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He looks ethereal, basking in the low moonlight seeping through the drawn window blinds. Shoulders rolling back as he gasps out, hands bracing Ghost’s upper thighs, eyes closed and head tilting back. It gives Ghost an unobstructed view of the body on top of him. His hips making slow and measured movements up and down, beautiful pink cock bounding uselessly with the motion. He takes in the wide shoulders, the sculpted chest that leads down to the plush love handles (currently living up to their name), and the freckles that encompass the whole body. This is his Johnny. For the night he is not a soldier, just Johnny.
The spiraling thought of possession makes Ghost tighten his hands around Soap’s waist, he feels the powerful muscle moving underneath the skin. It draws a groan out of the Scot on top, his slow pace stuttering. Soap’s head rolls forward to look at the man below him. Leaning in, his hand coming up to support himself on Ghost’s chest. A blissed out look in his eyes and sweat slick hair sticking to his neck and forehead only adding to the beauty of the moment.
“Fuck Si,” Soap growls out, “Gonna make me do all the work.” The low draw of his voice and slightly slurred words sends Ghost to snap his hips to meet the downward motion of Soap’s thrust. The Scot lets out a louder moan, head dropping down between his shoulders. Ghost gives another thrust up to hear the clap of skin on skin, feeling the jiggle of Soap’s ass and upper thighs above him. A grunts meets his efforts before he slows down again to let Soap take control again. A frustrating sign leaves the other man as he meets Ghost's calm gaze and picks up the same roll of his hips that he had before.
“I thought this was my reward,” Ghost quips, “let me enjoy the view.” He lets his hands trail up to feel the flutter on Johnny's sensitive sides. Unable to resist the need, Ghost plucks and pulls Soap’s nipple piercings. It brings the blush of Soap’s cheeks down to his chest and a furrowing of his eyebrows. Still wanting more of a reaction, Ghost slips his hands back down, taking Soap’s neglected cock into his tight grip. Flush and leaking precum like a faucet, he gives a cruel squeeze, earring a yelp and his hole fluttering around Ghost’s prick.
“Si,” Soap lets out another low groan accompanied by a roll of his hips. He leans further on his hands letting his thighs carry on their slow rolls. He looks pleadingly up at Ghost, eyes brimming with unshed tears, lips bitten pink, checks flush- how can Simon deny such a pretty boy.
“You’re doing such a good job,” He praises, slicking his hand up and down in time with Soap’s movements. Johnny brings his head down to meet Ghost in a sloppy kiss, messy with spit and more teeth than anything- it's perfect. Pulling back, Johnny’s eyes are blown, black pupils only leaving a sliver of blue visible. Ghost brings his other hand down to caress over the quivering muscles of the Scot’s thigh. He takes his time, working more slick out of the prick, taking in the image that Soap makes- his own pleasure taking a back seat to watch Johnny squirm on top of him.
“Need more,” Johnny pleads, grinding down on Ghost’s dick. Licking up Soap’s neck, Ghost heaves a sign- feigning indifference. Soap pleads again, hands becoming claws as they dig into the meat of his pecks. Though desperation does look good on Johnny, he wants to see him fall apart. Needing to see his Johnny become undone for him and only him. Giving one final squeeze to his prick, Ghost brings both hands to brace on the plush love handle.
“Such a good boy, brace yourself on my shoulders,” Ghost growls low, bending his knees under him to get more leverage. Not waiting for Johnny to do as instructed he thrust up and pushes down Johnny’s hips at the same time. It drives the unprepared man forward with a cry, finally collapsing onto his forearms and setting his head into the alcove of Ghost’s neck.
Wrapping his hands tighter into Soap’s flesh, Ghost sets a relentless pace- hitting deep into the scot. Teeth sinking into his neck, Soap can only hold on and drag his nails into the meat of Ghost’s shoulders. The only noise being the slap of skin on skin and the low groans coming from both men.
Ghost feels the flutter of the heated walls surrounding his cock knowing that Johnny is getting closer. He continues his relentless pace, hitting Soap’s prostate head on with every upward thrust. Musk and the inherent scent of desperation invading all of his sensing Ghost lets his base instincts take control, flipping Johnny over onto his back in one fluid movement. Not breaking rhythm he drives further, spurred on by the soft moans and incoherent pleas of the other man.
Ghost brings one of his hands up to cradle the back of Johnny’s head. Grabbing a fistful of hair he pries the man from his neck to bring him into a crashing kiss. Debauched and flush with arousal Johnny can only paw at the man on top of him now. Soap brings his heels into the small of Ghost back keeping his thrust short and powerful. The glory of him spurs Ghost further into lust, unable to look away from the beauty below him.
“Come on baby boy, you can do it,” Ghost taunts, sensing Soap being close to the edge, “Give it to me.”
“Aye,” the Scot stutters out, hand traveling down to fist his cock uncoordinated and fast. Ghost keeps his gaze on his face, watching with devotion that can only be described as holy. His thrusts get more erratic, signaling his own impending climax.
With one final harsh thrust Ghost watches as his Johnny finally becomes unmade, like the recoil of a rifle he cries out. Cum spurting onto both his stomach and chest, Johnny throws his head back exposing his neck to Ghost. His hole tensing tight around Ghost, who in turn tumbles over the edge himself. An animalistic growl rips from his throat as he buries himself to the hilt- flexing like a taunt bow before bowing to gravity and coming inside Johnny. Finally succumbing to the need to mark Johnny as his, he clamps his jaw around the junction of Soap's exposed neck. Soap’s hands come up and gently caresses the back of Ghost’s head, feeling the short blonde hair between his fingers. He lets the man ride out the excessive energy of his orgasm, slowly stroking the sweat soak curls silently.
