Archive of Our Own

It wasn't much of a secret to anyone that spent time around him to know-

Ghost hated new things.

New things were right up there with surprises and the pity of strangers, civilian crowds and the sudden backfire of someone's shitty car.

So to be suddenly made aware that he was getting a new teammate?

Yeah, Ghost fucking hated it. Hated Price for not telling him.

Hated it even more when he saw the man's file after storming into the captain's office with a demand to see the new operator that would be joining them. Could barely call him a man, really – not compared to himself, not compared to Price. They'd both been to hell and back, seen shit that would haunt them for the rest of their miserable lives.

The kid was barely twenty-one. Ghost was pretty sure that he'd been shipping out on his own first missions before this “Soap” character was even out of diapers.

“You can't be fucking serious, Price. The 141 isn't the team to be babysitting some FNG that managed to get past selection.”

“I'm very serious,” Price responded, calm and collected in a way that made Ghost want to rage all the more. “He has potential. He didn't just ‘manage’ to get past selection, he passed as the youngest to do so, and did it with damn near flying colors.”

Ghost grit his teeth at that. “You know that selection isn't the same as real active combat-”

“Do you have anything more substantial than his age to gripe about, or are you just upset that someone new is coming onto the team?”

“I don't think he's a good fit.”

“Why not?”

“Because we're good enough of a team as is, adding more people will just add more chance of someone being insubordinate-”

“Oh, fuck off with that, Simon,” Price growled back. “You know we're all plenty insubordinate, Gaz talks back to you all the fuckin’ time. Hell, you do too, which is why you're in my office right now giving me this shit. Soap is a good pick for the team, and you'll treat him as a permanent member until he actually proves incompetent or troublesome.”

Ghost wanted to growl, snap back at Price, but he held his tongue as he heard the warning in his voice. “Fine,” he grumbled instead.

“What was that, Lieutenant?”

Fuck. Guess he pissed the captain off more than he meant to. Serves him right for not giving Ghost warning nor options, but he didn't want to test the man's ire anymore than he had already.

“Yes, sir,” he said, voice flat and firm like it was when he had to appease his superior like a good soldier should.

“Good. Now get out of my office, I have work to do.”

~~~

It didn't take Ghost long to be convinced that he was right in his hate of new things – especially young, cocky, flirtatious and pretty things like John fucking MacTavish.

The kid carried himself with so much certainty that it seemed to grate at Ghost’s nerves. He couldn’t help but be annoyed that this whelp refused to be humble in his achievements. He was annoyed that they were achievements that he had every right to be proud of. It pissed him off, that this FNG so shamelessly flaunted his skill around and still obviously looked for praise from his superiors.

He always seemed to be looking for praise, especially from Ghost, and particularly since he'd made it clear that he wasn't planning on giving the kid the one thing he wanted. Every bullet that hit the bullseye on the shooting range, every perfectly executed move on the sparring mats, every improved score on the obstacle course, and Ghost knew that the sergeant would be raising his head to find him. He was like a puppy learning new tricks, looking for a treat every time he did something right. The kid wasn't put off by his blank stares or unimpressed grunts either –  often finding some way to improve his already near-perfect performance in training, just to do it all over again. Ghost couldn’t lie, he saw the Scot’s name approaching his own records and sweat just a little more each time. The sergeant was determined, if nothing else.

It was almost endearing. But not quite enough for Ghost to want to put up with him.

Especially not when the kid started flirting.

At first, it started with comments subtle enough that Ghost wasn't sure if the kid was actually flirting or just trying to flatter him. It took a while for him to build up to that tone filled with innuendo and swagger, the change slow enough that he didn’t even realize until Price was the one to cut it off in the middle of a goddamn mission. Soap had, of course, stopped running his mouth – for that mission at least.

It didn’t stop him from starting up again once they got to exfil, on their way back to base, or on every other goddamn mission.

What’s worse was that Ghost couldn’t ignore it, or tune it out now. It was constant, incessant. It seemed like any time he gave the kid enough attention to tell him off, he only ever bounced back with more energy. Like a stray puppy being shown half an ounce of kindness for the first time, regardless of the fact that Ghost knew for a fact that Soap was well-liked around base.

If he was really that starved for positive attention, he could’ve gone anywhere else.

But no. He always seemed to be chasing after Ghost.

~~~

“On your six, you're good to keep moving Soap.”

“No place I'd rather have you, Lt,” the sergeant purred, a flash of a smirk all Ghost could see as he swept the next hallway with a quick glance. “Though you could stand to get a bit closer.”

The innuendo in his voice was not lost on the older man, who sighed with exasperation. “There's only a few reasons why I would have any intention of getting closer to you, and finding out what's in your pants is not one.”

“I'm sure you already know what I'm working with though, don't ya?”

Ghost gave a barely-there growl. “Focus, MacTavish.”

“I am, I am. I'm just saying, public showers don't really give much room for privacy-”

“We already know about your staring problem.”

“I don't stare, I take glances. Not gonna make the lads uncomfortable.”

“Only me, then?”

“Are you saying that you wouldn't gut me if I made you uncomfortable?”

“Not much use to me if you're dead.”

“Sure, but it doesn't stop you from havin’ me run laps til I puke.”

… the kid had him there. He'd done plenty of similar things to plenty of people for lesser things – he didn't appreciate prying eyes at the best of times, and especially not when he was quite literally bared to the world. There was a reason why he only took showers late at night, or with the company of a select few people if he had to. The “select few” that, for better or for worse, was the team that he trusted the most. Which included Soap. 

Either way, if he did know what the kid had hanging between his legs, it wouldn't matter. He wasn't going to do anything about it.

“Focus, kid,” he gritted out. “Or I’ll make sure you lose your lunch when we get back to base.”

A quiet huff of a laugh, and he could see just another hint of Soap’s grin.

