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He had a deep ache in his bones, the constant hum of the helicopter’s spinning blades above them beginning to grate at his patience. He wanted nothing more than to be back in his barracks, sleeping off the soreness in his joints. The team had been stationed in the middle of nowhere, days of careful surveillance before taking down an entire facility. The mission took two weeks, leaving everyone exhausted and irritated. Ultimately, it was a success, at least easing their minds. Usually, the 141 would be out at a bar, celebrating their win after grueling days, but everyone was dead at their feet. Soap wanted nothing more than a hot shower and a mediocre bed to curl into and sleep the rest of the day.
They’d all worked hard, pushing their bodies to the brink of breaking as they fought through the facility and tore the entire operation to the ground. It was a trafficking ring, transporting about any illegal thing you could imagine, drugs, firearms, and people. It’d made them all sick, wanting to rush in and destroy the entire building. Still, there were innocent victims inside, forcing them to devise a strategy before they could go in, guns blazing.
He glanced over at Gaz, seeing the man’s eyes drooping heavily and forcing himself to blink awake every few seconds. Their captain didn’t look much better off, his muscles still tense as his body began to experience the first signs of an adrenaline crash. He knew they all looked worse for wear, desperate for some good rest and relaxation. Finally, his eyes drifted to the lieutenant, finding his eyes already upon him. Dark irises stared back at him, murky and hazy from lack of sleep. Yet, Ghost still carried himself as though he was in top shape, ready to do everything all over again. No one would notice the subtle signs that the man was worn out unless they genuinely looked for it.
Soap had slowly learned all of the man’s tells, little clues into how he was feeling. The shift in his shoulders when his back was aching, his feet sliding ever so slightly on the floor to readjust his posture in a desperate attempt to stay awake, or how his eyes would shift over things sightlessly as though surveying the area. Ghost was a master of covering up his supposed weaknesses, but Soap was a master at reading all of his tells. Eventually, Soap broke their eye contact, eyes shifting to look up into the aircraft's cockpit, searching for any sign that they were close to the base. His prayers were answered when a voice broke through the engine's roar, “Touchdown in 5.”
He could tell everyone was collectively sighing in relief, even if there was no audible indication. Once the chopper landed, the group rushed out to get back inside. “Good work out there, boys; use tomorrow to rest up and refresh.” Price called, his voice rough and scratchy from exhaustion. Soap mumbled quiet affirmation before making a beeline for his barracks. He grabbed what he needed for a nice shower and began to wind down for the night. The hot water on his skin relaxed the tension in his ligaments, forcing a quiet sigh from his mouth. He wasn’t sure how long he was in there, scrubbing away the dirt and grime until his skin was raw and sensitive. The sergeant felt more like himself after than he had in the last few hours, making a final trip to his room and crashing into the bed as sleep gripped him.
By the time he woke up the following day, it was well into the afternoon already. His stomach grumbled, begging for him to get real food instead of the subpar MREs he’d been living off of. He shrugged on some sweats and headed for the communal kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets and finding enough to make a sandwich. It was no five-star meal, but he was happy to have something fresh at least. He devoured the contents, barely taking a moment to breathe as he inhaled the food. Feeling relaxed and satisfied, he wandered briefly, boredom already grasping at him. His body was still too worn down to even think about training, knowing it would do more harm than good. He also knew that Gaz was most likely still sleeping, with how he was dozing off in the chopper yesterday. The captain was most likely in meetings already, life never stopping for the man.
It only left one person he could pester to pass the time, changing his path to find his barracks. Ghost typically holed himself up in his room after a difficult mission, going through his rituals to recenter himself to be prepared to return to normalcy. The soap had intruded on the routine plenty of times before, the lieutenant never showing too much annoyance at his presence. It was almost as if Ghost was waiting for him, already up and opening the door at the first two knocks. “Hey, Lt, mind if I chill here?” The Brit gave a quiet hum, moving back to his seat near the desk, different firearms and other gear spread across the surface. It appears as though he caught the man cleaning his artillery, something that wasn’t common for his routine. He had replaced his usual hard shell mask with a softer balaclava, exposing more of his features than usual.
