Chapter Text
Soap's day had been long and frankly, quite hard. First thing in the morning, he had overslept, subsequently missing breakfast and his morning coffee. Then he had hurried to the demolition range, being scheduled to train a group of supposed advanced demolitions experts. It had been supposed to be an easy task and he had slapped together a few fun exercises with a little bit of theory sprinkled in. Impromptu bomb making, a lesson in disarming a new type of explosive, which they had started to encounter more and more in the field, and lastly, setting off a few controlled charges.
So far so good, one might think. But when he had arrived and started asking the group his first, absolutely routine, questions it had become clear that their Captain head grossly overstated their abilities. Sure, they knew the basics, were eager to learn, and grateful for the opportunity. But his time was more than wasted with them. He had to restructure his whole plans in order to make this salvageable.
In retrospect, the group could have gotten a way better prepared training from someone else that wasn't even in the SAS, and who had been properly informed about the soldiers experience. Or lack there off.
To make this training at least somewhat useful, they had to skip lunch as well, which left him bereft of his usual time with Ghost. It was fine. After all, he didn't need to see the man. He just wanted to, desperately.
But instead of listening to old man jokes searched up on Bing or at least getting to rant about his frustrations, he spent the afternoon here. With an excited gaggle of young recruits, who followed him around like misplaced ducklings.
It shouldn't anger him as much as it did. Training exercise was training exercise after all. Unsurprisingly, this mantra didn't really help, and at the end of the day, he was exhausted, hungry, and ready to choke the life out of the fucker, who was responsible for the misinformation.
When he entered the mess hall, it didn't get any better. They were already out of meatloaf, which only left an unappetizing, brownish lentil soup with thick, wobbly, bacon strips on the menu. Great. Just what he needed. A culinary disaster. At least they still had the good desert, chocolate pudding with raspberry sludge on top. A questionable choice, sure, but still better than the one with the grossly artificial strawberry flavor.
He took two, just in case that he would find his lieutenant in the crowd, he couldn't leave out a good opportunity at courting through food.
He was looking around the mess with his tray in hand, hoping to find his favorite specter or at least Gaz, but despite the room being fucking packed, he couldn't make out anyone from his team. It wasn't a big surprise, to be honest. Ghost only let himself be dragged out into the open by Johnny, because if he went alone, he would be bothered by new recruits who wanted to hear his stories and Gaz usually ate a little bit earlier.
In and of itself, this wasn't too bad either. Soap was tired, drained, and could do with a little bit of social respite, if you could call eating in a military cafeteria anything else, then a horrible experience. Culinary and company wise.
But this also meant that he had to go and search for a free space to sit, which was kind of hard at around this time. Most tables were tightly packed, and the ones that weren't, came with a seating chart that meant that he would have to cram himself between new recruits. And those would definitively jump at the opportunity to ask away at one of the 141 operators.
He knew most faces, it was a rather small base after all, but right now, he wasn't eager on any of them. They knew him as the friendly, Scottish sergeant who was always up for a friendly chat or a round of cards, and right now he couldn't live up to this reputation.
So naturally, sitting between eager youngsters wasn't the best option, especially if one looked for a little bit of peace and quiet. Luckily, he spotted a table which was half empty, and already took a few steps in its direction, when he made out some of the faces he had trained just half an hour earlier. No fucking way. Craning his head, he was elated to make out a table with four seats only occupied by one man. The guy looked a little bit older than him, blonde and vaguely tired.
Perfect.
Probably another sergeant or lieutenant visiting from another base, maybe even jet-lagged, not likely to go on his nerves with incessant chatter, or painful smalltalk.
He quickened his steps. As not to lose the perfect seat to someone else and flopped down with an apologetic smile. The two yellow diamond shaped insignia on the jacket, which was slumped over the chair next to the man, marked him as a lieutenant, and Soap thought that he should at least pay a little bit of respect to a superior officer.