“Yes, sir.”

~~~

After months, he thought that the kid’s interest in him would fade, just like Ghost’s annoyance with him – but no. No, of course not.

Soap was still just as eager as ever for Ghost’s approval, and he couldn’t even help the way that he gave into it so often. He found himself, begrudgingly, nodding in the sergeant’s direction when he looked towards Ghost with that smirk of his, wide eyes hopeful and seeking out the nearest worthy source of praise.

It was… charming, at least, to see the way that he lit up. Ever eager to please, and especially so whenever it came to his lieutenant.

Ghost didn’t understand it.

The more time he had to think about it, the less it seemed to make sense. If it was a sexual craving that the sergeant had, there was no end of opportunities and options for him. If Soap wanted someone to toss him around there were more than enough brutes around to do that – if he wanted someone warm and willing to fuck into there was no lack of needy holes either. If, by some chance, it happened to be something about Ghost’s age, his seniority – well, Price was right there, infinitely more likeable.

Maybe he was just a challenge for the sergeant to conquer. Maybe Soap just couldn’t help but aim for the unattainable. 

Whatever the kid's reasons, Ghost  was starting to struggle denying that he was at all affected by it. The flirting, Soap's constant need for praise, the way that he had stayed getting so comfortable pushing into Ghost's space and bumping shoulders with him…

Part of him still couldn't believe that he was allowing it all. Sure, he had tried to discourage the flirting at first, but that hadn’t done anything when he responded to it often enough with jokes and banter of his own, as dark and bloody as it might be. Now… he couldn't even refute the fact that he had been flirting back –  in small, sporadic moments, at least. But it was enough to see the way it affected Soap.

Any hint of interest from Ghost had the Scot pushing for more, eyes bright and focused in a way that was rare to see outside of the sergeant's bloodthirst during missions, a wild grin splitting his features. The slightest hint of any reciprocation seemingly had the man chomping at the bit, over-eager and pushing closer whenever the two were in close enough quarters for it.

It made Ghost wary. If not the fact that his subordinate only seemed to be getting more and more interested in him by the day, then the fact that at some point, Ghost had started letting his guard down. He had started to… enjoy the attention. He had to admit that it had been a while since anybody had shown him any sort of interest that wasn't just a passing curiosity. He wasn't sure that anybody had paid him the sort of constant, endlessly focused sort of attention that Soap had been since the day he arrived.

No one could blame him for getting attached to the sergeant, though. Even Price had been giving the man some special treatment – at least when they were off duty. It didn’t matter if Ghost allowed him some rakish comments here and there.

It didn’t matter if Ghost got more relaxed and comfortable around him, or if he was suddenly searching the kid out in a crowd every time that he got dragged out to spend time with the team and the men that they worked with.

It didn’t matter if Soap told the others that only Ghost could call him Johnny, or if he had somehow, somewhere, turned into Ghost’s sergeant.

It didn’t mean anything. 

It didn’t.

It was just the effects of being a close-knit team.

That’s what he had to reassure himself of damn near every other night, staring at the ceiling and pointedly ignoring the mess he had made of his own hand.

~~~

It had been damn near half a year since Soap had joined the team, and Ghost was starting to wonder what would break first.

His pride, Price’s patience, or Soap’s skull.

With how things were currently going, it wasn’t looking good for the last option. Ghost watched as Soap’s head pinged off of a metal pipe, growling under his breath and shifting on his feet. Soap was at least protected by his helmet, but he knew that the man’s neck would be feeling the impact by the end of the day.

He watched, helpless, frustration bubbling up in his throat, as Soap’s attacker took advantage of his momentary stun to pin him down under the man’s weight. The man was just a touch too late to be able to properly pin the Scot’s hands to his sides, but it was enough-

A knife slid over the sergeant’s throat and Ghost huffed, calling off the drill.

Soap, who had been struggling under the “enemy” that had pinned him, audibly groaned and let his head fall back to the ground.

“Need to be better than that, MacTavish,” he growled through the radio.

He saw a flash of pale teeth as the sergeant silently snarled, but he eventually struggled to his feet in all his gear. “Away n’ bile your heid,” he spat, voice filled with more vehement acid than even Ghost had expected. “You’ve been havin’ us run this fuckin’ drill for hours, Ghost! You can’t expect us to do it perfectly every time!”

Ghost, for his part, just stared at the screen that he was watching, outside of the building that they had been using for this drill. It was as close as they could get to a copy of the building that they’d be storming in no more than a few days now, giving the men as much time as possible to practice their entry, to find any blind spots. Without Ghost physically there to rant at, Soap simply started pacing, hands curled into angry fists that didn’t seem to be coming undone anytime soon.

After a moment of silence, he saw Soap open his mouth, heard the beginning of what was probably another round of insults, and cut him off.

“If you can’t keep up with a few hours of drills, sergeant, then you’re sure as hell not going to be able to keep up with the real thing.”

“That’s not what I fuckin’ said-”

“You have to be able to do it perfectly, every time. No fucking excuses.”

“I was doing it perfectly yesterday! You’re the one that keeps fuckin’ resetting us, when we capture the target every time-”

Ghost huffed, cutting him off once again. “Watch your tone with me, Soap.” At this point there were a few of the men that were giving Soap incredulous looks – for good reason. There were only a few people that had the balls to talk back to Ghost. Fewer still that he'd allow to get away with it, regardless of rank. One of those was Price, who most everyone knew had history with Ghost.

Soap didn’t have that excuse though. People had taken note of the flirting that came from the sergeant, the general closeness that the two had. But they had to be getting nervous – Ghost still had limits to what he would put up with, surely.

“Go fuck yourself,” Soap snarled. “Sir.”

They were still on an open channel. All of the men, whether they were in the room with Soap or not, could hear him ranting at Ghost. It seemed like a lot of them had stilled, glancing at either the Scot himself or their radios, as if they could reach through the device to throttle the sergeant that was supposed to be leading them into the incoming mission.

Ghost took a deep breath, his mind slipping back to the conversation that he had with Price months ago now. They really were all insubordinate bastards, weren’t they?

