Archive of Our Own

He kept getting glances.

Storming through the streets of Manchester, now crowded with people, he was continuously catching someone eyeing him or even plainly staring. He picked his pace up, but didn’t cast his head down. He wasn’t the one to do that.

It was late September, occasional trees you could spot in the city starting to turn brown, as if tired with the continuous rain pouring down at them. Manchester was no exception for English weather, equally as gloomy as anywhere else on the island. It wasn’t raining right now though.

Ghost was wearing long black cargos, plain fleece and a jacket in the same color, his face was covered by a medical mask. He didn't tuck himself into his clothes at the sharp wind howling through the streets, he was upright and briskly walking in his direction — to the metro station.

He took the stairs leading underground, welcomed the dim lighting and human voices echoing through the tunnels. People were passing him, their faces blurring in motion as he walked. There was a child crying, some street artist playing violin, teenage girls arguing and laughing at each other, their voices fading as he took a turn. He knew his way, he had been there before.

He boarded the metro, choosing a standing place near the back. He grabbed the metal bar for stability, ignoring a handle hanging right next to his hand. He was too tall.

Military habits took over, he couldn’t help but shim every person that entered the metro as the ride went on. He studied mostly the clothing, palms and baggage, unconsciously looking for threats, alert. He didn’t even realize that, he just couldn’t help it. It was so deeply engraved into him, the routines and habits.

He was tired, didn’t have much time to sleep lately. He only arrived at his home… at his flat a few hours ago, and given that his flight from the base was at 2 am, he didn’t even go to bed.

He still wondered if this was a good idea, if it was reasonable. So many things could derail and fuck up. Ghost was, again, doing something completely new for him, putting himself in danger.

Namely, he and Soap decided to take leave for a month. Together.

When Ghost declared it to Price, he was prepared for uncomfortable questions and brow quirks, but when the captain smirked and laughed it off, he couldn’t deny that he was very relieved. And that's how he ended up sandwiched in the Manchester metro rushing towards the airport.

Ghost glanced at his watch. He was ahead of time, precisely by 20 minutes. Soap’s plane was scheduled to arrive at 12. Ghost fought the urge to check the Flight Radar and glued his eyes to the emergency exit lights occasionally flashing outside the metros window.

Two men boarding the metro assessed him with their eyes, their lively conversation fading and falling quiet all the way until the next stop at which they left. Some woman was constantly staring at him, not even trying to hide it. When he made eye contact with her, she didn’t maintain it though. He knew that she pretended to be busy with her phone. Ghost sighed quietly and leaned against the wall.

Already at the airport, he headed straight to the arrivals section. He still had fifteen minutes of waiting. Simon checked his emails, once again looking through flat bills that were near zero for the last five years. That’s how long it has been since he has last been there. Only basic rent costs were being taken from his account. Not like he minded.

When the first people started to leave through the arrivals gate, Ghost stood up and crossed his arms, waiting. He was surprisingly calm. It wasn’t that big of a deal because he last saw Johnny yesterday, but he couldn’t deny the stereotype of airport meets that he developed. People were usually very clingy, tearing up after finally seeing their loved ones after a long time. Just as he thought about that, he saw a woman with her luggage that was apparently meeting up with her boyfriend, because she runned into his arms, crying. The boyfriend gave her flowers and they walked away, clinging to each other. Ghost sighed and rolled his eyes discreetly, not able to imagine himself doing the same with Soap. He definitely wasn’t the romantic and mawkish type. Johnny never seemed to mind it though. Ghost found it cringe and unnecessary, showing affection in public like that.

As more people passed by, Simon carefully looked for his boyfriend, and he finally saw him in the crowd. He was still in his military uniform, a smile on his face as he saw him. He was carrying a big bag and a backpack. Ghost maintained eye contact the whole time Johnny took to get to him.
„LT!”
„Johnny,” they settled for a simple dap as a greeting, Soap also bumped his shoulder as he would always do. They had a conversation about public affection past them.