“Sorry, Sir, ah hope this seat wasnae saved. Just not too keen to sit with the rockies.”
The guy was about to open his mouth, when the sergeant was already halfway through his sentence. Blondie looked a little bit surprised at that and closed it again without emitting a sound. On the second look, the guy was easy on the eyes, muscular, but not incessantly so. He was taller than Soap as well, if he would have had to guess. A large scar dissected his face from his right temple to his left cheek, slashing right over the nose and pulling at the tissue in a brutal way. It made his face asymmetrical and also rugged, full of character.
His eyes were brown, his hair was ashen blonde, and his skin was creamy pale. Just how Soap liked them. Delicious.
Cautiously, he shot him a little smile and looked down on his own plate again. Testing the waters. If serving with Ghost and Roach had taught him one thing, it was not to stare at a disfigured guy, no matter how much your hindbrain tried to.
Besides, it wasn't like he was actually interested, not with the mad crush on his very own skull-faced goth bastard, but he could check out the goods, couldn't he? A little bit of light flirting never hurt nobody. Well, that wasn't technically true, the gay panic defense was a thing for a reason. But at least it had never hurt him, and in a full mess hall, he was willing to take that gamble.
“Fresh on base?” The guy looked around slightly, without actually moving his head, as if Soap could have spoken to anyone else. When the brunette cocked an eyebrow, the words seemed to register with the man opposite him, awarding him a lopsided smile, shrugging slightly before digging into his… oh, Soap was so goddamn jealous. The guy had gotten meat loaf, it was barely touched as well. And now that it was on his register, he could smell it.
Soap looked at it longingly, contemplating if you should ask the guy if it tasted as good as it smelled, but decided that this was a step too far into a weird direction. The poor dude hadn't signed up for his antics. Yet.
Still, this was pure torture.
Trying to get his mind off of it, he picked up their non conversation again. “What's that supposed to mean? Don't you know where you came from?” It was a little joke, obviously spoken with a smile and humor, and thankfully the man picked up on it, rolling his eyes and waving him off. Weird. But okay, Soap could work with a shy guy, he had gotten Ghost out of his shell in no time after all. Even if Ghost hadn't been shy, just a little… grumpy. Yeah, grumpy sounded way better than traumatized, antisocial and drilled to be the perfect super-soldier.
Taking it as a clear refusal to talk, he started eating his own mushy soup, pulling his face into a frown. It even tasted like mud. And he was one to know, he had spent enough days with his face pressed into the wet ground, to basically be a mud connoisseur.
A gentle knock on the laminated plywood sheet of the table made him look up in confusion. The lieutenant raised his hands in front of his chest, making sure that he had Soap's full attention on them before he started to sign. Bad soup? Can swap.
It was a seldom occurrence that Soap was this happy to have Roach on the team, and subsequently securing Ghost as a trainer for British Sign Language. He looked up at the guys eyes in bewilderment. No way this dude would actually do that for him.
“Dinnae worry aboot it. First come first serve, ah dillydallied while cleanin’ up after training. It's me own damn fault. But still, thank ye.”
With a roll of his warm, brown eyes, the man took Soap's plate, shoving his own over at him and gently pried the spoon from between his fingers. The sergeant felt his face heat up at the touch of warm, calloused fingers.
Another soft rap on the table. Used to worse. Eat MREs often. You look hungry.
With a pang of guilt in his stomach, he handed the man his spare desert. He could get Ghost another one, or bring him his own, if they would be out of the good ones later, but a kind gesture called for an equally kind payback.
The men let out a chortling chuckle, winking at him before pointing at the desert, and making a ‘perfect’ sign. Goddamn, this one was cute.
He thanked the man, this time in shaky BSL, in order to really get his appreciation across. It earned him a fond smile and a small nod, before the man started eating, as if he hadn't just behaved incredibly odd.
