Chapter Text
Soap was pretty sure he and the other handful of new inmates weren’t supposed to get to prison so late. They were being prodded quickly through processing, all their “orientation” seemed rushed through, and then they were quickly pushed toward their cells. According to the CO guiding them, it was close to light’s out already by that time.
Soap was pushed to his cell with his bundle of things very last. He was taken further than the others too, to the very end of the last hallway. He wondered if he was shoved in a corner purposely or if it was random. The CO pushed his upper back, sending him stumbling into the cell.
It was a cell alright. Bunk beds, toilet, sink, table, chair, cupboards, tv, kettle. Pretty standard as Soap understood it, but it was also an occupied cell. Soap’s bunkmate was laying on the top bunk with a book in his face. He looked a little bulky in his blue prison issued uniform from where Soap was standing.
“Congrats on your roommate,” the CO called out to the man, clearly amused, “Try to play nice with the fresh fish, Ghost.”
“Fuck yourself, Roberts,” Ghost answered in a slightly muffled, gravelly voice.
Soap eyebrows rose in surprise at the blatant disrespect, but Roberts just laughed.
“Good luck, fish,” he told Soap before moving on.
Soap grunted and stepped further into the room. He put his bundle of things in an empty spot in the cupboards and then shuffled to his bed to untuck the sheets already on it.
The top bunk squeaked as Ghost moved.
“Incomin’,” he grunted.
Soap moved aside as Ghost’s feet swung over the edge of the bunk. Ghost dropped to the floor surprisingly quiet for such a large man. He was half a head taller than Soap and about as broad. He somehow seemed even larger than he was as he turned toward Soap, practically looming creepily over him like his namesake. He was a dirty blonde with brown eyes, but that was about all Soap could really tell with a black mask covering from below his eyes to his neck.
“Bloody hell,” the man said, eyes narrowing at Soap a little, “Lookit you.”
Soap grunted in confusion, touching his face to check for blood.
“What’s wrong with me?” He wondered.
“You’re way too pretty,” Ghost answered.
Soap blushed, eyes widening in surprise and Ghost’s tongue clicked as he shook his head.
“Cute pink too,” he commented as he moved around Soap, very obviously checking out his ass, “Not a bad arse either. They’re gonna eat you alive, fish.”
Soap turned to face him again, face burning hotter. Ghost was implying he would get sexually assaulted by someone.
“Who’s gonna eat me?” He prompted.
“75% of gen pop,” Ghost answered blandly, “Maybe 60, you’re big enough to deter some of ‘em.”
Soap was a bit stunned as Ghost moved on toward the toilet.
“What-I can handle myself against aboot anyone,” he protested defensively as Ghost braced his hand on the wall.
“You think they’re gonna come at you one at a time?” Ghost scoffed as fabric shifted.
Soap turned partially away at the splash of piss hitting metal.
“Besides, you get in fights, you get in the hole,” Ghost added, “Don’t matter if you’re defendin’ yourself.”
He had a point and Soap did not like it one bit. This would be getting into trouble which he could not do.
“What am I supposed to do then?” He wondered.
“Petroleum jelly in the canteen,” Ghost answered, “Play with your hole often, keep it loose ‘n pliable. It’ll hurt less.”
Okay, now Soap was stunned. He couldn’t believe the man just said that like that. Steamin’ Jesus. Ghost finished and flushed, then moved toward the sink.
“Throat lozenges too,” he suggested as he washed his hands, “And careful with your teeth, they’ll just break them if they have to.”
“I meant how do I stop them from attackin’ me in the first place,” Soap grumbled.
Ghost snorted as he turned, drying his hands on the towel beside the sink.
“You don’t, lad,” he scoffed, “You either fight an’ get used to the hole or you don’t and get used to bein’ on your belly an’ your knees.”
He headed toward the still open cell door, but Soap grabbed his wrist to stop him. He turned around slowly, eyes staring blankly down at Soap and he seemed to exude a very threatening aura. He was clearly a dangerous man who could fight. Soap quickly pulled his hand away, putting it up in surrender.
“Surely you have better advice than that?” He insisted.
