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“You want us to do what?” Soap asked, trying to keep some amount of respect in his voice. Ghost, on the other hand, had gone dead silent next to him.
Price sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Look, Sergeant MacTavish. It’s not exactly like I want to send you two right to the Russians. But we need the intelligence, and no one else is exactly available at the moment. You two are the only ones here, and, as such, your sorry asses get to be the ones to go.”
Soap nodded, face pinched in worry, “I get that, Captain. But how exactly are we going to walk in there without getting spotted? You said it was- what? A dinner party?”
Price nodded and opened the mission file in his hand, flipping to a page and reading off of it.
“Yeah, a Lieutenant General by the name of Tyoma Vasiliev, is going to be having a dinner party with all his higher ranking subordinates to celebrate their latest win of capturing some cadets. We don’t have much reason to believe that they are trying to get any information from them, as they are lower ranking, but they are being held somewhere and we need to figure out where. Which, of course, is where you two come in.”
For the first time since the mission was dropped on them, Ghost spoke, “Soap’s face is too well known for us both to sneak into the party.”
Soap’s eyes widened, and he glanced between Price and Ghost. There was no way in hell Ghost would ever agree- how could Price even think to-
“I know it’s a big thing to ask of you, Ghost,” Price shifted on his feet, gently closing the file, “But we need to get our men back.”
Ghost nodded, “I know we do. How will we confirm that no one remembers my face?” Shoulders tensing and hands curling into fists.
Soap felt like he was going to pass out. He wanted to tell Price to call the whole thing off, they’d have to figure out another way. He and Ghost had gotten close over the past few months, friends. They knew each other well, bonding over past missions they had already gone on together. Soap, at the very least, trusted Ghost with his life. And he knew how important that mask was to Ghost. It was an odd sort of protectiveness, especially considering that Ghost was more or less built like a truck. But, it wasn’t hurting anybody, so Soap let the feelings linger.
“We’ve received notice from our long-term internal work that there won’t be any photographers. This isn’t a publicity party, it’s just a celebration. And, if we play our cards right, you will be able to get in and out. Your job, Ghost, will be to gather any word of mouth in case the papers Soap retrieves are decoys. Vasiliev is a paranoid old bugger, so I wouldn’t put it past him.”
Ghost nodded once, and hit Soap’s arm with his hand, which spurred Soap on.
“Alright, Captain. You can count on us.”
Which is how they ended up like this, Soap crawling through the long, winding halls of the Vasiliev mansion, while Ghost ran party detail. He could hear the party from downstairs, laughing and the clinking of cutlery on plates. The whole place was decorated exorbitantly, showy and decadent. Soap’s lip curled at yet another gaudy painting. He was paranoid, he felt like eyes were on his back constantly. He checked the small map he had of the layout of the house, verifying it by looking up, and then turning left. He wasn’t used to missions like these, the handgun he carried being his only safety line here.
They were thorough in their preparations for this. Ghost had taken on the identity of one Colonel Edik Kozlov. They apparently looked quite alike, and as long as Ghost acted as if he had lost his voice and could only speak small sentences, they could have passed as twins. Soap had forced himself to not look at any pictures of Kozlov during their preparations. It felt a bit like an invasion of privacy. Ghost only agreed to this on the condition that no pictures of his face would come from this, so to look at a picture of someone who apparently was damn near identical to him, well. It didn’t feel right. And he had only caught a glimpse of Ghost preparing himself as he left to begin his part of the mission, and his balaclava had still been on then.
He got a buzz on his walkie talkie, and he pressed the button to receive the call.
“Talk to me Soap, where are you?”
Soap forced himself to relax as Ghost’s voice flooded through the little speakers. It was fine, it was going to be okay. They’d get out of this alive.
“Just went down the final hall, the office should be at the end.” Soap whispered back, looking over his shoulder yet again. The house smelt of dinner downstairs and something thick and woodsy. It smelt like a home, but from their stakeouts earlier that week they had realized that this was more of a prop. No one lived in the house, and people only started leaving and entering as the preparations for the party.
“You remember what you’re looking for?”
“Yes, sir. The file we need will be in the second drawer on the left hand side, close to the front, and it’ll have the cadets' names on one of the papers.”
“What’s one of the names you’re looking for?”
“James Bailey.”
He heard Ghost shift and a door close, before he got a response, “Good. We’ll be done in no time.”