When one of the trainees, he had had the pleasure with earlier, walked past, Soap inconspicuously hid his face behind his unoccupied hand, praying that he wouldn't be recognized. It would only end with him getting roped into some half assed conversation with an overeager boy. He was in luck, but when he resumed his previous pose, blondie looked at him with the questioning expression on his face. Trouble? Annoying? He enquired with a grin, not unkindly, but definitely teasing.
Soap laughed and leaned back, contemplating just waving it off, but when he looked into those deep eyes, he found himself eager for a little bit of trivial chit chat with the man. So he recounted his day, exaggerated here or there, strictly for comedic effect of course. Casually leaning close now and then. Winking. Smiling. Checking out the guy. Good grief, he was gorgeous. Soap would totally tap that if he wasn't certain that Ghost would somehow get wind of it and lose all of the interest he might have. Might as in maybe, if Soap was lucky and the stars stood in the right constellation.
The sergeant was not one to push away a friendly, charismatic person like this, but there were more important things in life. Impressing Ghost. Getting Ghost to look at his ass. And making Ghost fall irrevocably, unabashedly in love with him, until marriage was very much on the table.
The man chimed in with the occasional question, never letting the conversation stop for longer than it took for Soap to shovel food into his mouth. And Soap loved it. The guy hung at his every word, even if it wasn't too interesting what he had to say, seemingly just liking the sound of his blabbering. In return, he got awarded the occasional smile or chuckle.
It was a nice change of pace to talk to someone who wasn't annoyed or irritated by his habit to jump around between topics whit a total lack of a discernible bridge between them. His ADHD and lightning-quick thoughts sometimes made it hard on other people to mentally follow him. Ghost as well as Gaz had mastered this craft, but not many others bothered. This man just seemed too perfect to let go without exchanging numbers, but all the while, he felt guilty.
Guilty for potentially leading such a good guy on, as well as for his perceived affront against the self imposed fidelity for his lieutenant. They weren't an item, would most likely never be, but Soap still couldn't bear the thought of ruining the possibility of it for a quick shag with a handsome stranger.
When the conversation started to slow, because of Soap's thoughts being occupied elsewhere, the man snapped his fingers again, just to sign something into existence, that he had dreaded.
You free this evening?
Soap bit his lip, not entirely sure what to do about this now. He wanted to let him down easily, while also making it clear that there was no way in hell that he would start anything with him, as not to lead him on any further. Clearing his throat, he settled on a gentle, but clear approach.
“See, ye are mighty bonnie, but… ah will have ye ken that ah ain’t a free man, there is a big, scary fucker with kind of a claim on me. He just doesnae ken it yet, but we are practically datin’.” Even though it hadn't been his intention, there was something sad in his voice, no matter how hard he had tried to pave over it with a bright smile and a joke.
Loyal. The man suddenly couldn't meet his eyes. Like that. Too bad, you seem like fun. Lucky guy.
Soap smiled and started playing with his fork. “Ah. If this ever works out, ah am actually the one who is lucky to have him. Ye would agree if ye knew him.”
The man cocked his head and looked at him with something indescribable in his eyes. Then, almost hesitantly, he gestured for him to go on. To elaborate. Well, Soap would be an idiot to pass up the chance to finally tell someone about his silly little crush. Someone who was also gay and would therefore hopefully keep his secret.
When Soap didn't react right away, the blonde signed again. Tell me about him. As if he would actually need any form of encouragement for this.
A smile spread over his face. “He’s a genius on the field. When ah first saw him, ah thought he was just one of those lone wolf types, great for the mission, but fatal for their teammates. But he is a great… soldier.” Stopping himself from addressing Ghost by his rank, he at least tried to keep the appearance of anonymity and reasonable deniability.
“Even when shit gets hot, he is calm and a fantastic leader, because he cares about everyone who serves under and with him. Ah hate getting sent out on a mission without him. There is nothing like knowing that he's watching me six.”
