Archive of Our Own

Johny suspects that the creation of a Ghost is somehow tied to Simon’s family. 

The puzzle was solving slowly but surely.

On one of the missions, when they were stuck in the safe house, surrounded by the dark and waiting for the exfil, Ghost shared his past. Just a snippet, but that was enough for Johnny to think about it the whole night.

“Where are you spending Christmas?”

The question was fairly simple and logical. They both got lucky enough to spend their leave outside of the base, and Johnny was already planning what gifts to give his sisters and their mother. But that simple question sours his partner's face. 

“Home.”

“Duh, but with whom?”

The silence was deafening, and for a moment he regretted opening his mouth. He knows Ghost’s family is not around, although the reason is unknown to him. But surely he’s not spending the best time of the year alone, right? Right?

“Alone.” He mumbles quietly.

Another silence. 

He wants to apologise for the question, but that would make the situation even more awkward, so he doesn’t. Comfortable silence is dead now.

Suddenly they both hear footsteps outside. The snow is crunching under someone’s feet, and the guns are ready; Ghost already aimed at something outside the window. Another footstep, then another. Sounds like multiple legs, but not human. Johny still doesn’t see anything, but when his partner lowered the gun, so did he. 

“Wolf.” Ghost said with relief.

That doesn’t make him feel any better. Not only it’s fucking dark and cold, but now he knows there are wolves and who knows what else around the safe house. 

Low chuckle.

Ghost is looking intensely, and Johnny can see the weird gleam in his eyes. He’s sure that there is an shit-eating grin on Ghost’s face behind that mask.

“Don’t shit your pants, please.” 

“Fuck you.” 

He stands, stretching his aching legs, and finally lays himself on the uncomfortable couch in the corner. The safe house is tiny, just two small rooms and a bathroom that probably doesn’t even fit someone as big as Ghost. It has only two windows, and they’ve been sitting beside them for at least four hours now. Price promised that the exfile will arrive early in the morning, but the sunrise is nowhere in sight. 

“I’m seeing my sisters soon,” he shares for some reason. “Haven’t seen them for almost seven months.” 

He smiles, thinking of his older sister and her two daughters. One he hasn’t met yet since he left when Marta was only six months pregnant. 

“And your mother?”

His heart skipped a bit. Personal questions from Ghost are rare. He just wants to spend the time faster, Johnny convinces himself. 

“Yeah, her too.” He says quietly. 

He loves his mom, truly, but after leaving home to be the puppet for the government, their relationship is strained. They were never too close; she definitely preferred the company of his sisters, but he knows she’s worried about him. Although he’s not allowed to use his personal phone at the base much, most of the news his mother gets is through his sisters. 

His heart ached a little thinking of her. At 17, after refusing to attend church anymore, she changed. He knows why. She knows why. 

Attending church every day, hearing the mass that he learned to the bone, and the constant echo of prayers made him nauseous. He loved God at some point, hoping he’ll forgive all his sins, and maybe, just maybe, he could make Johnny normal. He was hoping God would stop his heartache when seeing his friend with another girl. That he will stop his inappropriate sinful thoughts after taking a peek at magazines with handsome male models. He hoped for years, but God never came. Never helped. 

New footsteps, but he ignores them now. 

“Guess what I’m gifting my niece.” He says, mostly to clean his head.

“A gun?”

Laughter fills the room, and Johnny can only guess that the movement beneath the mask is a smile from Ghost. Smiling Ghost is always amusing.

He lifts his head, trying to find Ghost’s gaze, but he is looking out the window. 

“You twat. A dress -  I’m giving her a dress. You know Tiana?” 

“Maybe.”

That makes him smile. Something about a big muscular guy like Ghost knowing about the Disney princess makes him warm inside. 

“Do you have a niece? Or nephew?” He asks, hoping for some kind of answer to his infinite questions, but regret sets in immediately. He should stop with those questions, really.

Ghost is silent again, no movement under his mask. Without even looking away from the window, he squeezes the gun in his hand.

Johnny doesn’t expect to hear the answer after a long silence. The question was out of line; he understands it now. 

He rushes to apologise but words won’t form in his head. 

He lays his head on a rough pillow and closes his eyes, suddenly sleepy. 

“Yeah,” he suddenly hears the mumble. “I had a nephew.”

Had. 

His heart stings. 