“Seein’ as I’ve never been targeted myself, no, not really,” Ghost answered.
“Ah…right,” Soap grunted.
Ghost turned back toward the door and headed out of it.
“Int it lights oot soon?” Soap called after him.
“Worry about your own arse, fish,” Ghost called back.
Soap snorted. Then he slipped out of his shoes and climbed into bed. Ghost returned right before the cell door slammed shut and the lights went out. He stumbled next to the bunk.
“Put your fuckin’ shoes under the bed, you bloody pillock,” he grumbled, “Goin’ up.”
“Sorry,” Soap grunted.
He leaned over to shove his shoes under the bed while Ghost climbed up top. He settled down above and Soap tried to sleep below, but ended up awake for a while, thinking about his situation.
Ghost was probably exaggerating. Soap would probably have to worry more about people picking fights than trying to fuck him, surely. Although he’d had to fend off unwelcome advances before and he would probably have to do so here, he really doubted it would be that bad. 60%? No way.
What he really wanted to know was why his bunkmate was so fucking weird. Talking like that, so blunt and crass with no regard for how rude he was being. And what was with the mask? Most people had stopped wearing masks when COVID died down. Was he still paranoid about it or something? Maybe he was just ugly. His eyes were pretty, but his face could be the wrong end of a goat for all Soap knew.
He wasn’t sure he should bother asking, despite his curiosity. Ghost didn’t exactly seem the most friendly. Although maybe his “warning” was him being friendly and he was just that weird. Probably not though, considering that anger he exuded when Soap touched him. The man seemed dangerous.
Soap rolled over and sighed. Didn’t really matter, did it? None of this truly mattered. He just needed to keep his head down and stay out of trouble and he’d be out before he knew it. Hopefully. Then again, he was pretty well known for attracting lots of trouble and starting too much shit. He reminded himself as he closed his eyes that he needed to behave as well as he could.
~
Ghost was right and Soap was doomed from the start. At least 60% of gen pop had their eyes on him immediately. Beyond the usual sizing up. They were staring and whispering almost as soon as he stepped into the mess for lunch. He was really just excelling at not drawing attention to himself. In fairness to him, he wasn’t doing anything but existing. These poor bastards just hadn’t seen anyone fresh and cute for awhile.
He got his tray and carefully scanned over the mess for a place to sit as he stepped toward the tables. There were plenty of people who looked friendly toward him. Entirely too friendly. His eyes found Ghost in a corner exuding “fuck off” vibes and he latched on immediately. Someone who wasn’t friendly was perfect to sit beside. He headed that direction only to be intercepted by a tall brunette.
“Why don’t you sit with me, Blue?” He suggested, winking.
“No, thank you,” Soap dismissed, “I’m goin’ to sit with my cellmate.”
He gestured toward Ghost which had the brunette turn to see and Soap side-stepped him to continue on his way. A new wave of whispers went around where the man had stopped him as people likely gossiped about who his cellie was.
Ghost looked less than thrilled when Soap sat a few seats down from him.
“Don’t worry, I won’t talk and I won’t look,” Soap assured.
Ghost grunted in response and they ate lunch in silence while Soap ignored the eyes openly ogling him. After lunch he was allowed in the yard and he used the time to exercise, the bulk of it amounting to walking the track. If the dirt circle could be considered a track. He also didn’t run even though he wanted to, because that would mean more sweat which would mean a shower would be necessary quicker. It was obvious now he was going to have to be careful about that.
Three very friendly fellows greeted him individually at this time, clearly testing the waters. He grunted when they greeted him and didn’t much engage with them. He knew it was possible being his friendly, chattering self might help, but he also knew that would just welcome more attention. Besides, better to be clear that he was not interested than to give anyone the wrong idea.
Eventually he went back inside and milled around the rec room and the common area. There were more friendly faces that he was decidedly unfriendly toward. After rec time was more work time which he still went to his cell for. Then there was dinner and collecting breakfast for tomorrow. He and Ghost ended up walking together incidentally to drop their breakfast off. Then Ghost disappeared for a bit while Soap stayed in their cell until lights out when Ghost slipped back in.