“MacTavish,” he growled. The sound seemed to make even Soap freeze this time, like he had only just realized that he had fucked up.

He saw the man swallow, throat working on the screen that Ghost was still watching closely. A moment passed, then another, before Soap grit his teeth. “Sir.”

Ghost sneered behind his mask, glad that he was the only one watching the drills by now. He knew that he’d been pushing the men far harder than technically necessary, but they needed to be perfect. The brass had apparently been chasing the fucker that they were supposed to capture for years. If they failed their mission now, him and whatever had the higher-ups’ panties all twisted around would be in the wind once again, and it would be their heads on the line.

They had to be successful, and Soap had to keep himself and his team safe.

“I’m pulling you off of the capture team,” he said bluntly, watching as Soap’s eyes went wide.

“Ghost- sir, I’m-”

“Gaz will have to take over, you can be overwatch for Price and I.”

“Ghost-”

“Going to keep talking back, MacTavish? Or am I going to have to throw your stubborn ass on latrine duty for good fucking measure?” He finally snapped – stopping the kid in his tracks. He watched as Soap’s face went pink, and then red. He looked humiliated, embarrassed for having been told off in such a harsh way, by the lieutenant that he was usually so close with.

Ghost watched his expression tick through emotions until Soap turned sharply on his heel and marched out of the building.

“No, sir,” the sergeant mumbled eventually. “I’ll let Gaz know.”

“Good lad,” he said, sarcasm in his voice light and cutting.

He watched Soap step out of the building, face nearly flaming red, before his attention turned to the other cameras. There was still more work to be done.

~~~

Ghost was going to have to work a lot more on the drills, getting Gaz all caught up on the progress that the team had made thus far. It admittedly probably wouldn’t take too much – Gaz had always been quick on the uptake, and with the rest of the men that he would be leading already knowing their places, it was just a matter of making sure that Gaz knew the details of their objective.

Of course, no plan survived contact with the enemy, but the preparation would be well worth it regardless.

By the end of the day, he was craving a glass of bourbon to ease him into sleep, and maybe a chance to check in with his sergeant. Despite the way that he had pushed at Ghost, he didn’t want Soap to stay upset – he didn’t want him to be distracted while they were on such a high-profile op.

The hallways were quiet by the time that he was making his way towards his own room. Most people were gathering in the mess hall, or rushing that direction.

So, when he felt eyes following him down the hall, he felt his spine stiffen. There was no real reason to expect trouble on base, but it had happened before.

He wasn’t sure whether to relax or not when he finally turned around outside of his own door and saw none other than Johnny approaching. After the scene he had made earlier, and the kid’s history of having a temper that got him in trouble more often than not, he wasn’t sure if he should expect a fight or not.

“Soap,” he said, eyeing the sergeant up and down. Ghost was almost sure that Soap wouldn’t try throwing a punch, but he’d seen him do plenty of reckless, petty shit before.

The more he took in though, the more he was convinced that he didn’t need to worry about that. Not with how Johnny was shifting on his feet, eyes not quite meeting his own. He looked… shy, really, which wasn’t helped by the way that his face started to flush red the longer that the Scot clearly struggled to get something out.

“Sir, I- just tryin’ to-” a dry swallow and a nervous laugh, out of character for the brash sergeant. “I made an ass outta myself earlier, didn’t I?”

He raised an eyebrow, knowing that Johnny would be able to read his face well enough to tell. “You only just realizing that, kid?”

Somehow, his flush burned brighter, just like it had on the screen Ghost had been watching earlier. “I- no, sir, just thought- maybe you’d wanna help me, aye? Show me how to follow orders?”

It took a moment for Ghost to process the edge of flirtation in his voice, watching the way that Soap bit his lip, staunchly refusing to look up at him for more than a moment at a time. The thought of the sergeant flirting with him, after the scene earlier… he wasn’t sure if this was his way of trying to apologize, or to keep the peace between them, but it had him huffing an unexpected laugh.

He let his eyes rake up and down the sergeant’s form once again, noting the way that he seemed to be standing in a loose parade rest. As if he was expecting to come straight to his lieutenant’s bedroom and receive his punishment there, left at the mercy of whatever the fuck Ghost decided to do to him.

Somehow, that was the thought that had him breaking, giving up the reins to that hungry thing that haunted him. He stepped closer, lip already curling into a sneer under the mask.

“Is that what you want, kid? Someone to show you how to use that overactive cock of yours? Because you clearly aren’t thinking with the head up here,” he said meanly, flicking Soap’s forehead with a none-too-gentle finger.

It had the Scot jolting slightly, eyes wide as he sputtered, mouth popping open and sputtering uselessly for a few moments. “I- that’s no-”

“Isn’t it? Why else have you been flirting so hard, trying to get in my bed?” Ghost laughed at the deer-in-the-headlights look that the kid gave him, that hunger in his chest roaring higher in response. 

Soap had been pursuing him for a while, hadn’t he? Dancing around him and flirting since damn near day one, never giving a damn once it became clear that Ghost wasn’t going to stop him.

Ghost had been holding back for long enough. If Soap was really so interested, he could give him what he wanted – a taste at least.

“If you want it so bad, you’re going to have to ask nicely. I don’t have time for a disobedient pup, I don’t want any of the shit from today,” he sneered.

He watched as Soap’s mouth closed, and opened, gaping like a stranded fish, his flush burning over his features in a gradually brighter shade of red, until it was trailing down the neck of his shirt and all the way up to his ears, damn near glowing with his own shame.

After a few moments of silence, he sighed – he was almost sure that Soap wouldn’t stop his flirting, but he really didn’t have the time or patience to sit down and train the kid to what he wanted. Not tonight. Turning back towards his door with the intent of stepping away, he stopped in his tracks when he felt a hand grabbing at his arm.

It had him just barely turning, tension in his back and shoulders winding tighter, giving Soap a look full of disdain – even for as close as they were, Ghost wasn’t the most welcoming to any sort of demanding touch, and the kid knew that. With the way that he was squirming, he was sure that Johnny was thinking the same damn thing.

He was about to cut the silence and demand Soap to explain what the hell he was doing, when the kid slowly sank to his knees in front of him. Head bowed, once again avoiding eye contact, perhaps unfamiliar with this kind of submission. The sight had arousal slamming through him, cock filling out in what felt like seconds, fast enough that he nearly swayed with the rush of blood moving south. He had to pray that the hallway remained empty, because there would be no hiding how fucking hard he was.

Ghost wondered if the kid had ever let anyone else take over for him, or if Soap was the brash type that didn’t let anybody else take control of what he received. He couldn’t deny the possessiveness scraping out his insides at the thought, hoping it was the latter – Soap looked fucking delicious on his knees, hands shyly gripping at the loose fabric of Ghost’s pants. He didn’t want to share this view with anyone else.

Johnny’s eyes finally peeked up at Ghost, blue and sweet and clearly so fucking desperate. It had the Brit having to swallow back a low groan, running a gloved hand through the sergeant’s hair, gently tugging his head back until Soap’s eyes slid closed and he bared his throat so willingly, like a blood sacrifice at an altar.

Ghost was no god, but he couldn’t help how close he felt to it when he patted Soap’s cheek, a silent demand for him to get on with it.

Those eyes once again opened, fixated on him now. “P-please- show me? I can be good, sir. I wanna be good for you.”

It drew a deep hum from him, petting over Soap's hair a few more times before stepping away, leaving him bereft, uncertainty and a particular sort of fear flickering through his expression before Ghost answered.

“You want to be good for me, huh?” He almost laughed at the eager, vehement nod that Soap gave, wide eyes fixed on him, taking in every detail of what he said. “Go and get yourself cleaned up, then. Take a shower, I want you looking pretty for me, and I expect you to be back here in an hour.”

Soap nodded again, but stayed seated on his knees – watching him until Ghost felt his cock throb with the realization that the kid was waiting to be dismissed, like a good little soldier.

“Off you go, sergeant,” he said. “Don't be late.”

He watched as Johnny shot to his feet and damn near scrambled down the hallway in the direction of his room.

Ghost opened the door to his own room, pushing down the fond feeling swarming in his chest. He had his own preparations to make.