The blonde didn't meet his eyes any longer, instead opting for looking at the scratched up table with a faint smile. His hands signed without supervision. Sounds good. You guys friends?
Soap laughed heartily, looking at the ceiling for a second. “Ah would like to think so. We eat together, a lot actually. Ah always look forward to it, because I really can't think of another reason to spend time with them on base aside from trainin’ or sparin’. Ah would love to just hang out, but he's not really the social butterfly type and ah dinnae wanna scare him off.”
Scratching his beard, he frowned. Ghost had never outright acknowledged the bond Soap imagined them to have. “Ah consider him a friend, but what do ah ken? Ah think someone burned him, and now he really doesn't do the whole ‘letting people close’ thing.”
He sounds difficult. Why not move on?
The words hit him hard, because he had thought about them himself, laying in bed, alone, and chastising himself over his inappropriate feelings for his superior officer.
“Ye cannae choose who ye fancy. And ah also dinnae want to, he's a good person and maybe, he will eventually come around. Ah love the little things he does for me, we save each other seats, he shows me how to get better at sparrin’ and recommends books, even though ah hate to read. Ah think he wants to encourage me to be a little bit better than ah am. Sometimes it feels like ah am his soft spot.”
The guy gave a noncommittal hum and Soap realized how weird it was for him to just dump all of this, on what was basically a stranger. But the guy had asked, and Soap was desperate for someone to listen. He would just wait if the guy would ask another question. And if not, he would stop.
Hot? The single word gesture paired with the questioning look in the pretty brown eyes made him grin.
“Oh, ye have no idea. No offense, but easily the most sexy lad on base. Built like a brick shit house, tall and the most beautiful ass ye have ever seen. He also has the prettiest smile. Way out of me league.” This wasn't quite true, Soap only knew how warm the expression in Ghost's eyes became, when he was amused by something. He was aware that half of a smile and hands with crooked fingers were weird details to fixate on, sure. But he couldn't go and just rant on and on about gorgeous brown eyes with pale lashes, when the guy opposite him sported a similar feature. Maybe this was why he felt so attracted to him. Or maybe it was just a pretty face, who knew?
Not bad yourself. Soap rolled his eyes, but returned the sentiment, nevertheless. It was flattering that a hot guy like this showered him in attention and compliments, even if he knew that he had no chance of having a go at his ass.
Sometimes he wished that his silly crush wouldn't hold him back. There was no way in hell Ghost was interested in him, or even into men for that matter. It would be an incredible coincidence for two queer men to serve together, to click, and to fall in love.
Blondie was friendly, charming and respectful. If Soap was a little bit smarter, he would just go for him, invite him to drinks or take him out for a nice dinner. But it wouldn't be fair as all he would be thinking about would be Ghost, his warm, baritone voice and the care, which he extended to Soap on a daily basis. Even if he didn't show it directly.
He knew that was futile, and with every word, he spoke into existence, he made it worse on himself. This had to stop.
With the wide, slightly forced smile, he steered the conversation into safer waters, asking the man since when he was on base, and who he was serving under. The answers weren't unfriendly per se, but it was clear that the man wasn't too keen on sharing more than he had to, and eventually they fell into a comfortable silence. Deep in thought, watching the soldiers that were passing by together.
When he grew more and more tired, he thanked the man for the nice chat with a warm smile and stood up, telling him that he could always join him when they saw each other in the mess hall. The guy only nodded slightly, raising his hand to a lazy salute and Soap was sure that he could feel the man's eyes glued to his back, as he discarded his tray.
When he was sure that he was out of sight, he pulled out his phone, shooting a quick text over to his favorite lieutenant, informing him that he had a spare dessert he would love to give to him instead of throwing it away.
Around midnight, it became clear that Ghost wouldn't answer any more and was probably fast asleep already, so he shoveled the delicious treat into his own mouth, wishing the man was sitting next to him right now.
Pathetic, but what was love, if not a little silly?