Soap hummed and reached for the office door, carefully twisting the knob and pushing it open, careful to not let it hit the wall. The room was covered in dark, rich looking wood as well as powder blue wallpaper. He slowly made his way towards the desk, holstering his gun as he opened the second drawer.
As he flicked through the files, he felt the need to make banter with his lieutenant rise in the center of his stomach, something to ease the anxiety that kept his shoulders bunched up.
“Was dinner any good?”
“It was alright. French,” A door opening and closing from Ghost’s side, then, “You in the office?”
“Yeah, I’m looking in the drawer right now.”
“I’m coming up.”
Soap breathed sharply and nodded to himself. He opened another file and flicked through it, before finding a page with English written on it. He gripped it tighter and leaned in, as if it held the very answers to the universe. He scanned over the initial bit of writing, and then scanned over the names. And lo and behold, there at the very top, was James Bailey. Soap laughed quietly and quickly put the file into his side bag.
“Johnny, find somewhere to hide.”
Soap’s stomach plummeted and he almost dropped his bag as he settled it back over his hip.
“Ghost what do you fucking mean ‘find somewhere to hide’?” He hissed, unholstering his hand gun and quickly doing a quick surveillance of the hallway in front of them.
“Vaziliev is inviting his buddies up to the upper floors for after dinner drinks. They’re going to pass by the office hallway.” Ghost replied back, the sound of his footsteps quick and light in the dress shoes he wore.
Soap cursed and held his gun down before quickly shuffling his way out of the office and to the end of the hallway. He looked back, and forth, before clicking his walkie talkie to call to Ghost again.
“Where are you right now, L.T.?”
“I’m in the west hallway, do you think you can make it there?”
Soap inhaled sharply, muttering out a yes and half-sprinted to the other side of the house. He just entered the west hallway before he found a closet and shoved himself inside. He tried to breath as quietly as he could as he stood up straight, holstering his gun and clicking to Ghost again.
“I don’t know where you are in the hall, but I’m in a closet near the doorway for it. Get yourself here and we can figure out how the hell we’re getting out of here.”
He didn’t get a response, but he heard the click ending the call from Ghost’s side, so clearly someone must have heard it. He just hoped it was his lieutenant and not a guard. Which, really, was highly unlikely because they hadn’t seen any guards enter the house. But there was never an absolute zero possibility of some coming in through the back way where they couldn’t see them enter.
He almost shouted as the closet door opened, adrenaline spiking and all his muscles readying for a fight. But the person who opened it quickly entered, back facing him, and shut the door. Soap swallowed roughly as he stared at the head of white-blond hair in front of him.
“That you, Ghost?” Soap asked, and he could sob with relief as he saw the head in front of him nod.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
Soap sighed and his whole body relaxed, his head falling forward against the taller man’s shoulder blade. He felt it shake a bit beneath his forehead and he smiled, eyebrow quirking up against the fabric of Ghost’s suit jacket. It was quiet, but the other man was laughing.
“You alright there, Sergeant?” Ghost asked, rough voice breathy, as if he’d been running.
Soap swallowed, it did something to him, Ghost’s voice. Made his neck hot and he had to fight to keep his blood in his head. If it were anyone else maybe he could have played it off, adrenaline, them pressing against him like that. But- Mary, mother of God - it was Ghost . Anyone would be helpless in this situation. Ghost, one of the best and most feared men of 141, in a suit, pressed up tight against you in a closet during a high adrenaline mission? He cleared his throat and carefully backed his hips up as much as he could, not wanting anything… Incriminating to give him away.
“Yeah, I’m alright, adrenaline’s just got me going haywire. What about you? You okay?” He hoped the crack in his voice wasn’t too noticeable.
Ghost hummed and shifted around a bit, clearly looking for something. Soap hoped whatever he was searching for was important because holy hell he was not making his current situation easy. His palms were clammy, and he tried to think of something, anything, other than Ghost’s fucking ass. Puppies. Paperwork. His Grandma. Anything.
He watched as Ghost finally found what he was looking for- his mask- and pulled it on over his head. Despite himself he was a little disappointed to see Ghost’s hair disappear, but it was for the best.
“You having a bit of a problem there, Soap?” Ghost asked, shifting his hips a bit to the left. Oh he knew what he was doing, the little shit.
Soap choked on spit and shrugged, glancing around nervously, “Sorry, sir. It’s, uh. It’s.” He sighed and shook his head, dragging a hand down his face, “It’s embarrassin’ is what it is. I’m sorry ‘bout this, sir.”