~~~

Johnny was there exactly an hour later, standing in front of Ghost’s door like he wasn’t sure whether to act casual or just as nervous as he was. The result was much like a puppy being made to hold back from their favorite treat, practically shaking as his eyes flicked between Ghost’s still-masked face and the sliver of his room that he could see through the door.

His hair was still slightly damp, wearing a clean white shirt and grey jeans that clung to the well-defined muscles of his thighs, black boots with thicker soles than even their usual combat boots. It had him standing a bit taller against Ghost than normal, almost eye-to-eye.

He looked good, Ghost had to admit. Still, he cocked an eyebrow as he glanced up and down the length of the sergeant’s body as if he was debating letting him in or not, giving Soap a few more moments to squirm in place.

Then he stepped back into the comfort of his room, leaving the door open in silent invitation. 

It was a sweet delight, to see how nervous the kid was as he stepped into the room like he wasn’t sure he should actually be there.

Of course, he really shouldn’t be – not for the reasons that he was. Ghost shouldn’t be letting his direct subordinate sneak into his room, shouldn’t be about to strip him down to nothing, shouldn’t be wanting to devour him whole. But unfortunately for the morals of the situation, he didn’t care. He’d already paid his dues in the time spent waiting for Soap’s interest to pass, always being pushed and prodded by the brat in front of him, and it was about time that he collected his debt.

Soap barely turned away from Ghost in order to close the door as quietly as he could behind him, but it was enough for Ghost to pounce.

In seconds the door had been slammed closed as he yanked his mask off of his head and shoved Soap against the wood to kiss the lights out of him. It wasn’t gentle or sweet – all teeth and tongue, biting until he could taste blood, licking it out of Soap’s mouth until they were both groaning quietly.

He felt the way that Soap seemed to particularly enjoy having his lip tugged at, just enough to hurt, just enough to widen the little cut that Ghost’s teeth had opened in his skin. It had Soap’s breaths escaping in little pants, whining as nervous hands came up to clutch as the lieutenant’s sides. Part of Ghost was tempted to tell him off, to order the kid to keep his hands at his sides while he ravaged him, but he didn’t want to push too much. Not yet.

Instead, he gave them a few moments before pulling back with a low growl. Soap already looked fucking dazed, eyes taking half a second to focus on his face – Ghost watched carefully as his eyes widened in shock, taking in his face for the first time that wasn’t spent struggling with blood loss and sleep deprivation.

He saw the kid open his mouth as if he was about to say something, and dropped a hand to instead grind the heel of his palm into the bulge between Soap’s legs. He didn’t need to hear whatever shit the Scot would come up with about his features, compliments or otherwise.

He was using this opportunity to both treat himself to the temptation that Johnny had presented for far too long, and to get some payback for the insubordinate behavior from earlier.

“I’m not letting you off so easy, sergeant,” he growled in response to Soap’s startled moan, leaning in close to practically breathe the words straight into his ear, shifting out of reach when the kid tried to turn his head and steal another kiss. “You still made a goddamn scene earlier. You think that shit reflects well on either of us?”

Soap choked on another moan as Ghost pressed onto his cock all the harder, shaking his head wordlessly.

Ghost tsked at him, teeth bared in a grimace of a smile. “No, it doesn’t. You’re lucky I didn’t come and drag you out of that drill myself. Should’ve dragged you through the mud for talking to me like that, especially in front of everyone else.”

Squirming, hips giving a feather-light thrust up into his hand, the Scot whined. “I- I’m- fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Didn’t mean to tell me to go fuck myself? Really?”

“I didn’t mean it-”

“I don’t believe that either.”