Johnny sits up on the couch, supporting himself on his elbows. Ghost is still looking out the window, ignoring every movement and sound Johnny makes. 

Say something.

Say something.

“What happened?” He wanted to ask, but he couldn't. His lieutenant won’t answer. 

But those disgusting worms in his head are constantly moving. There are thousands of questions on his mind, and none can be answered. Not soon, at least. 

Words die out in his throat, but he pushes himself. 

“Bet he loved dinosaurs.” Johnny convinces himself that he sounds as nonchalant and he’s trying to be. “I have a feeling you loved them as a child.”

Changing the subject usually doesn’t work on Ghost, but this time he takes the bait, probably even thankful for that.

Ghost chuckles a little, and Johnny hopes it’s genuine. 

“How did you know?” The bigger man asks.

There is raspiness in his voice that Johnny wants to blame on sleepiness. 

“Aye, men like you always like something trivial.” 

There is no answer. He doesn’t wait for one, falling asleep and trusting Ghost to take the first watch. 

***

Next time, when they were on the base, it was Gaz who brought up family. 

It was after Christmas, leave already spent with the loved ones and gifts open. For some reason coming back to work is easier after having Ghost on the team. 

“-and I got her that stupid unicorn. It’s twice her size, but-“

Johny is actually trying to listen, but Ghost is sitting in front of him with his bare arms, mask still on. 

Ghost doesn’t do that often either. Mask and long sleeves are always on, and even when training, it’s some kind of thin, almost translucent material, but still long enough to cover his tattooed arm. 

Now Johnny can see not only the tattoo sleeve on his left arm but also his scars. Dozens of them, actually. A few Johnny recognised as bullet wounds, but they’re mostly cuts. Deliberate and long, like it was from torture and not some missed step on the mission. 

It makes him nauseous again. 

I know so little about him, Johnny realises.

They have worked together for over two years now, and yet Ghost barely speaks about himself, only giving snippets of his life, just enough to get rid of the questions. Johnny knows that he was pretty young when he got into SAS, and his family is probably dead. That he has (or had) a sibling and a nephew. He also knows that Ghost prefers tea over coffee, showers over baths, and rarely drinks alcohol. 

He knows that he can easily spend two nights with no sleep and reluctantly goes on mandatory medical leave. 

Johnny knows Ghost, but he doesn’t know Simon Riley. And he wants to change that.

“What about you?” It takes him a few seconds to register that the question is addressed to him. 

Everyone looks at him but Price. He instead gives his lieutenant a surprised look, but Ghost is ignoring him. He always does that with their captain. Johnny has a suspicion that Ghost always knows when Price is giving him a look but deliberately ignores it.

“Did your niece like the dress?”

Johnny feels the heat creeping up his neck. She did in fact like that dress. She was screaming and jumping and immediately put it on. He still has that video of her singing with her plushy frog and kissing that poor thing. 

He tells them that, ignoring Ghost’s piercing gaze. Other men are laughing and demand to see the video, and Johnny does pull out his phone. They keep laughing while watching his niece singing with her toy, but Johnny can only look at Ghost. 

He leans forward, trying to look into the phone, and Soap, just like a little boy, holds his breath. They’re not even that close, but the smell alone makes his heartbeat irregular. Ghost smells like home. Like that cozy evening with a family, when you spend your day doing nothing, just enjoying the company of each other. He smells like wood with a hint of strong coffee, which is weird, because he doesn’t even like it. 

He smells like something familiar. Something dear to his heart. 

Ghost chuckles slightly, and suddenly Soap remembers that they’re not alone. His teammates are still around, and Price is now looking at him. That type of gaze that screams, “I know everything.”  And it’s fucking dangerous. 

He avoids his captain and his lieutenant for the rest of the day. 

***

Despair is a heavy thing Johnny found out. It’s choking you with its heavy hand with no mercy. It makes you freeze, but Johnny can’t afford that. If he’ll starts panicking,  everything will go to shit. 

Ghost is silent. Silent for too bloody long. 

Price says it’s going to be alright. It’s Ghost at the end of the day. He’s always alright.

But Soap knows that something is wrong. His gut is screaming that Ghost is in danger, but Price refuses to do anything about it. 

“It’s an order, sergeant.” And it’s true.

The firm hand on Johnny’s shoulder is tightening, and it almost hurts. Almost, but not enough to change his mind. He’s going to find Ghost no matter what.