Ghost shrugged, clearly thinking something over his head. A fair bit of dread washed over Soap yet again as he watched him think. He was so dead when they got back to England. He was going to get strung up with the laundry, or maybe skinned alive. His hide nailed to the wall as a warning. Something like that, maybe worse.
Eventually Ghost sighed and leaned back a bit, clearly hesitant, “It’s not like we’re going anywhere for a while. Might as well set yourself right so you can think with the blood in the right head.”
Soap, chuckled nervously, hands flitting around the general area of Ghost’s waist as he tried to figure out what to do. Was he really offering to let Soap rut against him like a horny teenager at a party? This was- okay, no, Jesus, he didn’t know what to do. He knew he had some sort of feelings for the taller man, something tender in the center of his chest that made him ache. He couldn’t just- there was no way he’d get through this, with said feelings attached, and ever be able to act normally around his superior ever again. And outside of that, to even look at his friend the same way again.
“I don’t think this is- I-” He inhaled sharply and exhaled, hands still floating awkwardly, “Ghost, I don’t know if I’ll be able to be normal about this. I, well, I have some sort of feelings for you, admittedly.” He was so dead, “And I know I won’t be able to go back to whatever it is we are right now, colleagues, friends, so I can just think about my grandma for a while and then we can forget this ever happened, yeah?”
He felt more than heard Ghost’s sigh and he grabbed for Soap’s hands, slowly and gently guiding them to his waist. He could escape the grip if he wanted to it was so gentle. But still he let Ghost settle his hands on his waist and he could probably die a happy man like this.
“Johnny, I wouldn’t be offering if it didn’t interest me a little bit.” Ghost murmured, his hands still resting over Soap’s wrists, “I just-” A rough, nervous sigh, and Soap squeezed his hips to try and help him along, “I wasn’t exactly born a man. I am one, of course, but there was just, uh… A mix up, so to say, when I got put in my body. It’s fixed now, mostly. But the downstairs parts are still… Well, you know, it’s not like I dislike it , I’ve got the means to do something about it if it did bother me, but-”
Slowly Soap started to understand what Ghost meant, and he tightly wrapped his arms around him, tugging him back into a weird sort of hug. But it got Ghost to calm down, so he considered it a win. He gathered his thoughts, not wanting to misspeak, so to make the time passing by feel not so tense, he got his arms under Ghost’s suit jacket, feeling his warmth seeping through the button up he wore. Crisp and white.
“I could care less, L.T.,” He earned a huff of laughter for the title, “I’m just happy you, assumedly, from what you’ve said, feel about the same. I’m- I’m happy it’s you.”
Ghost nodded, shoulders slowly untensing, and Soap couldn’t help but smile into his clothed shoulder. He’d have to thank Price when they got back for sending them on this trip together. He was about to say some more silly, soft words, but was cut off with a groan as Ghost ground back into him, sending sparks of want up his spine.
“I suggest, MacTavish, if you want to take care of yourself, you use your time now.” Soap groaned and nodded. He took a tighter grip on Ghost’s hips and tugged him back against himself, and he smiled at the surprised little sound he got in response.
Soap held Ghost’s hip still as he tugged up the back of his mask, pressing kisses to the skin he could reach. He listened and watched Ghost melt, making breathy little sounds as he kissed at his neck. He sounded gorgeous, like this, in his arms. He could only imagine what he’d sound like when he could get him somewhere more comfortable, a bed, maybe. What he wouldn’t give to get his tongue on him. He let his thoughts drive him as he bucked against Ghost’s ass, pants painfully tight around his erection. He moved the hand holding up his mask to the front, feeling around before tugging it down a bit. He knew he covered his eyes, but it gave him more access to his neck and also his mouth.
He bit at the newly exposed skin and earned a gasping-moan, soft and quiet, and it made Soap twitch . He moaned at the limited, but frankly incredible, friction against his straining dick.
“Wanna take care of you too, sweetheart,” A little high-pitched whine, and oh , Soap never wanted to let him go, “Can I touch you?”
Ghost nodded, “Yeah, yeah you can. Fuck, please.”
Soap’s eyes went wide and wild at the neediness in Ghost’s voice, and it made him bite into the suit jacket to muffle a moan as he quickly went to undo his belt. He leaned further into Ghost, breath hot against the fabric in his mouth as he rutted against him like a dog. He nudged Ghost’s leg’s apart as he got his hands in his pants, untucking his shirt in the process as he ran a hand up to his chest and one down, cupping him through his boxers. He nearly fell to his knees when he felt how wet Ghost was, even through his briefs.