It was routine and Soap didn’t mind routine in the slightest, probably all the military training. The next two days passed like this with more and more friendly people getting closer and more daring. A few of them actually outright propositioned him. Someone very large suggested he ought to be his exclusively and Soap politely declined.
He noticed something in those three days though. Any time he was with Ghost or in their cell, no one bothered him. In fact he once saw someone quickly correct course when they saw he was walking with Ghost. People were afraid of Ghost. So logically, Soap started to spend more time with him the next day.
Ghost spent rec time working out in the yard, but he also played chess with himself or read in a corner afterwards. He glared at Soap when he joined him for these things, but didn’t complain just yet. After dinner though, he crowded into Soap’s space, pinning him against the frame of their bunk bed with only his presence and forcing him to tilt his head up to look at him.
“Listen here, you dodgy little blighter,” he growled, gaze hot, “I don’t do shite for free. If you’re gonna use me as a shield, drawin’ a bloody target on my back, you’d better fuckin’ pay me for it.”
“I…don’t have any money,” Soap admitted, “What can I give you?”
Ghost just looked at him a moment, his glare softening a little, but his gaze remaining fire-hot. He leaned in and braced a hand on the frame of the bunk by Soap’s head. Soap felt caged in, felt a shiver in his spine despite Ghost’s body heat radiating over him.
“What can you give me?” Ghost repeated, voice somehow even lower and rougher, “What do you think, pretty boy?”
Soap blushed, eyes darting away, but he considered it. Fucking one very large, very mean man was better than 60% of the population seeing him as a free meal. Maybe he’d even blend into the background if he kept occupying the darkest corners with Ghost. He looked back up at the man.
“Okay,” he agreed, “I’ll fuck you if you protect me.”
Ghost’s eyebrows lifted slightly and his eyes slid down to Soap’s mouth.
“On your knees then,” he ordered, shifting back a little to give him room.
Soap sank to his knees and immediately tugged on Ghost’s waistbands to pull them down.
“Know what you’re doin’ down there?” Ghost asked, “Or I gotta teach you?”
“I know what I’m doin’,” Soap assured, tucking Ghost’s trousers and underwear under his cock.
“Might’ve known,” Ghost snorted as Soap licked his hand and wrapped it around him.
Soap rolled his eyes and focused on pulling his cock to full hardness. It was a decent size, nothing too intimidating and he didn’t really smell, only slightly sweaty. Soap could’ve found worse people to suck off. When Ghost was half-hard, he leaned forward to wrap his lips around him, swirling his tongue around the head of his cock. Ghost grunted and his hand landed heavy on the crown of Soap’s head as he hardened quicker in his mouth.
Soap pushed forward, taking more of his cock into his mouth until he reached where his hand gripped the base of it. He pulled his hand away to keep going and choked as Ghost’s cock hit the back of his throat. Ghost twitched against him and he swallowed before he kept going, stuffing the last little bit down his throat. He paused to adjust and Ghost moaned suddenly, startling him. He hadn’t considered the man capable of such noises.
“Fuck, that’s good,” he whispered.
Soap felt heat rise inside him. Ghost sounded good like this. His rough voice a rasp in Soap’s ears, moans like low music notes. Most of all, he actually sounded relatively normal like this. Very human as opposed to the cloud of danger and rudeness in human shape he seemed to be most of the time. And Soap felt like he was getting something no one else did. Like he was special. Focus, MacTavish, he chided himself.
He pulled back, sucking in a little and Ghost twitched, his fingers pressing harder to Soap’s skull. He didn’t push, nor did he grip what little hair Soap had, letting Soap maintain most of the control, but it felt like he didn’t intend to let Soap get far. Another flush of heat rose in Soap that he ignored as he rubbed his tongue up against the slit of his cock before pushing forward again.
He pulled back and forth, stuffing Ghost’s cock in his throat several times before Ghost’s hips jerked a little impatiently, clearly wanting Soap to move faster. He didn’t apologize for it, but his thighs tensed under Soap’s palms like he was making sure he didn’t do it again. Soap wrapped his hand back around him and started moving properly. Ghost groaned again, almost hoarsely this time as Soap’s mouth and hand moved quick and incredibly slick on his cock.