“Well, it’s shit.” He shrugs the captain's hand away and steps out of the building, ignoring warning glares from his teammates.

“Soap,” says Kyle. It’s a warning as much as a simple call. 

“We can’t fucking leave him like that!” 

He sounds desperate, and he knows it. 

“We’re not leaving him. But if we go searching for him, our target…” 

“I know.” He fucking knows. They can’t miss their target after almost six months of searching for him and getting any possible intel. The mission was planned intently, and if anything goes wrong, they’re fucked. 

He turns to Price, who has already followed him out of the building. 

“You don’t really need me here, sir. Let me find Ghost, and I’ll get us to the exfil whenever you say. I’ll be quiet, I promise.”

Even if he refuses, Johnny will leave. When it comes to saving his teammates, Soap will never back down; Price knows that. So when he stiffly nods, Johnny is gone. Johnny is a firm believer in following his gut, and his gut is telling him that he can’t leave Ghost.

The territory is huge. Pure jungles with three hidden buildings in the trees that you can only spot from the helicopter. The amount of firearms and other weapons trafficked from here to other countries is staggering. 

After leaving Price and Kyle, Johnny doesn’t stop for a second. He immediately checks every place where Ghost could’ve hidden. His mission was to reach building A on the east, where weapons were stored to be transported, and keep his sniper rifle on building B, where it was produced. 

That was the plan. Until something went wrong and he stopped answering. Just dead silence from his microphone. 

Building A is smaller, but it has more security than Johnny expected. At least seven people are surrounding it, but all of them are outside. Soap still hasn’t decided if that’s good or bad news. 

It will be harder to get inside, but if Ghost is in the building, then he might be safe. 

Johnny reaches the back door when he hears footsteps. Someone is about to turn the corner and see him trying to break in. So he gets closer to the wall, trying to blend in. When he sees the man, in all black with a gun strapped to his hip, Johnny attacks. One hand is covering his mouth, silencing the man, while the other is slicing his throat. It’s messy but quiet and relatively fast.

Soap drags his limp body closer to the door and hides him in the bushes. There is a lot of blood, but the sergeant managed to hide most of it with leaves. 

He freezes for a few seconds. No one heard them. No more footsteps too close to him.

He almost jumps hearing Price in his earpiece. 

“Got him?” His voice is strained but firm. 

“On it.” 

Nothing else. Did Price suddenly lose hope in him or something? It’s not the first, and neither will it be the last time he goes after his lost teammate. He saved Kyle multiple times, and so did Price. Then why, when Ghost is the one needing the saving, does Price try to stop him? 

Johnny shakes his head. He needs a clear head; there’s no need to think about it now. 

When inside, he immediately goes to check the roof. If Ghost is not there, he’s officially lost. 

There is a small door leading to the roof, and Johnny takes his gun, pointing it in front of himself. He slowly turns the door handle and opens it. It’s quiet. Too quiet.

One step at a time.

At first it looks empty, and Johnny feels dizzy. If Ghost is not here…

He hears something and quickly turns around. Ghost is pointing a gun at him. 

“Fuck…Johnny.” It sounds like a relief. He lowers his gun and sighs. 

Johnny feels anything but that. He almost runs to him.

Ghost is sitting, leaning on the roof side, clenching his abdomen. His hand is all bloody. 

“What the fuck happened? Why were you not answering me, you fuck?” Johnny practically falls to his knees before Ghost and tries to check on him. 

His lieutenant simply points at something behind Soap’s back, and he turns. A man, dressed as the guy Johnny killed downstairs, is lying lifeless. Ghost’s earpiece is crushed under him. 

Which means Ghost was attacked from the back. 

He removes Ghost’s hands and lifts the shirt. Trying to keep his face even as he leans closer. The wound is not too deep, but he lost a lot of blood. His hands are trembling slightly, and exposed skin is so white, he actually resembles a ghost. 

It scares him much more than he is ready to admit.

Soap frantically pats his teammate for other injuries. He was definitely stabbed in the abdomen, but Ghost’s shirt is slashed on the shoulders, so he commands him to lean forward. 

With a hiss, he follows.

“Jeez, he got you in the back too.” 

“Figured.” 

Johnny actually wants to snap back or even hit him. But there is no time. He tells Price:

“Sir, I got him. Will be in 10 minutes.”

