heavy. Soap let out a small noise in surprise as his throat was painted with Ghost, but the noise quickly turned into one of satisfaction. He swallowed and continued working himself on Ghost. Ghost’s peak combined with the intoxicating noises he made pushed Soap closer to his own edge. As he used his throat to help Ghost ride out his high, he pumped himself harder and harder until he came too. He moaned on Ghost’s dick as he stained the lower half and cuff of one of Ghost’s pant legs.
Ghost then pulled himself out of Soap’s gullet, moving his hand back to Soap’s face and grasping it firmly, forcing their gazes to meet. Soap was panting, swallowing amidst his heaving breaths as he stared, completely infatuated with the man holding him. Ghost slid his thumb into Soap’s mouth right beside the remnants of himself and spit that between his teeth.
“I’m not fucking done with you yet, MacTavish.”
Using the hold he still had on Soap, Ghost dragged the man to stand with him. He took another hand and slid it down to Soap’s hip before pivoting his body and shoving him against the desk. Ghost made his way behind Soap, then slithered the hand on Soap’s face down to the throat mic he donned on his throat, shoving two fingers in the space between the fabric and his neck. Ghost pulled on the collar once, yanking Soap into him. Soap chuckled.
“Feisty. How long ‘ave you been wanting to do this, Lt.?”
“Too fucking long,” Ghost breathed. “Let’s get you warmed up, shall we?”
Ghost took two of his fingers and swiftly shoved them up inside of Soap, curling them. Soap leaned forward with a shocked cry, throwing his hands on the desk to balance himself. As Ghost started pumping his fingers in and out of his ass, Soap shifted the weight on the heels of his palms, then said some jargon of Scottish that Ghost couldn’t understand in the slightest.
Soap continued with his vocal tendencies, and a few more whimpers escaped him before Ghost’s impatience devoured him. He took his cock and teased the entrance with his tip before gradually inserting himself. Soap lurched forwards again, and Ghost let out a heavy sigh as he slowly fit the entire length up him.
“Fuck,” he groaned.
Ghost started grinding, and as much as he wanted to control himself, he was running into the same problem Soap was. He tried to start gradually, but every part of Soap felt so incredible and freeing that his pace became fast and hard, making Soap continuously pushed forward with momentum. An abundance of swears and derogatory Scottish phrases left Soap each time he fell back onto Ghost’s cock, along with loads of whimpers and moans that engrossed Ghost.
“Simon…” Soap mumbled, leaning onto his forearm for more support. Ghost was a little surprised at the name, he’d rarely heard it lately. He was even more to feel a strange sort of satisfaction with it; most likely due to the fact that he was able to hear it spill so sensually from the lips of the man he coveted. Ghost then pulled Soap closer to him with the makeshift collar to whisper in his ear as Soap let out some more shameless cries of pleasure.
“You’re taking me so well, makes me wonder if you slut yourself out for the others on the base like this.”
Soap was gasping, and before he could answer Ghost thrust into him roughly, hitting his G-spot and evoking an ardent sob instead. Ghost began quickening his pace, feeling himself be brought back to the fringes of euphoria once again with each and every thrust and noise from Soap.
As Ghost continued brashly, he was driving himself into Soap so hard that Soap’s hold on the desk fell. As Soap slipped, his arms slid forward along with the upper half of his body, and Soap was now bent over the desk. Ghost’s hand still held Soap’s collar so Soap’s head and neck were strained backward with the new position. Ghost let out another throaty groan at the change before shoving his entirety in Soap and leaning into the crook of his neck to whisper.
“Asked you a question earlier. Are you a whore, or are you mine?”
“Fuck-, yours, Ghost, all yours.”
“That’s fucking right. My whore. Good boy,” Ghost purred.
Soap whimpered at the praise, and as Ghost pulled back, he moved the hand by his Soap’s down to his shoulder and used the new grip to grind into him harder. Ghost shuddered as he pumped a few more times, and felt his heartbeat and breathing speed up. He arched his back and his legs shook as he came once again, and Soap gasped as he felt his insides be filled with a shaky exhale.