“Don’t you usually do this the night we get back?”
Ghost looked up from where he’d grabbed his M4A1 assault rifle, pausing to ensure the gun was completely unloaded. “We returned late; I was too exhausted to clean everything properly.” Soap hummed quietly, sitting on the man’s bed and relaxing as he watched lazily. Ghost was highly systematic in handling his weapons, doing everything as precisely as possible. He checked the rifle for its lockdown pins on the sides of the gun to pop the upper and lower receivers apart. Next, he moved onto the bolt carrier, removing the firing bolt and placing it onto the desk. Finally, he returned to the upper receiver and pulled the charging handle. With the gun wholly taken apart, he grabbed his cleaning rod and a small rag, entirely focusing on sliding it into the chamber and removing any lingering gunpowder.
Ghost had a deep furrow in his brow; eyes laser-focused as he deconstructed and cleaned his artillery. He glanced up to look up at the sergeant, noting the intense gaze of the Scotsman. His eyes were trained on the slide of his hands, moving repetitively up and down the barrel as he cleaned it. There was a slight glint of something in his eyes, though he couldn’t make it out. “Alright there, Johnny?” The man jerked momentarily before glancing up at the lieutenant, his cheeks flushing a gentle pink. “Aye, just observing.” Ghost couldn’t help the involuntary twitch to his lip as a smirk tried to force itself onto his face. “I can see that.” He huffed quietly, returning to his desk, finding his gun oil, and applying a generous amount onto the rod. The lieutenant began his careful ministrations once more, more aware of the heavy stare he was receiving. He went slower now, dragging the rod in the gun with an easy glide from the lubrication. He heard the sharp inhale from over on the bed and couldn’t help himself now, glancing back up but continuing his motions.
Soap stared at Ghost with lust and curiosity, his eyes never straying far from the man’s ministrations. Ghost raised an eyebrow at him, the corner of his mouth twitching in response. "Something on your mind, Johnny?" he asked, his voice light. The sergeant chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Just admiring how you handle that rifle," he said, his eyes flickering over the weapon in Ghost's hands. “You took it apart so methodically, making it look like an art form.” The lieutenant couldn’t help the small huff he released, enjoying the flustered appearance of his sergeant. “Deserves to be taken care of properly.” He wasn’t talking about the rifle, and he knew that Soap understood that from the way his eyes darkened ever so slightly. “Tell me, Johnny.”
Finally, the Scot looked up at him, fully exposing his desperate and needy expression. “Do you want me to take you apart too?” Soap couldn’t hold back the quiet whine that escaped him, shifting quietly on the bed to relieve some of the pressure in his pants. He was unbelievably turned on, aching with the need for his lieutenant to touch him. Watching as the man slide his large hands over the rifle, dwarfing its size, did something to his brain. The smooth glide in and out of the gun’s barrel left his body reeling, sinful thoughts flooding his mind. “Please.” He muttered, barely stopping himself from rushing over there and throwing himself into the man’s lap. Ghost chuckled at his eagerness, his smirk growing. “Patience, let me finish this first.”
Soap nodded, but he couldn't help the groan that escaped him as he watched Ghost continue his meticulous cleaning. He shifted again on the bed, his body screaming for any friction. Ghost was taking his time, enjoying how Soap reacted to his actions. His hands gathered more oil, still conscious not to use too much and risk damaging the weapon, and carefully slid it on the barrel in a suggestive motion. The sergeant let out involuntary pants, mustering as much self-control as possible. Finally, when the lieutenant was satisfied with the cleanliness of his rifle, he put it back together with practiced ease. "Alright, Johnny, your turn." Ghost said, turning to face his sergeant with a predatory glint in his eye. Soap stood up from his spot, heavy steps moving over to the chair and staring down at the lieutenant. “Fuck, please.”