“Good job, we finished here. Exfil will be right on time.”

Hooking Ghost’s arm around his shoulder, Johnny picks him up. Or tries. Because his lieutenant can barely stand on his own. 

“Ghost? Can you walk?”

He nods, but when they try to reach the door leading to the stairs, he almost falls. Not ideal. Johnny can feel his sleeve soaking up Ghost’s warm blood. He tightens his hold on the injured waist. 

How good was that man that he managed to slice up Ghost himself? 

“Bloody hell.” He hisses. Johnny sees that Ghost’ hand clenching his abdomen is shaking. 

Fuck, it’s worse than he thought.

They won’t be able to leave the building unnoticed. 

He contacts the captain again.

“Price, Ghost is really bad; we’ll need help.” 

The line is silent for a couple of seconds, and Johnny already hears in his head the nagging “I told you so” in Price’s voice. 

He looks up at Ghost, but he already looks back. His eyes are hovering around his face and neck, and Johnny hates how even in this situation his skin is burning. With his free hand on the shoulder, he brushes his fingers against Johnny’s neck. 

“You injured?” He asks. The worry is his voice makes the sergeant blush. 

With a confused look, Johnny shakes his head. How can he worry about Johnny when he himself is on the verge of collapsing from blood loss? 

He must have gotten some blood on himself when eliminating the guy downstairs. The thought of Ghost, barely standing by himself, shaking hands from blood loss and drenched in sweat and blood, but still managing to care about Johnny, makes him lightheaded. He’s still not sure if it’s good or bad. 

They need to move and get back to building C, where exfil is waiting for them, but they don’t move. Something pings in Johnny’s heart, something scary, something unusual. 

He’s fond of Simon; he already knows that, and the constant missions with a possibility of never coming back desensitised the fear of dying. But after meeting Simon, there is this never-fading fear of losing him. Of losing something they never had and might never have. This, whatever it’s called, is not him just liking Ghost the lieutenant. It’s loving Simon Riley, and it scares him to death. 

“Location?” 

The captain's voice is like thunder in the silence they created. Almost jolting, they look away. 

“On the roof of building A.”

He’s trying to sound as calm as possible, but the feeling of Simon’s blood on his hand and sleeve makes him dizzy. Too much blood and so little common sense on Soap’s part. It’s the blood loss making Ghost so calm and…caring? 

“We have a heli on the way, but you have to be quick before their men reach it. Either we pick you up from the roof, or you’ll have to reach building C.”

Johnny is pretty sure he already has an answer, but he still asks Ghost.

“Think you can manage the stairs?”

He shakes his head, and Johnny is kind of relieved. Lieutenant is huge, and dragging his weight for so long would be impossible even for him.

“Pick us up from the roof, sir.”

Almost immediately they hear the roaring sound of a helicopter nearby. They spot it at the same time as the bad guys. Screaming and gunfire follow, and Johnny moves Ghost to the edge of the roof and leaves him there to lock the door leading to them. 

Soap has been a part of SAS for many years now, but he’d never been picked up from the roof. He would’ve enjoyed this experience if he wasn’t too worried about Ghost, who almost falls, but Johnny is right in time to catch him by the waist. Ghost hisses again when Soap has to tighten his hold. 

Something breaks in Johnny’s heart seeing his lieutenant like this. Injured, almost miserable. Something Johnny has never seen before.

Sure, he was injured multiple times, but never this severely. Ghost is stoic, but not in an admirable way. In a way that he would hide his injuries for so long that Price and Kyle have to drag him to the medic. In a way that he would bottle up all of the pain and frustration until Soap calls him for sparring, knowing damn well Ghost will unintentionally hurt him. 

So, now, seeing him hissing and moaning in pain is scaring the shit out of Johnny. But he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t want to panic and fuck this shit up. 

They need to get out of here first. 

Heli is right above them now, and they have to figure out how to get Ghost into it. There is no easy way to do that, considering that Simon can barely stand by himself, let alone pull himself on a flimsy ladder. 

“Sir, get Ghost on the ladder and pull him up. I’ll go after.”

“Roger that.” 

“No.” A bloody hand is squeezing his shoulder, but they have no time to argue. 

“Yes, it’ll be quick. I’m right after you.”