Basking in the afterglow, Johnny lets Simon rest on top of him, uncaring of the weight of the bulky man. In turn Simon releases his jaw from Johnny’s neck, pulling back to get a better look at the mark. He kisses the reddened bite in an attempt to apologize without having to voice it.
Licking over the expanse of Johnny’s collar bone before pulling back slightly, Ghost is drawn into the soft look in Johnny’s eyes. Eyes no longer glittering with tears and mouth turning up in a soft smile, Johnny brings his hands around to cup Ghost’s cheeks. It takes a moment for Simon to realize Johnny is tracing over his Glasgow smile with soft hands, gentle and caring. Mapping over his broken nose, lightly tapping at the mole that sits below Simon’s right eye. The adoration clear in his eyes brings Simon up to claim his lips in a soft chaste kiss. They lay gentle and quiet trading tender kisses. They let the sweat cool and become clampy between their joined, overheated bodies- neither wanting to break the silence, delicate with unsaid words.
Escaping the gravitational pull of Johnny, with a monumental effort, Simon sits up on his heels. He takes in the man below him again, letting his hands follow his eyes, categorizing every freckle and scar. Taking care he lightly passes over the healed bullet wound from Los Alamos, falling down once again to kiss over it. He soothes over the forming bruises on Johnny hip, slowing to unhook the Scots legs from behind him.
Simon hasn’t set foot in a holy place with the intent to worship since long before Ghost came around, but seeing the debauched man below him, he wishes to recall how to praise a God. How to devote himself to the cause of John MacTavish- wholly and all encompassing.
Gently as possible Simon slips his now flaccid cock out of Johnny, earning a low groan from the other. He watches as his come trickles out of Soap’s puffy and abused hole, hand coming up to push the come back in. The Scot in turn closes his legs together gently signally he is still over sensitive, not off put Simon continues with their unsaid aftercare. Grabbing a towel whipping down Soap and then himself. After being toweled down, sheets changed, and balm applied to the bite on Johnny’s neck in the dream-like afterglow begins to make way for the rest of the world.
“Do ya think we’ll be ok,” Johnny asks quietly, like anything louder would shatter the room around them. Simon lay on his back with Johnny bullied into his side, head resting above his heart. Blinking at the ceiling, Ghost rolls the question around in his head for a moment. Tomorrow they are going to track down the Konni's black hat in their own backyard, hopefully securing intel to bring down Makarov. Ghost’s arm tightens around Johnny, bringing the man closer into his chest, the thought of Konni enough to take the quiet content in the room to destressing silence.
“Of course, I’ll have your six the whole time,” Slowly Ghost runs his hand along Soap’s back in an attempt to placate the scot. The response sets a huff from the man, letting his head nuzzle into the junction between Simon’s shoulder and neck.
“Aye,” Johnny breathes out tenderly, letting a gentle kiss land on Simon’s collar before finally drifting off to sleep. Sensing the other man's drift into unconscious Simon zones out on the other's soft snoring, letting his mind wander.
Johnny has pulled a dead man from an unmarked grave in Mexico through stubborn, bullheaded efforts to make a friend of a teammate. Though they started their more carnal relationship on the side of a dirt road outside of Los Alamos, high on adrenaline and in need of an outlet, it quickly morphed into something softer around the edges. Quick fucks in the hangers after missions turned into slow love making in Soap’s flat off base. Simon doesn’t know when but somehow the loud stubborn man currently asleep on his shoulder slid into his heart. Ripped open his chest unknowingly and took a knife to engrave his name upon Simon’s soul alight- and Simon let him. Like breathing Simon has let Johnny in.
Drifting off, Simon’s last thoughts are invaded by Johnny, simply existing in his space.
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“Johnny,” The word rips out of his lips as Ghost kneels over the other man.
No no no no
Gaz and Price work on the mission but Ghost can’t bring himself to move from Johnny. So still, unmoving in a pool of red. Medical training kicks in as he moves to assess the damage. Once again Ghost finds himself praying to a God he is unsure of even exists. Praying to find a pulse, feel an exhale, feel some sign of life.
Gods above please not him.
Mind numb as he moves to roll Johnny over a check for something, he feels it- faint but there. A murmur of a heartbeat. He lets out a strangle shout, unable to control the pure base instinct of his mind chanting alive alive alive.
The shout draws the attention of Gaz and Price who are currently in the middle of calling up a KIA to Laswell. Gaz’s eyes go wide as he rushes to kneel on the other side of Soap's body. He presses his face close to Soap’s mouth, feeling for a huff of breath from the downed man.
“Cap, he’s alive,” Gaz shouts, cutting off Price’s recap to Laswell, “We need a medevac now, he’s critical.” Ghost confirms, unable to get the words out. Gaz looks back to Ghost nodding slightly as they both work to provide combat care before the medevac arrives.
Everything between packing Soap’s leg wound to the medical crew arriving is a blur to Simon. Price holds Ghost back as they lift Johnny onto a medical litter and out of view. The adrenaline crash catches Ghost shortly after, shaking still from the mission to the final moments. He was supposed to keep Johnny safe- watch his six. Price and Gaz are still talking but Ghost can’t hear them- vision blurry and black spots encroaching. He feels his knees buckle under him, kneepads breaking his fall as the world goes black.