“I’m-” he watched as Soap’s mouth dropped open, panting for a moment, before he shook himself back into the moment. “I’m sorry, sir!”

Ghost couldn’t even help the way that he snorted at that. “Sorry for what?”

The sergeant flushed, that pink quickly blooming over his face and down his neck, where Ghost couldn’t see. He’d follow the color in a moment, but he needed to make sure Johnny knew his place.

“I- I’m sorry for talking back to you,” he panted, hips rolling against Ghost’s hand in earnest now, apparently not minding the fact that he was being rubbed off through his pants.

However, he did mind when Ghost took his hand away.

Soap whined pitifully, bodily leaning his weight against the lieutenant, body arching to try and replace that pressure.

It had Simon snorting, sneering at the other. “Yeah, it sure looks like you need someone to teach you how to use your cock. Are you always this pitiful? Look at you, how do you ever satisfy anyone if you’re just looking to get yourself off, huh?”

Christ, the way that Johnny keened at that was beautiful, teeth baring in some sort of snarl. His face twisted, like he wasn’t sure whether to be turned on or offended at the insinuation, head ducking forward as his hips drove forward just one more time before stilling.

“S-show me how, then…”

“That a request or a demand, sergeant?”

A pause, and he saw the peek of the man’s tongue as he licked at his lips. “A- it’s a request, sir.”

“Good boy. Do you know how to ask properly?”

A harsh swallow, and Johnny glanced up at him again with wide eyes. “I… show me how… sir?”

Ghost chuckled meanly – his boy was fuckin’ cute, when he wasn’t being a brat. He’d been pushing at Ghost’s boundaries for ages now, pulling and prodding like he was some sort of interesting puzzle that he could take apart just for the hell of it. It was about time that he learned that there were consequences for his actions.

“Almost there, kid. Just need one more thing.”

For that, Johnny tilted his head to the side, eyes wide and curious, if not cautious. Good. He knew that Ghost wasn’t going to be nice to him, then.

Still, he probably wasn’t expecting for the lieutenant to grab a handful of his hair in a firm grip and yank his head back, forcing his entire body to bend with it, until Ghost was able to kick his knees out from under him and send him to the floor.

Johnny landed heavily, a whine yanked from his throat. The sound just made the older man smile, not even bothering to hide it.

“There you go,” he cooed. “That’s better. Now, what do you want?”

It took a couple of breaths for Soap to respond, blinking rapidly a couple of times before he once again focused on the man standing over him, dark eyes staring down at him in expectation. Slowly, he shuffled his posture until he was kneeling more comfortably, before he recreated the pose that he had taken just outside in the hallway an hour before. Hands gently grasping at Simon’s sweatpants now, gripping but not pulling at the fabric, careful to not take more than he was allowed.

“Please, sir… show me how to make you feel good?”

That, finally, had Ghost groaning quietly, running a hand through the kid’s hair. “That’s a good lad, Johnny. Asking all polite like that, what a perfect thing you are. If only you could stay so good for me all the time.”

“I could, if you’d give me the chance to,” the kid snapped back, before it seemed like he immediately regretted it.

Ghost leered at him with a smirk that was more bared teeth than a smile. “That so, huh?”

“S-sir…”

“Is this not enough of a fuckin chance for you, MacTavish?”

“It is! Wait-”

As Ghost moved to step away, Soap just gripped harder onto his sweatpants. It stopped the older man in his tracks for just a moment, before the sergeant audibly swallowed at the utterly unimpressed look he was leveled with, and Soap slowly released his grip entirely.

Ghost snorted, and turned just to step towards the bed to sit at the edge of it. There, he leaned over to grab the bottle of lube that had been slowly being emptied for the last few months. He knew what he wanted, and he intended on getting it, one way or another.

“You know how to use your fingers properly, kid?”

Soap watched him from his place on the floor, staring at the bottle of lube with wide eyes. “A-aye sir, I know what I’m doing, I can prep myself-”

“That’s not what I asked,” Ghost cut him off. “I asked if you knew how to use them properly. Know how to prep someone else?”

He watched, pleased as that near-constant flush darkened even further. Ghost could’ve sworn that the bulge in Soap’s jeans had twitched even through the thick fabric. After a moment though, he nodded harshly and straightened his spine as if he had received orders from Price himself.

“Yes, sir. I know how to do that.”

“Good.” Ghost tossed the bottle of lube in his direction, shuffling a bit to get his sweatpants off. He’d gone without anything underneath, knowing exactly how this night was going to go from the get-go – and he enjoyed the light inhale of surprise that Soap gave him in return, his reaction sweeter than anything.

Then he propped one heel up on the frame of the bed, leaning back just enough to be able to show off his hole. It’d been a while since he’d gotten any sort of action like this – not many people expected a man like Ghost to want to bend over for them. Not that he did want to. He was still the one purely in control here, and they both knew it – Ghost could trust that Johnny would remain just as eager to please as he ever was.

He crooked a finger at the Scot still kneeling politely on the ground in front of the bed, gesturing him closer.

“Get your mouth to work, too,” he ordered, leaning back and stripping his shirt off. Of course, Johnny traced the movement with his eyes, before he finally shuffled forward – crawling, like a good boy.

And once he was in front of Ghost, he hesitated for barely a breath before taking a moment to press his lips up along the underside of the older man's cock, sitting hard and slowly throbbing against the cut of Ghost's hip. Johnny's expression was almost fucking reverent, eyes wide and awed as he took in the sheer length and girth of the thing between his legs.

“Wanna ride this thing, sometime,” Soap murmured, slicking his fingers with lube as he mouthed the words against Ghost’s cock.

The Brit swallowed the soft, pleased hum that wanted to escape him already, staring down at the sergeant between his legs. “That so, huh? Like taking it, then?”

“Aye,” he Scot murmured, lips twisting into a smirk reminiscent of his usual confidence before he dragged his tongue up to the head of his cock, nearly drooling over it for how wet he made it. “Like taking big lads, too. Seein’ what they can do t’ me.”