„How was your flight? Here, this way,” said Simon as he watched Soap smile at him. They headed back towards the metro station.
„Oh, you know… slow. A chopper would make that track in one. Also, had a baby crying half the time next to me. You see, they say that cats aren’t allowed on board because they are too disturbing, but I’ve never heard a cat make sounds half as loud as this baby. Wonder how its vocal cords still exist,” Soap never struggled to make conversation. „If you pull off a joke starting with ’what has two legs and bleeds’ or something along those lines, I'm not talking to you anymore.”

Soap smiled and was happy to see Simon, but he couldn’t help but feel a little weird. He has never seen Ghost in a non-military environment, in normal. The definition of normal became the military to him. There was no more of ’normal’ for him outside of it. That's why what they were doing was so challenging.

Ghost smiled underneath his mask. He missed Soap. „Alright, I won’t. Want help with that?” Ghost gestured over to Soap’s bag.
„Oh, it’s nearly empty, don’t worry. Didn’t have much to take along,” Soap shook his head and scowled at Simon from underneath his hair, blue peeking through. „You didn’t have to pick me up from here, really. I’m sure I would've found my way through those tunnels… somehow,” hesitated Soap as they took another turn, passing other people. Ghost noticed that when they walked next to each other, they got even more glances.
„No problem. Was bored, I guess.” Ghost shrugged and made a pause. „The fuck they starting at?” he asked, knowing that Soap noticed the looks too.
„You,” he flashed Simon a smile and continued on walking, smug. Ghost glared at him, but it only made Soap’s smile wider.

„But really, do I have something on my face?”
„Other than this silly mask of yours, no. You could take it off by the way,” suggested Johnny, a hint of hope lingering in his voice.
„Not happening. Come on, it’s our stop over there,” Ghost cut the conversation short there as they entered the subway, relatively empty as it was the first stop. Soap found space for his baggage and they ended up standing in front of the doors. The metro was crowded.

„Doesn’t this feel… weird to you? You know, us, in the metro… damn, I don’t even remember when was the last time I saw you in civvies,” scoffed Soap, speaking a bit quieter and looking his boyfriend up and down. He couldn’t deny how well his clothes suited him though.
Ghost curved his lips in a smile, even though Johnny couldn’t see it.
„It does. Still don’t know if it was a good idea.”
„Will show, depends.”
„Depends? What do you mean?”
Soap smiled again. He was in a good mood.
„Well, depends if you can cook. And do shopping. Talk to a cashier and shit.”
Ghost looked at him like he was crazy. Of course Soap had to mess with him.
„Im not disabled, Johnny, I’m just good at my job.”
Soap chuckled at that.

They made and held eye contact, it seemed, a little too long for socially acceptable friendly standards.
„It really sucks that I can’t do what I want to do right now,” said Soap quietly so that no one could hear that, leaning toward Ghost and studying his face. He was also not used to seeing that much of him, he was glad that the usual balaclava was gone. Simon’s short blonde curls were softly falling on his forehead, he saw the whole top part of his head and some of the sides. It was much easier to read him like that, see how he reacted to things.
„Be patient,” muttered Ghost, keeping his face straight. Though, a muscle on his jaw twitched and Soap saw that, satisfied.

Johnny studied other people, how they reacted to him and Ghost. They, in fact, either stared or shot looks, just like Ghost said earlier. Soap suddenly found himself feeling odd in a uniform, as it attracted a lot of attention. He wasn’t used to it, but the attention wasn't actually unwanted. He straightened his back.

„We stand in the same way,” pointed Soap out, looking at the position of their feet and arms. They were both alert, in a stance that allowed them to react at any moment, with their right arms resting at the waist where their gun would normally be. Ghost looked down and shook his head in amusement.
„You can get out of the military but can’t get the military out of you,” he brought up a popular saying.
He didn’t change his position though.
„You got that right.”