Last words are barely coherent with a heli right above them. The door is slid open, and Kyle pushes the ladder out. While helping Ghost to get on the ladder, there are screams outside the door that Johnny is ignoring. If Ghost hears them too over the roaring sound of the helicopter, they’ll slow down. Knowing his lieutenant, he’ll try to fight and get Johnny on the ladder with him. 

Slowly but surely, Kyle and Price are tugging together. Everything feels slower than it actually is, and Johnny starts to panic a bit. The metal door barely holds itself; a few more pushes from the other side and it’ll burst open. Estimating from the screams, there are at least four men trying to break in, and Johnny has no desire to fight them right now. He just wants to get the fuck out of here and get Ghost to the medics. 

“Soap, now!” He hears Kyle.

The ladder is empty, and he grips it with white knuckles, feeling so unbalanced his head is dizzy. Halfway through climbing that flimsy metal thing, the door finally busts open, and more than four men run towards the edge of the roof, aiming their guns at the heli and Johnny. 

Panic sets in instantly, but Price and Kyle are screaming for him to keep climbing while they cover for him. Feeling and hearing bullets right above his head, he climbs that damn ladder with a superhuman speed and strength. He feels someone’s hand grabbing the back of his shirt and dragging him inside and slamming the door of the heli shut. 

He still hears the bad guys shooting and screaming, but he blocks all the sounds, trying to focus on slowing down his heart and breathing. He should sit and strap himself with a seatbelt, but he’s so tired. He keeps lying there on the dirty floor when someone nudges his hand with a boot. He looks up. Ghost, still clutching his abdomen, without a mask, barely whispers. 

“Thank you, Johnny.”

Price is stripping him of his shirt, opening all the pockets on his gear, and emptying his first aid bag. They don’t have enough to actually help Ghost, but he’ll be okay. At the end of the day, it’s Ghost. He’s always okay. 

Johnny grabs Ghost’s boot and shakes it a little. 

“Aye, you’re always welcome, Lt.” 

Even without opening his eyes, he senses that Price is looking between them. 

***

Two weeks after the mission, Johnny didn’t see Ghost much. Between hovering over papers and checking with the medics, Ghost didn’t try to seek him out. Not that he knows of, at least. Johnny himself was buried in the papers or teaching new recruits, so seeing Ghost wasn’t on his mind when every green soldier would piss him off with the most stupid questions. 

He’s worried about seeing Ghost one-on-one and, yes, he knows it’s stupid. Something changes between them after the last mission, but he can’t pinpoint what exactly. Did they go too far while simultaneously doing nothing? Or not enough? 

Ghost is his lieutenant, and Johnny is a sergeant. There is nothing appropriate about their possible relationship. Nothing could be done without crossing the line and being dishonourably discharged after being insubordinate.

 Johnny didn’t do his research actually…what would be the consequences if they -

No. Stop it. Nothing can happen between us.

Johnny might be overstepping sometimes, ignoring Ghost’s or Price’s orders, but he knows when to stop. He never messes with his colleagues or anyone on the base because not only will it be awkward, but also unprofessional. 

But why it’s so different with Simon?

Just when he thought he had cleared his mind of Simon, he appears at his door. Dressed in a tight black shirt, opening his delicious arms, he’s leaning on the wall, near Johnny’s room. His mask is on, but it’s a simple black balaclava instead of his scary plastic skull. 

“Hey, Lt.” Johnny hopes he sounds as casual as he intended.

“Johnny.” His  low ramble sends shivers down Soap’s spine. God, a lot has changed since their last mission. “Mind if we talk inside?” 

He’s so not ready for this.

“Sure.”

Quietly closing the door behind them, Ghost takes off his mask. It’s not that rare of a sight anymore, but it keeps taking the sergeant’s breath away. His brown eyes, without the black smudge around, are piercing through Johnny. Golden locks, framing his beautiful face, are stuck to his forehead, like he just got out of the shower, which he probably did judging by the sweet scent of cinnamon. His hair got much longer than Soap remembers, now almost covering his neck and getting into Ghost’s eyes. He likes it much better, Johnny realises.  

He clenches his mask in his big hands.

“You refused to follow the captain’s orders.” Simon says, snapping Johnny out of his state.

Well, what the fuck?

So he’s here for a work talk after all. 

Fuck me. What was I expecting?

“And you both know I don’t follow those kinds of orders.” Crossing his arms over his chest, Johnny leans on his desk, resting his legs in front of him. 