Ghost huffed and gripped at the stupid handle of hair that the man had, leading Soap’s mouth onto his cock properly. “Enough talking – that’s not what I meant when I told you to get your mouth to work, MacTavish. Now be a good boy and get to fuckin’ work.”

It earned him a moan, the kid looking up at the lieutenant with those pretty baby blues as his mouth was pushed down further onto Ghoset’s cock, until he could feel his throat spasming as Soap tried not to gag. Still, Ghost didn’t moan until he finally felt fingers carefully circling his hole, slow and cautious.

Slow and cautious wasn’t what he wanted though, and he let Johnny know with an impatient growl. He’d already done some of the work himself, and with how thick his own fingers were-

Sure enough, two of Johnny’s fingers slid into him at the same time that the man sucked messily at his cock. It had him sighing, head tilting back as he almost automatically relaxed around the intrusion. It was odd to not be controling the pace completely, but it was a welcome change – he'd been getting off on his own for far too long, and if he had to fuck himself to completion on just his fingers one more time, with Johnny always teasing him and riling him up? He would have gone insane. 

Now, thank god, it seemed like the Scot did actually know what he was doing. Working methodically, fingers sawing in and out, scissoring apart to stretch him slowly, brushing over his prostate every once in a while and forcing him to grit his teeth around the moans that so desperately wanted to escape him.

It wasn't the slow stop that he had wanted to avoid, but just as Ghost was going to demand another finger, he noticed the way that Johnny seemed to shift. He was twitching, his eyes closed halfway, seemingly lost in the rhythm he had found. His fingers matched the pace of the bobbing of his head, expression turning soft and loose, like his mind was slipping away.

Ghost was just about to call for him when paused again, watching a bit closer and realizing that Soap was damn near humping the air, worked up enough to desperately chase after the uncomfortable friction that his pants put on his cock. Seemed like the poor thing was desperate for it already. 

“Getting distracted there, baby?” Ghost tugged at Johnny’s hair again, meeting those blue eyes once more, groaning in time with the Scot’s moan. “Gonna add another finger? Still got a bit to go before I’ll let you fuck me.”

A blink, and the man seemed to catch up with Ghost’s words a long second later. A hazy blink, two, and then the man paused for just a moment – sliding his fingers back out to reapply a bit of lube to his fingers before three slowly pushed in, this time.

“Good boy,” Simon rumbled with a smirk pulling at the scars on his face. “Sweet thing, I bet that I could just leave you like this, couldn’t I? Let you suck my cock for hours, a good little warmer for me.”

In response, the kid pulled back until Ghost’s cock was just barely pressing at his gag reflex – dropping his mouth as wide open as his jaw could handle, just to give Ghost a glimpse of the view of where his throat was being fucked open. 

It had him groaning once more, a filthy smirk playing on Ghost's lips when he saw just how desperate Johnny looked – and he knew that look, that pleading, hopeful look – blue eyes wide and 

pitiful, practically pleading to give him the attention and praise that the man so desired. 

“Keep going, pup,” he said simply, nearly baring his teeth with the feral need to see Johnny fall apart. Especially when the kid whimpered, mouth too full to complain or properly beg, clearly frustrated about not getting even as much as a proper acknowledgement.

But he continued working regardless, mouth hot and slick over Ghost's cock, fingers working in and out, stretching, scissoring apart, until Ghost decided to have some mercy on the lad.

He tugged on Johnny’s hair, humming. “Think that’s enough, baby?”

“I- aye, sir, should be,” the Scot stuttered out, eyes suddenly going wide and almost nervous now. 

“Then get up here and fuck me, hm? Got me all ready for you.”

“I- fuck, Ghost-”

“What is it, hm?” The Brit tugged at his hair again, and the sergeant squirmed with an outright whimper. “You wanted me to teach you how to be good, so be good.”

Soap squirmed, clearly trying to stay still, body twitching where he sat on his knees.

Ghost let go of his hair and motioned him up, which Soap obeyed after just a moment.

“Strip, boy,” he ordered, using that voice that Soap had so shamelessly complimented – lusted after – before. Always teasing that he was far more interested in following the command in his voice in other ways than what was ever appropriate for their mission comms. Always saying how much the ‘lieutenant voice’ made him want to act out. He wondered how Soap would react to it like this.

He wasn’t disappointed, though it wasn’t the ‘acting out’ that Soap had once teased. It was more of a shudder, his eyes so clearly going hazy and melting into obedience once again.

Soap obeyed so beautifully, too – starting with his shirt, before unbuttoning those sinfully tight jeans that had to be somewhat painful around the shape of his obviously throbbing erection, the tent in his underwear nearly springing out the moment it was released. The Scot even had to fucking shimmy his way out of those pants, pushing them down the shape of his thick thighs until they could slide off more comfortably from his knees, though he audibly whimpered when he realized that he had forgotten to take his boots off first, moving to grapple with those.

Ghost watched him, his expression somewhere between amused and indifferent to Soap's struggle. He just settled into his pillows, settling himself into a position that would be pleasant enough to be fucked in – he knew that he took a while to be properly worked up until he could come. He doubted that Johnny would be able to last that long, but that wasn’t a concern for now. He would train the whelp to last longer.

He could pretend that he wasn’t planning on keeping Johnny close later – as the bed dipped with the addition of the Scot’s weight, Ghost couldn't help but let his thoughts run wild with all the ideas that he had in store. There were so many things he could do to absolutely ruin the man coming to hover over him, everything from Johnny's sternum to the tips of his ears flushed red.

“G-Ghost, can I- I just need a minute-”

“No,” he said, voice flat with his impatience. “We don’t stop unless you need to.”

He stared down at Johnny for that – making sure that Soap understood what he was saying. He wasn’t going to force him to continue if he truly didn’t want to. But the look on his face was anything but discomfort.