He moved his hands to encapsulate the other’s waist, pulling him down into his lap. “You were so good, waiting for me.” Another whine escaped the sergeant, pushing his aching crotch further onto the man’s lap. Ghost pulled his balaclava onto his nose, surging forwards to place burning kisses onto the man’s neck. A choked-out moan escaped his throat; his mind was fuzzy with lust and need. “So desperate for me, grinding yourself like a slut on my thigh. Would take any relief I give you, huh?”
“Yes, anything. Fuck, please!” Ghost let out a dark chuckle, a hand racking through his mohawk and gently pulling on the strands, exposing more of his neck. He nipped loving bites into the tender flesh, smiling at the pink flush of his throat. Soap was a whimpering mess, hips bucking and rutting into his lap. “Sound so pretty, love.” Finally, the lieutenant showed some mercy on him, a hand trailing down to cup him through his pants. A moan rumbled through him, his forehead leaning against the man’s shoulders and pushing into his hand.
Ghost continued to stroke him through the fabric, enjoying the way Soap squirmed and gasped under his touch. He could feel the heat radiating from the sergeant's body, the desperation in his thrusts. "Take it off," he commanded, tugging at Soap's shirt. Johnny didn't need to be told twice, quickly pulling the fabric over his head and tossing it aside. Ghost took a moment to appreciate the sight before him, the way the muscles in Soap's chest and arms flexed as he jerked. He leaned in, pressing his lips to the man's collarbone before biting down gently.
Soap moaned loudly, his head falling back against the chair. Ghost's hand stroked him through his pants, but he wanted more. He wanted to see Soap completely undone, writhing and begging beneath him. His lips trailed down to bite gently at the man’s nipple, feeling it harden and burn under his touch. With a smirk, he undid the man's belt and unzipped his pants, his hand slipping inside to wrap around his aching cock. Soap let out a string of curses, hips bucking wildly into his touch. "Please, need more," he begged, his hands gripping Ghost's shoulders tightly. The lieutenant couldn’t deny the man when he begged so beautifully, picking up the pace of his strokes. The man’s back arched, trying desperately to push himself further into the man’s hold.
“I’ve got you, love.” Soap whimpered and whined, unable to form a coherent sentence as Ghost took him apart so perfectly. “Close, fucking, please!” Ghost smirked at the man’s desperation, enjoying his sergeant's begs and breathy moans. He leaned in, capturing Soap’s lips in a deep, bruising kiss as his hand continued to stroke him towards release. Johnny whined into the kiss, his hands clutching at Ghost’s shoulders as he rode the waves of pleasure. Finally, with a loud cry, he came undone, his hips bucking immensely as he spilled into Ghost’s hand. The lieutenant continued to stroke him through his orgasm, watching with a pleased smirk as Soap slowly came down from his high. He moved the hand to his mouth, licking up the spend and forcing the sergeant to watch.
“Jesus, fuck…” He collapsed into him, breathes coming in short pants as his body relaxed further into him. Ghost pressed soft kisses against his heated skin, allowing the Scot to soak in the gentle afterglow. “I’m not done with you yet, Johnny.” With minimal warning, the lieutenant scooped the man into his arms and moved them over to the bed. Soap couldn’t help the excited jolt through his body as he was tossed onto the bed, bouncing slightly on the springs. Ghost leaned over, placing a searing kiss on his lips, biting them tenderly. A startled cry escaped the sergeant, giving him enough time to force his tongue between them. His hands trailed back down to teasingly play with his nipples, rolling the buds over on his fingers. Johnny felt so sensitive, every touch burning into his skin like a brand. Ghost moved his hands further, carefully removing the pants and underwear from the man’s frame and tossing them elsewhere.