“And what kind is that?” 

“Shit orders.”

“Soap,” Ghost says with a long sigh. But it’s not the disappointed one. More like a tired parent whose child doesn’t get his lesson for the tenth time.

“No, Simon.” Okay, maybe he’s getting a little heated. “You’re telling me I should’ve listened to Price and left you there?” 

“You’re a sergeant and Price is your captain. That’s how the military works, you know? You listen to his orders without hesitation.” 

“So I was supposed to leave you on the roof to bleed to death?” Johnny is standing now, pacing his room while staring at his lieutenant with wide eyes. 

“First of all, yes, you should’ve done that, second, no, I wouldn’t have died.” 

“Like hell you would! You could barely stand on your own!” 

That’s not the thank you you expected after saving someone’s life. Yes, Price is his captain, but what kind of world would he live in if everyone followed orders, without a question? This is a real world, not some kind of movie where they need a sacrifice for the sake of a plot. 

“Johnny, why did you go after me?” 

He stopped. There is something weird in Simon’s eyes. A pleading question? Need for an answer that would give him hope? 

“We’re a team. I’m not leaving anyone behind.” That’s the protocol he’s supposed to follow, at least.

Ghost takes a step forward, throwing the mask on the desk behind Johnny. 

“You know why I’m here.” Not a question, but a statement.

Fucking hell.

They can’t do this. They can’t, period. Price is going to kill them for sure. So he goes for a diplomatic answer.

“Because Price sent you here to teach me a lesson or whatever…”

“No.” 

Don’t do this to me.

“Simon…” he whines, but it comes out more like a whisper.

“I know.” His voice is getting lower, accent stronger. “I also know that you were ready to sacrifice a mission for me. I know that you were ready to sacrifice yourself for me.”

And I’d do it again and again.

Simon is stepping closer and closer, and it doesn’t matter how much Johnny wants to meet him. Instead, he steps back until his hips meet the desk again. Ghost is not that close, but the feeling of the wood pressed against his back and the sheer force of Ghost’s presence is suffocating. Johnny feels cornered, and it doesn’t matter that he imagined this specific position in his dreams, where everything ended with him on the desk. 

“If you want me to stop, tell me now.” 

Simon is stepping closer again. Wood and coffee scents are surrounding Johnny now, giving an illusion of no escape. Ghost is everywhere. In his mind, in his heart, in front of him, and now that he places his hands on the desk cornering Johnny physically, he’s giving up. 

He doesn’t stop Simon when his lips are pressing into Johnny’s. Just a light touch, like he’s checking if Johnny will pull away and stop him.

Simon doesn’t stop Johnny when he immediately grabs blond locks and presses harder into foreign lips. It’s not rough. It's proof that he has given up on caring about being professional, about being subordinate.

The kiss is slow and surprisingly soft. The silent exhale from Ghost is barely noticeable, but Johnny feels it on his face. He lets go of Simon’s hair but keeps it on his neck, pressing him impossibly closer. He feels a touch on his waist, then a forceful tug. 

Maybe dreams do come true, because Simon is tugging him on the desk without breaking the kiss. Their chests are rubbing against each other, and Johnny can feel their hearts thundering at a dangerous speed. He can also feel Simon’s nipples hardening through his shirt. Without a care in the world Johnny thrusts forward, his dick rubbing against Simon’s waist. So long-needed friction makes him groan and moan so loud, Ghost has to shut him up with another strong kiss. 

There is no oxygen left in their lungs, but Johnny is scared to pull away, like it’s all going to break and the reality will come, knocking on his head with a question, “Are you fucking dumb?”  

But he has to because his head is dizzy; he’s not sure from what - the lack of oxygen or the feeling of Simon’s shaft poking his thigh. 

Heavy breathing is filling the room when they finally pull away. Ghost’s hands still massage the waist he’s gripping for his dear life. Johnny also doesn’t let him go too far, still holding the back of the neck of the man in front of him. 

Simon’s lips are hovering above Johnny’s ear, his heavy breathing forcing Soap’s aching dick to twitch in his pants. He then moves to his temple, kissing his skin softly, his hands wandering to Johnny’s back. 

“Price is…” Without letting him finish, Simon interrupts him.

“He knows.” 

Grabbing the man’s shoulder, Johnny pulls him away from his neck. 