Soap was close to his release too, and it was furthered by Ghost riding out his climax. Ghost wrapped his hand under the bent-over Soap and caressed his cock, bucking his hips in conjunction with the speed at which he jerked him off.
“Oh fuck- Ghost, I’m-”
“Hermanos,” Alejandro spoke over the static.
Both of them immediately froze in place. Soap’s face dropped and Ghost just stared forward in disbelief. This couldn’t be happening. But it was, because Alejandro continued.
“Next time… recuerde a chequear sus micrófonos. Rudy’s on the way.”
The heavy gasps and pants from the men filled the silence of the room. While Ghost had Soap bent over and pulled back by the throat, his finger must’ve grazed or held the button enough for Rudy and Alejandro to hear.
“No fucking way,” Soap said.
“Goddamnit.”
“How the-“
“Let’s… Let’s just get a move on,” Ghost grumbled. Ghost pulled himself out of Soap with a slick wet sound, leaving Soap whining at the cessation. The two of them both gathered their things and cleaned themselves up in hurried silence. After Soap did so, he clicked a couple of times on the computer to pull up what he was looking at earlier then left the room.
Before Ghost left, his eyes flitted to the monitor Soap was fiddling with out of curiosity. It was open to a search engine, and the words “Conejo drugas” were typed into it. Ghost skimmed quickly, but caught sight of one automatically emboldened word: afrodisíaco. Soap had known. Ghost slammed his hands on the desk in frustration before pursuing Soap. Once he caught sight of him, he stomped over, putting a hand on Soap’s shoulder to pivot him, and once he faced him he lifted him up by the collar of his shirt.
“You little shit.”
Panic flashed through Soap’s eyes before he made the realization, but once he did, a sly look replaced it.
“Knowing wouldn’ta changed a thing. Hate me all you want, you can’t say you didn’t enjoy it.”
Soap pushed himself away from his captor and Ghost reluctantly dropped him. As Soap made his way down the stairs, Ghost stilled, motionless in irritation. Enjoyed was an understatement.
Soap made his way to the exit, then peered back up at the motionless Ghost. He held open the door they came through with his hand before gesturing outside.
“Let’s not keep Rudy waiting,” Soap called.
The two made their way outside and waited. Ghost willed himself back to his trademark impassive attitude while Soap struggled to keep himself from beaming. They watched in silence as Rudy’s car neared, but Soap suddenly moved his hand to fondle Ghost’s ass. Ghost jolted and craned his head down to glare at Soap.
“All’s well that ends well,” Soap hummed. Ghost’s jaggedness quickly morphed into vexed confusion.
“How the hell can this end well?”
Soap grinned.
“Round two. Or are you gonna leave me high and dry?”
“If your cheeky ass keeps pestering me, the latter.”
“You know you love me.”
They piled into the car with Ghost taking shotgun. Rudy side-eyed Soap and gave Ghost a knowing glance. To his dismay, his mouth ran faster than his mind at this moment, and he let out a quip before he could stop himself.
“More than hermanos, eh?”
Ghost turned his head to Rudy, giving him a look of pure and utter malice. If he said anything else, he was dead. Rudy’s face dropped, and he sat there in terror. He didn’t know if holding or ending the eye contact was worse. A silence hung between them as Soap giddily looked on from the backseat, eyes shifting back and forth from each man to see who would break first.
“Drive,” Ghost eventually ordered.
Rudy nodded and floored it, averting his eyes and looking dead ahead for the rest of the ride. The three of them were trapped with each other, and Soap had to stifle his laughter. There was no way any of them could have expected the events to unfold the way they did. Soap littered in a few coughs within the silence. He wanted to lighten up the mood, and even though Soap thought there was never a bad time for jokes, he could tell this was one of them. A few minutes passed, and Soap suddenly furrowed his brow grabbing Rudy’s shoulder and shoving it playfully.
“I’ll admit, while that may have been uncouth, don’t act like you and Alej-”
“Cállate.”