“Ghost- I can’t- I’ll come-” Despite his words, the Scot was still crawling up to hover over Ghost, to kiss the man again, whimpering at the slightest hint of friction on his cock as the head brushed over Ghost’s ass. The Brit huffed, one hand dropping to guide the Scot’s dick to his hole as he met those pretty blue eyes.

“That’s the point, isn’t it? You wanted to fuck me, so fuck me,” he growled back, before Ghost clenched his legs around the man’s waist and pulled him forward, forcing Johnny to sink into him.

The stretch was fucking delicious – even with three fingers and plenty of time being fucked in them, Soap had a solid girth to him. It made Ghost burn with the sensation. Under the sound of Soap’s gasps and whines as he desperately tried to not immediately blow his load, Ghost found himself moaning quietly.

It was almost impressive that Soap managed to last all the way until he bottomed out – pressing all the way inside if Ghost for just a moment before he choked on a gasp and shuddered, damn near folding over himself as he gave a sound that was somewhere between a sob and a moan. His hips jerked uncontrollably, never quite pulling out, making Ghost himself jolt with the too-soon-too-much feeling that came with it. 

Ghost felt the man’s cock throb with every pulse of cum he gave – poor bastard must’ve been pent up with how much he seemed to be fucking into Ghost’s guts. 

Soap was babbling too, eyes half closed and his face pinched in pleasure  – or pain, he wasn’t sure. It was mostly nonsense – “fuck” and “please” and “yes” mumbled at random, around the keens that kept pouring out of him. But then one word caught Ghost’s attention in particular.

“F-fuck- please- pl-please- da- hah- daddy- fuck, yes-”

It had a bolt of heat shooting through Ghost’s gut, unexpected but undeniably heady. How long had Soap been harboring that thought, that filthy little fantasy? It made him growl, reaching up to grab a handful of the man’s mohawk as he fucked himself down on the man’s cock. He wasn’t even softening yet, not even close, and Ghost intended to keep it that way.

“C’mon, stupid boy. I know you have more than that in you,” he snapped. Keep going.”

Soap lifted his head with another whimper, wet eyes meeting Ghost’s and making him feel ravenous.

With a drawn-out whine, Soap started moving once again a second later, hiccupping through a quiet sob. His face was still twisting between expressions of pain and pleasure, hips jerking unsteadily like he wasn’t sure how to fuck through the burn of too-much running through his veins. It was fucking beautiful to watch, Ghost far too pleased to see the way that the boy was falling apart so prettily .

“C’mon, boy,” he cooed. “Fuck me like you mean it- put your fuckin’ back into it, or I’ll be riding you until you’re coming dry.”

Soap shuddered at that, one jerk of his hips making Ghost choke with the spike of pleasure as his prostate was slammed into by that thick length. “Ngh- fuck, daddy, please-”

“Be good,” Ghost moaned, left breathless when Soap thrust in again, movements still unsteady and jarring. “Make me cum like-” he was cut off for a moment with another thrust, before he gasped quietly and continued. “Like a good boy.”

“Yes,” Soap whined, head dropping to Ghost’s chest, a moan breaking through the pained sounds that he'd been making, his movements starting to get faster, more consistent, the overstimulated pain obviously starting to turn into pleasure once again. “Please- wanna- I wanna be good for you, please daddy, I-”

Ghost tugged at his hair, just to pull Soap away from his chest and kiss him. He tasted salty tears, the metallic flavor of blood, and groaned as he lapped at the lip that Soap had split with his own biting. “Fuckin’ hell, kid- yeah, you’re doing good, making me feel- fffffu ucking brilliant,” he grit out, head thrown back with clenched teeth when Johnny finally found his prostate properly and started bullying it relentlessly.

It had his toes curling, groans falling from his lips as his cock jerked and started to liberally dribble precum, spreading a little puddle of milky-clear liquid on his heaving belly. He cursed viciously, having to fight to keep his voice from breaking around a cry, before he felt Johnny’s pace stutter with that tell-tale sob of desperation – the kid undoubtedly close to his orgasm once again.

It had Ghost snarling up at him, teeth bared like an angry dog, nails raking down the kid’s back hard enough to surely leave likes of red scored into his skin.

“Don’t you dare fuckin’ stop,” he snapped, even as his eyes rolled back slightly from the pleasure that kept spiking through him with every thrust. This was the kind of sex that he liked – commanding his own pleasure, but able to lay back and take it. As much as he did enjoy topping, there was nothing like this – seeing another man sweaty, huffing, and desperate above him. “You don’t fuckin’ come until I do.”

Soap cried out, almost concerningly loud – if it hadn’t been such a whiny, nearly unrecognizable sound compared to the Scot’s usual pleasant rumble, Ghost would’ve slapped a hand over his mouth. As it was, he just sneered and finally reached down to jerk himself off.

“So close already, can’t even fuckin’ touch me right- just a useless whelp, aren’t ya? I got my work cut out for me, don’t I?”

“I-I- fuck- ‘m sorry sir- just n-need it, need t’-” he cut himself off, clearly teary-eyed and once again desperate for the release that was making his shoulders start shuddering.

“Need what, baby?” Ghost felt the urgency begin building in his own gut – knew that Soap was leagues ahead of him in that regard, knew that he just needed to hear whatever was locked behind the Scot’s teeth.

Johnny just shook his head, then again as if to clear his head, eyes focusing on Ghost with a sharp, nearly panicked look. “Need t’ come, sir, please let me- please, please, I need it-”

Ghost snarled just a bit, and before Soap could even realize what was happening, Ghost had his thighs clamped around the kid’s hips, suddenly putting a halt to his punishing thrusts, only the tip of his cock still inside.

It had him gasping, pained, twitching and shuddering still as he fought to continue fucking into Ghost’s hole.

“Fuck- no, no, Ghost, please- d-daddy, please, ‘m so close, I just-”

“You already came, baby, how’s it fair that you get to come twice before I can get mine, hm?”