The walk from the metro station to Ghost’s apartment was fifteen minutes. They talked the whole way, Simon mostly replying to Soap's arguments. Ghost also introduced the man to the city a little bit, they compared Manchester to Glasgow where Soap was from.
„Any places you wanna see? I can show you around,” offered Ghost as they were approaching his apartment block.
„Weren’t you last here, like, five years ago?”
„Good point. But I don’t think the city changed that much. Also, I'm pretty good at navigation,” smirked Ghost, referring to the test they recently had to pass in their unit. Simon scored the highest notes.
„Piss off,” Soap pretended to take offense.

They reached a parking lot surrounded by quite a large block of flats. Soap followed Ghost, and as they passed some cars on the way to the entrance of it, he couldn’t help but ask, „Hey, LT, never asked,” he hesitated. “Do you happen to have a car or something?”
Ghost turned his head around to look at him with a mysterious look in his eyes as he entered the code to the building.
„You’ll see,” he hinted. Soap wondered what he could mean by that while the doors made a loud buzz and Ghost opened them for him, letting him through first.
„This way,” Simon guided him to the elevator.

The hallway looked decent, it smelled of fresh paint. Ghost went quiet and pressed the 14 on the elevator.

As soon as the doors slid closed, Simon pushed Soap against the wall, ripped his mask off and kissed him, hard. Johnny didn’t expect that at all, he dropped his bag in surprise. He quickly gave the kiss back though, a grunt of approval managing to make its way past Ghost's mouth. Simon apparently couldn't wait to do that, judging by how possessively he acted.

As the elevator approached the 13th floor, they quickly drew away from each other and managed to straighten their clothes by the time it reached the 14th. When the doors opened with a chime, they saw a woman awaiting the elevator. When she saw the two of them, the look on her face changed slightly, she moved to the side to let them out. Soap, trying to keep a straight face and Ghost, with his mask back on passed her quickly.

„Who should be told to be patient now,” teased Soap quietly, smacking Ghost's arm. The man ignored him and fetched a pair of keys from his pocket. The ’148’ the doors were labeled with shined silver.

They went inside, Ghost locked the doors behind them right away. Soap dumped his backpack and bag on the side and tossed his shoes off, as did Ghost.
„Make yourself at home, you’re trapped here with me for the next month,” said Ghost, leaving the entrance area and moving further inside. Soap followed after him curiously, looking around. It was weird seeing Ghost against something other than military facilities or field.

The flat was conveniently sized, rather spacious. It first struck Soap as quite empty and plain, but how else would it be if Ghost was last there five years ago? There were his bags lying around and an empty cup on the kitchen counter, indicating that he didn’t have the time to unpack yet.

The kitchen was on the left from the entrance, it looked modern with its white cabinets and black stone countertops. There was a kitchen island with two chairs on the other side of it, as well as a coffee machine and an electric stove.

The living room and the kitchen area weren’t divided by anything, it was an open space. It was bright in the room, thanks to two big windows that also led to a small balcony, framed by thick black curtains. The windows were on the right from the entrance, also providing good lighting in the kitchen and the whole living area. It was modestly furnished, with only a black leather sofa and a small TV in front of it. There was also a round coffee table and a couple of bookshelves.

„Wow, guess you weren’t joking about it being empty,” chuckled Soap. Ghost leaned against the kitchen island and watched him walk around. „I like it, it's bright.”
He moved on further into the flat, taking a look into the bathroom and leaving Ghosts’ room last to watch. It was the most personalized out of all the areas in the flat. The centerpiece of it was a large double bed lined with black sheets. There was no bedside table, so next to it laid quite the pile of books and some other items. There was also a large window, as the room was adjacent to the same wall as the living room. The curtains there were drawn though, only faint light seeping through them. There was a desk with a computer and some papers on it, a dead plant on top of another pile of books. Soap recognized ’The Witcher’ among them.

„I left in a hurry last time, didn’t have time to clean up,” Ghost as always seamlessly materialized behind him, causing him to jump a little. Soap felt a hand on his waist and Ghost was hugging him from behind, a breath in his neck.