“Fuck, you needed this, didn’t you Ghost?” He murmured, stroking gently through the fabric separating his hand and the man’s core.
“Yes, god, needed it for so damn long !” The sound devolved into a moan as Soap pressed, close to the front.
Soap grinned, panting against Ghost’s back as he stroked over the wet spot. His imagination ran wild with what he wanted to do to this man. He’d give him anything he asked for, his mouth, his hand, his dick, anything. Soap pulled his hips back tighter against his erection and ground hard against his ass. He was carefully rubbing circles into the clothed nerves beneath his fingertips, and he felt some more of Ghost’s wetness seep out and over his hand.
“Can’t wait until we get somewhere with a bed, Ghost,” He muttered, back to kissing and biting at the bit of exposed neck he could reach, “Gonna make you cum so many times you forget your name. However you want it, I’ll give it to you. And you’re gonna be so good for me, aren’t ya, you sweet little thing? Gonna fuckin’ take it, like a good boy, yeah?”
He heard Ghost’s desperate moan and looked up in time to see him slap a hand over his mouth. If they weren’t currently hiding in some Russian general’s mansion, he’d pry that hand off and pin it down, so he could listen to all of the sounds he’d make. All the whiny, needy, desperate little noises he could possibly force out of his throat.
“You like that?” Soap asked, voice rough and accent thick, “You like that idea? Of you bein’ my good boy?”
Ghost nodded quickly, grinding down against the hand pressing against him. Soap, as painful as it was, dragged his hand away from Ghost’s underwear, earning a heartbreaking little whine, before shoving his way into his briefs. If they had more time he would’ve fucked him then and there, making him shake and come undone on his cock. But, they didn’t have time, and so he simply offered up his hand.
Slowly he sunk a finger into his slick hole, warm and inviting and god Soap was going to need at least a few days alone with him after this. He watched as Ghost fucked himself down on the single digit, hand not covering his mouth clawing at the wall in front of him. The muffled, pathetic little whining sounds almost enough to get Soap to cum in his pants, then and there. With their current position his mind drifted to bending Ghost over his desk and making him leak all over it. He shifted his hand so he could get his thumb on that hot little bundle of nerves and rubbed against it as best he could.
“Tell me what you want, Ghost,” Soap breathed out, feeling himself get closer and closer.
Ghost slowly removed his hand from his mouth, instead reaching down to hold onto Soap’s hand and manipulate it how he wanted, and fuck that was hot.
His voice was wrecked as he spoke, as if he had been getting fucked, “Want you to- oh god - to fuck me wherever we can manage. Shower, bed, couch, table, chair, fucking wherever.” Soap whimpered, thrusts getting erratic, “Want your fingers, too, want them whenever you can’t give me your cock. In my mouth, down there, wherever.” Soap pressed harder against Ghost just to watch his legs shake, “Want your fucking mouth, tongue, whatever. Want it on me, in me. I don’t care, Johnny, I just want you.”
Soap didn’t stand a chance. He let out a final, gasping half moan as he came in his pants. He felt like a teenager again, the feeling just barely not deathly embarrassing simply because of their current situation. His grip on Ghost’s hip impossibly tight, hips twitching with the orgasm. He felt weak in the legs, breathing shaky.
“Was that good, MacTavish?”
Soap rolled his eyes and nodded, muttering some sort of affirmative. He brought his now unoccupied hand to rub tight circles around Ghost while he worked a second finger into him. He watched his back bow with it, an odd sort of pride welling up inside of him. He’s the one who did that to him. Making him whine and whimper on his fingers, almost begging for it. He looked perfect like this. No tension from the war on his shoulders, just them.
“So good for me, Ghost,” Soap murmured, leaning over and licking at the fabric still covering his ear. Watching his open mouth gasp for air, “Such a good boy. You look so good like this, so needy for me. I’ll give you everything you want as soon as we can find somewhere to hole up for a few days, make you forget how to walk.”
Ghost gasped, chewing on his bottom lip. Soap could only begin to imagine what his mouth would look like, stretched wide and pretty. The thought was enough to make his cock twitch in his pants again.
“You’re so wet for me, sweetheart, dripping all over me. Does it feel good?” Ghost gasped in return, once again grabbing onto Soap’s wrist so he’d drag over that bundle of nerves just how he wanted it, “Oh I know it feels good. You’re shaking for it, so pent up. Making all these pretty sounds for me, too. I’m so lucky to get this, to have you like this, all for me.”