“What?” 

The slump of Ghost’s shoulder and his exhale make Johnny want to smile. He looks defeated, like he doesn’t want to admit his next words. 

“I talked to him. About you.” 

“Okay…and?” His heart is racing, and something hot spreads in his chest, ready to burn his ribs.

“I asked if it’s allowed for a sergeant and a lieutenant to…you know,” he awkwardly gestures between them. “He said technically yes, but with restrictions.”

“You were so sure that I liked you?” Johnny stupidly asks with a wide smile. 

At this point probably everyone knew. Price’s eyes darting between Ghost and Johnny was a big indication. Kyle’s jokes that, thankfully, he never shared in front of Ghost. Gaz’s constant remarks that there is no Soap without Ghost. 

Fuck, was he that obvious and oblivious?

Simon's eyes are studying his face with an arched brow. 

“Yes, I was sure.” His voice is deep, the Manchester accent getting stronger again. 

Fuck, his voice alone shouldn’t make him blush like that.

“So, um, what are the restrictions?”

“Are we doing this?” Asks Ghost instead. 

Instead of answering, Johnny grabs him by the hem of his shirt and kisses him. Without missing a beat Simon is pushing his tongue in, hands coming back to grab the man’s waist.

 Johnny likes that, he decides. The way his big, scarred hands are kneading Soap’s skin, pushing toward himself, suffocating him with his scent. 

If this is not proof of his intentions, then he has to prove Ghost the other way. And it will definitely include his bed. 

“Is this a good answer?” Johnny says breathlessly.

“Yes.” Simon answers in a whisper.

***

Restrictions, my ass. 

They have to go through a committee and prove that their relationship will not affect the unit's discipline and no abuse of authority is happening. If something goes wrong with their relationship, there are going to be legal consequences that none of them want to even think about. 

“How did Price react?” Johnny asks, with a towel around his hips, hair still damp from the shower. 

Ghost is still lying in bed, naked, without a care in the world, and sweaty after sex. 

“Wasn’t surprised.” He answers shortly. “He was pissed, though. I guess he was hoping we won’t act on our feelings.” He laughed a little, like the idea of them not being together is impossible. 

Ghost always expected them to be something. But not Johnny. 

Working with him for over two years brought something Johnny never expected. The feeling of belonging and being heard. The feeling of knowing he has your back and will never turn on you. The feeling of being home and being expected to come back alive. Of knowing someone is waiting for you on the other side of the door that Johnny was always scared to open. 

“I wish I'd seen his face when you told him.” 

It makes them chuckle. Johnny, still with a smile on his face, plops on the bed. Simon immediately grabs him by the waist, pulling him closer. The mix of smells of sweat and cum from Simon and Johnny’s shower gel makes him hard again, and he straightens his towel to hide his growing erection.

Simon is not having it. He grabs Soap by the wrist and pulls his hands away. Pins his wrist above Johnny’s head hard enough for him to struggle. 

“Hiding from me, sergeant?” 

Now, with the towel hiding nothing, Johnny lifts his hips up, chasing the friction. Hearing the man above him inhaling sharply, Johnny's erection is only hardening. He feels Simon’s shaft growing along his abdomen, and he barely bites back a moan when Ghost is shoving their hips together. They both moan, drowning in pleasure. 

A few more minutes and Johnny won’t feel his hands with how tight his man is gripping them. God, how much he likes that. To feel like he belongs to Simon Riley. 

Just a little more friction, a few more noises from Ghost, and Soap can cum again. 

“Never.” He rasped, throat tightening with an overwhelming hunger. 

It’s so easy with him. The way he moans and pants in his ear, the way he shudders every time Johnny takes him in his mouth. How easy it is for Simon to read the lust in the sergeant's eyes. How he knows exactly what Johnny is demanding from him with simple gasps and jerks. 

It’s scaring him sometimes how the man he has known for only three years can read him like they grew up together. Like Simon knows exactly what is going on in his mind, which way his thoughts will turn. 

He often thinks about how his life never belonged to him. The Church had him when he was too young to even understand the concept of a god. Then the military took over, using his body like a doll. 

Then Simon Riley came. Settling in his mind forever, not giving him a choice, choking Johnny with his presence alone. 

But now he finally gained his life back. And he chooses Ghost to be by his side. Now he won’t have to spend Christmas alone.