Their relationship evolved over the last half a year. They got to know each other more, they got used to each other's presence and habits. They also learned what the other liked and disliked and grew closer than ever. It was almost half a year ago when they first kissed and made the decision to be together

Soap smiled and carefully untangled himself from Ghosts’ arms. He learned that Simon could get really touchy sometimes.
„When did you even get there?” asked Soap as they went back to the living area and he leaned down for his bag.
Ghost glanced at his watch. „Three hours and forty four minutes ago,” he replied.
„That’s oddly specific.”

They decided to unpack their bags to start with something. They both saw that the flat needed some work, mostly cleaning. Everything was dusty and frozen in time. It was also lacking really basic products. Soap didn’t mind that it wasn’t really put together, not because it wasn’t his but because he just didn’t care about householding aspects. However, he saw how important it was for his boyfriend.

They agreed to go shopping. There was Tesco a couple minutes away, so just as Soap was looking for his jacket and walking around, he caught Ghost leaned against the wall, following his every move.
„Now you are staring. What is it?”
Ghost didn’t reply right away, burning holes through Soap with his eyes.
„Nothing. It’s just… unusual for me. All this,” he paused awkwardly. Johnny's eyes softened.
„Hey, don’t worry about that. Besides, it’s weird for me too, even though a wee easier.”

They went outside. Ghost searched his pockets and soon lit a cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke that swayed around his head and quickly dissolved as he walked past it. Soap watched his palm holding the cigarette and the way he shook off the ash with his thumb. His back looked even bigger when he took a drag, lifting his arm up.

Soap couldn’t believe that they were actually together, out in the real world, away from the comfort the familiar military facilities and rules gave them. Here, they threw themselves into a completely new environment and reality, and they had to find out if they could still exist in it together. If they fit. The thought of a more long term relationship, out of the 141 was now more vivid than ever.

„I could use a drink right about now,” sighed Soap, catching up to Ghost.
„Well, did you bring your ID?”
Soap glared him down.
„You suggesting something?”
Ghost scoffed at this, exhaling smoke.
„Don’t worry, I can buy you alcohol if you want.”
„I’m 33 Simon,” Johnny sighed again. He was sometimes not catching up with Ghost's humor.
„I’m older than you.”
Soap was short of words, he had to exhale and decide whether to further engage in this ridiculous argument or drop it.
„I’m not responding to this.”
„Your loss. I'm in a good mood now.”
„Well, why wouldn’t you be?” Johnny looked up at him smoking. He figured out that he had a thing for that. „We can finally go out like normal people with no camo print clothing elements,” said Soap, studying his boyfriend’s dirty-blonde hair he so rarely had an opportunity to see.

They quickly got to the Tesco, it was really quite close. With a cart pushed by Ghost they entered the shop, both clueless. Fucking shopping time.

„We should probably start with… what? We basically have nothing in that flat,” scoffed Soap and expectantly looked at Simon. The man looked ridiculous for Soap, his hands leaning on the shopping cart, the same hands that held a gun or a rifle half his life. He was used to seeing him in tac gear, civil clothes looked odd, unfamiliar… but not bad. By no means bad.

„Lets just walk around the alleys and decide what we need,” guessed Ghost and hesitantly started pushing the cart forward. Soap followed.

The shopping went quite smoothly, neither of them overthinking any choices. It was interesting though, because in the military they didn’t really have an opportunity to learn, for example, what the other liked to eat. They also found some vocabulary differences, with Soaps' Scottish nationality. However, a real discussion started when they reached the alcohol alley, an eternal battle between scotch and bourbon being picked up again. They ended up taking each of those to resolve the conflict once and for all, also a six pack of beer to have some common ground.

Soap watched his boyfriend, mesmerized, as he was asking for his cigarettes and paying. He has never seen him in a fucking supermarket before.