He crooked his fingers just so, and Ghost threw his head back. Soap licked at his top lip.
“Fuck, Soap, just like that, oh God, don’t you dare stop,” His voice desperate, growling the command, which might have been intimidating if he hadn’t immediately devolved into high, reedy whines.
Soap grinned, feeling the sweat drip down his back as he nodded, “Take it, Ghost. Take what you need, take it and come for me.”
He felt Ghost pulse around him as he came, head thrown back in a silent scream as his hips rocked into the feeling. Soap stopped moving his hands completely and just let Ghost use his hands to ride it out.
He sagged against the wall as he finished, shaking still slightly, but calmer now. Soap took his hand out of his briefs and as he wiped the wetness off on the side of his jeans Ghost readjusted his mask and did his trousers up again, buckling his belt. They breathed heavily together, the closet smelling like sex and the air heavy and humid. Ghost reached back for Soap’s hand, and he let him take it. There was no pulling, or tugging, simply just holding it. An anchor.
“There’s that window, just along the wall opposite us,” Ghost murmured, and Soap was a little surprised at how quickly he got back into the right mindset, but he simply made a sound of acknowledgement, “If we can get it open we can get out and back to the truck fairly easily, I think. As long as no one is outside below us.”
“Alright, L.T. On your mark?”
Ghost nodded and carefully pushed the door to the closet open, doing quick surveillance to see if anyone was down the hall. Once given the clear they both exit and stalked towards the window. Soap unholstered his hand gun and held it at the ready, blocking Ghost’s body as he unlocked the window. As soon as he heard the click and the smooth sound of the window being pushed open. Soap looked back to see Ghost already climbing out of the window, gesturing for him. The sergeant followed quickly behind, waiting for the other man to get a head start before following quickly behind.
As soon as they both had two feet on the ground they made a break for it, Soap holding tightly onto his side bag to make sure the papers didn’t fly out. The night air was cold, biting at his nose and cheeks as they ran. After a few minutes, the truck came into view and they slowed down considerably, both men panting. Soap quickly ducked under to make sure it hadn’t been tampered with as Ghost checked under the hood. As soon as both were cleared, they got into the truck.
Soap opened his bag and rechecked the file, flipping through to verify the names once more before tucking it away safely and tossing it to the backseat. Ghost started the ignition and soon they were backing out of the clearing they were parked in, and then on their way to the side road. In and out, a clean job. Soap buckled his seat belt and then turned his attention to Ghost. He looked looser than just a few hours ago, less uptight. A small smile crept onto his face, despite him trying to fight it down.
“I can tell you have something to say, Johnny. What is it?” Ghost asked, eyes laser focused on the road in front of them.
Soap shrugged, “Just thinkin’.”
“Yeah? Well, enlighten me, sergeant, we’ve got a ways to go.”
Soap thought, for a moment more, before looking out the windshield as well. It felt easier to say it, without looking straight at him.
“You know I meant it, right? I…” He sighed roughly, hiding his eyes in his hand, “I have feelings for you. I want…” everything, “I want anything you’re willing to give me. Even if we’re just fuck buddies. I don’t care, I just want you near me, Ghost.”
He let the confession hang between them, in the slowly warming air of the truck. Soap risked a glance back at Ghost, and he felt so affectionate. Even here, driving them away from their mission, he was so perfect to look at. Handsome eyes with his blonde eyelashes peaking out from the shadows. Soap would be content if the rest of his life was just looking at him in moments like these. Soft, quiet moments, away from everyone else, away from all the danger.
“I meant it too, Johnny. I wouldn’t have done all that if I didn’t feel the same,” And Soap grinned, “And besides. You made quite a few promises back there. I hope you’re intending on keeping them.”
Soap laughed, loud and free, now that they were alone, and nodded. He felt like he could burst, with how happy he felt. How relieved he felt.
“I’m happy to hear it. I’ll make sure to hold up my end of the agreement, Ghost.”
“... Simon.”
Soap paused, head whipping around to fully look at Ghost, “What?”
The man shrugged, eyes reflecting the moon, “My name’s Simon. You deserve to know that.”
Soap slowly nodded, reaching over the center console and nodding, “Thank you. I appreciate it,” And then, because he was feeling a bit cocky, “So how about when we get somewhere safe I get you on my tongue next, Simon?”
“I will not hesitate to throw you out of this truck, MacTavish.”
“Yeah, alright, I deserve that.”