“I’m sorry,” Johnny nearly sobbed, thighs flexing, his weight trying to bear down onto Ghost, failing to bully his way even an inch closer. “Please let me- I’ll make you feel so good- I’ll make you come, please- I’m sorry, need to come, need to- fuck, please!”

Ghost just continued jerking himself off, strong thighs more than enough to keep Soap from moving – either in or out of him. He had the sergeant right where he wanted him, trapped between his thighs, forced to watch as his hand stripped his cock with quick strokes. He watched Soap’s eyes squeeze shut, mouth falling open with his panting and grimacing keens.

“Fuckin’ beatufiul, aren’t you? Look so fuckin’ good like this Johnny, cryin’ for me,” Ghost moaned, hand twisting on the upstroke, grinding the flat of his palm into the head of his cock.

Johnny weakly slapped at his chest and shoulder, almost tantrum-like with the way that he whined and hiccupped through his next sob. “Please, Simon, I need-”

“Ah ah,” Ghost tutted, turning breathless. The impact of his name falling from the kid’s mouth wasn’t lost on him, though he would rather swallow one of his knives than admit it. “You think it’s right for you t’ use your daddy’s name like that, baby? I thought you were going to be good for me.”

“I’m trying,” Soap gasped, his little jerking motions barely able to jostle the tip of his cock inside of Ghost. His overwhelming desperation seemed to be cooling off now though, so Ghost let his thighs relax just a touch around him, allowing Soap to fuck into him by just an inch or so. It drew a gasp out of the Scot, nails curling into Ghost’s chest where his hand had planted itself. “Need it- need t’ fuck you- need to f-fuck-”

“Need to what, Johnny?” Ghost bit his lip as his pleasure started to bubble up further, threatening to boil over. “C’mon baby, tell me what you need.”

“Need to come,” the Scot panted, as Ghost loosened his grip further, letting him rut into him properly. “Need to come in y-you.”

It had Ghost grinning meanly, hole clenching around Johnny just slightly. “Haven't you already, baby?”

“I- I know-”

“If you want to come inside me again you have to ask nicely, boy.”

Ghost almost felt bad, as Johnny chased after the barely-there friction that he could get, eyes only turning more hazy. He folded over himself until he was kissing, licking, sucking over the older man's chest, mouthing at his nipples, mumbling broken little pleas that once again he simply seemed to babble without a single proper thought behind his eyes.

“Please- fuck Si- daddy, wanna- please, lemme breed you- need to come, need t’ fuck you full- so good daddy, wanna-” a loud moan interrupted him, before his hips pistoned forward in quick movements. “need to fuckin- hah- need to fill you up, daddy, wanna keep you full, knock you up, breed you full, fuck- fuck, need t’ come inside-”

Sure enough, Ghost felt that lightning strike of arousal hit once again, and he watched as Johnny’s own rambling seemed to work him up just as much.

“Fuck,” he snarled. “Alright baby, come on, come for-”

He wasn't even finished speaking when Ghost finally let the Scot properly fuck into him. They moaned together, Soap once again desperate and rutting into him like an animal, hands scrambling as Ghost’s hips and thighs. It wasn't long until he was coming with a shout, eyes snapping shut as he came, and came, and came- Ghost watched as his eyes rolled back, nearly crossing with his pleasure.

It wasn’t until he began to slow down that Ghost finally snapped, flipping the two of them- having to plant one foot on the ground to keep them from rolling off the bed entirely. He barely let Johnny slip out of his hole before he was driving his hips down on the length now starting to go soft inside of him.

“Fuck- couldn't even get me off, huh Johnny? Didn’t even think to, selfish little pup.”

Below him now, nearly boneless and splayed out from the sudden flip of their positions, Johnny wailed as his fingertips dug into Ghost’s hips – not daring to try and stop the lieutenant from riding him into the mattress, only staring up at him with eyes that were once more leaking tears with a nearly crazed look.

“M’ sorry- please- f-fuck, I’m sorry, di’nt mean to-”

“Stupid fuckin mutt,” Ghost spat, grabbing one of Johnny’s hands and smearing it over the mess of precum that had left on his belly, before leading his hand to his cock. “Now be good and fuckin’ take it.”

Obediently, with shaky fingers, Johnny wrapped his hand around Ghost’s cock and started stroking him with slick sounds that rivaled the sound of their skin slapping together, not quite drowned out by the Scot’s whimpers.

The foreign touch was what finally threw Ghost over the edge, gritting his teeth and groaning long, low, and filthy as his gut clenched and he came over the Scot below him. It hit him like a truck, the way that it made all his muscles tense, able to feel the way that his balls drew up and his toes curled, the leg he was partially standing on turning shaky with the tension – before it went weak as his body relaxed and started to go slack with relief.

Simon gave it a few more moments for the last sparks of his orgasm to settle, and then he stood more fully so that he could manhandle Johnny into the bed, which the man took with a quiet sound of surprise and a groan. 

Those blue eyes watched him, widening in surprise when Johnny caught the way Ghost scooped up the mess beginning to dribble down one thigh and stuffed it back into his hole.

And then Ghost was once again crawling over Johnny, making him whimper and squirm in surprise – wincing when Ghost’s hand once again found his cock. 

“Si-Simon, wait, I really- I can’t go again-”

Ghost’s free hand settled at the man’s neck – not squeezing, just barely putting pressure on it. “Hush, baby. Thought you wanted to keep me full.” His other hand fumbled around the kid’s flaccid cock, though with his youth, it was unlikely to stay that way for too long. He used his fingers to guide the way and ease the stretch, forcing Johnny back into him. The Scot gave a choked sound, one that Ghost swallowed as he leaned over him to kiss those slack lips. “Gotta keep it in me if it’s gonna take, right?”

He swore he could feel the cock inside him twitch at that, weak as it was, and grinned against Soap’s lips.

“A-aye, sir…”

“Mmm…?”

Johnny bit his lip, blowing out a slow breath.

“Y-yes daddy.”

“Good boy.”