“Fuck…yeah, that’s it,” he murmured, “Just like that, pretty boy. God, you really do know what you’re doin’.”
Soap thrilled a little at the praise, but ignored it, focused on moving quicker and firming his grip. He went a little dazed, a bit mindless as he moved back and forth, back and forth. The daze added to the weight of Ghost in his mouth, the dull ache in his jaw, and the soundtrack of Ghost’s low moans made the experience actually sort of pleasant.
“‘M, fuck, ‘m gonna come,” Ghost grunted breathlessly, tapping Soap’s head in warning.
Soap woke up a little, but didn’t particularly change anything he was doing and a few seconds later, Ghost twitched and groaned as he came in his mouth and throat. Soap stopped moving his head, but only slowed his hand to coax out all Ghost had while swallowing it all down. It was the same thick, salty gross taste most people’s come was. He pulled back and let go when he had everything, wiping his saliva-covered mouth as he looked up at Ghost for approval.
Ghost stared at him a second, just catching his breath, before lifting his hand and patting the top of his head.
“That’ll do,” he grunted.
Soap blushed a little while Ghost stepped back, tucking his cock away.
“Wash up,” he suggested, jerking his chin at the sink, “Then I’ll take you for a smoke.”
That sounded so much like taking Soap out like he was a dog that Soap rolled his eyes as he stood. He washed his hands and brushed his teeth before following Ghost out of the cell. Ghost led him to the designated smoking area, past at least a dozen other prisoners to the furthest, darkest corner.
Then he pulled out a cigarette and put a book of matches in Soap’s hand. He pulled the mask, Velcro ripping open and let it hang on one side, revealing a mess of scars over the corner of his lips and across his cheek and jaw on the side facing the wall. Soap was pretty sure it was all from an explosive and shrapnel. It looked pretty gnarly, but didn’t really detract from the fact Ghost was attractive. He had a long, crooked nose and a killer sharp jawline covered in a little blonde scruff. Real ruggedly handsome vibe. Fuck, he’s hot, Soap thought miserably.
Ghost put the cigarette between his pretty, uneven lips as he leaned forward a little and Soap took the hint, lighting his cigarette for him. Although he thought it was a bit rude. Didn’t Ghost have his own hands?
“Don’t look so miffed,” Ghost snorted as he leaned his shoulder against the wall and blew smoke to the side, “We just told a dozen people I own you now.”
“You do not,” Soap couldn’t help but protest.
“So you want 60% of the population to tear up your cute little arse?” Ghost countered.
“No,” Soap answered moodily.
“Then do you wanna be my protected bitch or not?” Ghost pressed.
Soap huffed, hand tightening on the matches. What a prick.
“I do,” he grumbled.
“Now a dozen people will tell two dozen who will tell four,” Ghost explained, “By tomorrow, everyone will be stiflin’ how often they even look at what belongs to an infamous assassin.”
“If you’re an assassin, why aren’t you in a higher security prison?” Soap wondered.
“There’s no evidence,” Ghost admitted, “The only legitimate crime they’ve got me on is burglary. Everyone believes it though, that’s what matters.”
“Fair enough,” Soap agreed, shrugging, “What else do I have to do now?”
“Eager, aren’t you?” Ghost teased, his lips pulling up on the scarred side and eyes dancing in amusement.
“To not get devoured?” Soap countered dryly, “Aye, I’m eager for that.”
Ghost laughed a little, a light husky sort of chuckle.
“Don’t worry ‘bout it, pretty boy,” he mused, “I’ll tell you when to do what. Right now just keep stickin’ to me.”
“Roger that,” Soap grunted as he leaned against the wall.
He did a subtle sweep of the area to find people trying to eye him and Ghost a lot less subtly. The particular ogling he had been dealing with was gone though. From these few at least. No keen eyes. It was already working.
He looked back at Ghost who was watching him with a curious sort of look on his face as he smoked. Maybe he should be afraid of the lesser evil that could quell the desires of 60% of the prison, but he really couldn’t be fucked to worry. He cast his eyes up and out over the rooftops to the sky. He had plenty of other things to worry over.