He began to remove his own garments, making sure the balaclava stayed firmly on. “Please, fuck me.” The Brit smirked devilishly, pressing another kiss to the man’s lips and pulling away momentarily. His eyes shifted, and he spotted the bottle of gun oil on his desk, moving over to grab it. He quickly turned over the label, ensuring it was body safe before returning it to the needy sergeant. Ghost poured a generous amount of the slick substance onto his fingers, warming it between them before he slid one inside of Soap, watching the man’s face as he did so. The sergeant moaned, pushing himself back onto the intruding digit. He added another finger, scissoring them and stretching him open. He leaned over, pressing his lips to the back of Soap's neck, his tongue tracing the arc of his throat. Soap writhed beneath him, begging for more.
“So desperate, Johnny. I love how easily you fall apart for me.”
Soap could only groan roughly, mind completely void as the sensations consumed him. The fingers felt incredible inside of him, stretching and teasing him in ways that made his head spin. He couldn't believe how much he craved the man's touch and needed the lieutenant to fuck him. Ghost added a third finger, and Johnny gasped at the stretch. “Fuck, Simon! Please, need you inside me!” The Brit couldn’t help the guttural growl that escaped him at the sergeant’s words, removing the fingers from the man after a few more moments of stretching. Soap whined at the loss of pleasure, but it quickly became a gasp at the feeling of the man’s cock pressed at his entrance. More gun oil was slathered onto him, helping to ease the slide.
Both men moaned at the feeling of Soap’s hole greedily sucking in the man. Ghost leaned down, placing his lips against Soap's ear. “You feel so fucking good, Johnny. So tight around me.” He started to move, slow and steady at first, each thrust making the sergeant moan out his name. The stretch bordered on almost too much, but the sergeant wouldn’t have them stop for anything in the world. He felt raw and exposed, feeling as though he’d fall apart if the man stopped. The sound of his moans was like music to Ghost’s ears, driving him on as he picked up the pace. He gripped Soap's hips tightly, using them as leverage as he pounded into him relentlessly. The sergeant knew there would be dark bruises where the lieutenant held him too firmly, forcing another deep groan at the thought.
Ghost's thrusts became deeper and more urgent, each one causing Soap's body to shudder with pleasure. They were both desperate for release, hips stuttering as they moved to meet each other. He could feel the Brit getting closer, his breaths coming in ragged gasps against his neck. “I’m gonna come inside you, Johnny,” Ghost whispered, and the words sent a thrill of desire through Soap's body. The thought of the man’s cum filling him made his cock twitch with need. The sergeant arched his back, meeting Ghost's every thrust with equal force. The pleasure was building inside both of them, the pressure growing stronger until he felt like he was about to explode. “I’m so fucking close, please!” He begged, tears brimming in his eyes.
Ghost could feel Soap's body trembling beneath him, and the tight clenching around his cock drove him over the edge. He buried himself deep inside the sergeant with one final thrust, finishing with a low groan. His hips bucked weakly as he emptied himself into the sergeant, the sensation of his release causing Soap to follow suit. The sergeant cried out, his body convulsing as he spilled onto his stomach. Once finished, Ghost collapsed on top of the other, ragged breaths escaping them as they calmed down.
The two laid there in silence for several minutes, catching their breath and enjoying the aftermath of their intense pleasure. Ghost finally stirred, reluctantly pulling out of Soap and rolling onto his back. The pair were coated in sweat and grime, desperately needing showers. The lieutenant pulled himself up, moving to the ensuite and grabbing a washcloth. He soaked it with warm water, moving back into the room to gently wipe up the mess on the Scot’s stomach. “Thank you, Simon.” Soap’s voice was rough and raspy, his eyes dropping with a need for sleep. He felt so warm and full, wanting nothing more than to curl up with the lieutenant and drift off. “We need to shower, Johnny.”
“Later, come here.” He blindly reached out a hand, grasping the man’s wrist and pulling him back onto the sheets. “Want to sleep for now.” He moved over, placing his head onto the man’s chest and hearing his thundering heartbeat. Ghost couldn’t say no to the sergeant when he looked so adorable, soft and sleepy after the rough sex. He smiled fondly at the man and pressed a delicate kiss to his forehead. “Fine, goodnight, love.” Soap’s face broke out in a tired smile before he dozed off, listening to the sounds of the lieutenant’s breathing.