When they got back home, Ghost headed to the balcony to smoke and Soap curiously followed, not having an opportunity to take a good look at the view before. Ghost, in fact, had quite the view at the city center and the skyscrapers that stretched up toward the sky.
„It’s nice. I like it here,” softly approved Soap, resting against the barrier next to Ghost. Simon, invested in taking in the view, only realized that Johnny grabbed him by his neck when he was pulling him into a kiss. Soap only remembered that his lips tasted of nicotine. Simon extinguished the spent cigarette and smirked when Soap let go of him. The fact that they could do whatever the hell they wanted whenever they wanted was opening up endless interesting possibilities.

„I could get used to it, you know,” Soap smiled at him and leaned against the barrier again. Simon looked into his eyes. He liked what he saw in them.
„Me too.”

It was getting late, afternoon lighting washing over the apartment, the day palpably shorter than never ending summer sun. Ghost liked fall and winter, while Soap preferred the warm summer and spring.

Earlier in the shop they got ingredients for lasagne. It was entirely Soaps' idea, Simon only played the part of taking the right products and putting them into their cart. They both agreed that it would be reasonable if Johnny was in charge of cooking. He wandered around the kitchen, looking for any tools or cutlery.
„Do we even have, like, a fork?”

They didn’t.

Soap laughed it off and they had to make do with a spoon. The lasagne ended up being very good, a portion just big enough for the two of them. Ghost agreed to wash up and Soap used the time to take a closer look at the books he saw around the flat. He recognized a couple of them, classics like „Romeo and Juliet”, „The great gatsby” and „Pride and prejudice”, as well as some romance stories, judging by the description on the back. He also saw the whole „Witcher” series.
Soap picked up the last of the books. „You’re a fan of this?” investigated Soap, flipping a couple of pages. He hasn’t read a book since high school.
Ghost turned his head over to look at what Soap was holding. „Ah, yeah. Was bored back on my previous leave,” he tilted his head. „I’m thinking you might like it.”
„I’ll give it a try later,” Soap put the book back on the shelf. He was never a fan of reading, he much preferred films.

The fact that Simon was into romance novels and fantasy made his head spin. He had no chance of learning that other than actually going to his flat.

„Never took you for the one to read romance novels,” Soap said teasingly. He was not going to drop this topic. He had to confront his boyfriend about that, as it was completely detached from the image of him he developed.
Ghost shrugged, still washing the dishes.
„It’s interesting to follow the characters make the miserable choices they make. For instance, Romeo and Juliet were both idiots,” he concluded, drying his hands and turning around. What Ghost didn’t say out loud was that those books were the only source of romantic relationship patterns he had.

„Want a beer?” offered Ghost, opening up the fridge. He tossed Soap a can and opened up one for himself. Johnny, grateful, caught it and took a sip with a satisfied exhale.

After some more bickering and one more beer they decided to set up the wifi with the router Ghost bought earlier. The taller man was also better oriented at this kind of things, he called up the provider and wired everything. They soon also launched the small TV Ghost had and ended up playing some music in the background. By the time they planned to vacuum and clean the dust, they were already two drinks deep, fighting over the scotch and bourbon they bought. Ghost still wasn’t convinced and stood his ground, so did Soap.

„Like I said in that house in Las Almas, it tastes like dog piss,” contended Soap, ostentatiously taking a sip from his glass of scotch. They were leaning against the kitchen island, facing the window. The sun was already setting outside, basking the distant skyscrapers in a purplish glow. The sunset wasn’t, in fact, very spectacular, but it was special for Soap.

„Oh look,” he pointed towards the window with his chin. Ghost reluctantly looked away from Soap at the sunset, only to glue his eyes to his face right away. It was incredible for Simon how Soap could derive so much joy from such small things. Simon guessed that it was one of the things he liked about him the most. He also felt very safe around him, understood.

Ghost still had trouble with showing his feelings and communicating them though. It was like he wanted to transfer all his affection into words or actions, but he couldn’t. He felt so strong for Johnny and wanted to tell him that, show him the devotion he was willing to give him, but every way of doing it he could think of didn’t seem… right, enough, entire.

Maybe it had something to do with the two beers and two drinks he had, but he said,
„I’m… glad that you’re here.”

Soap blinked, surprised, and faced Simon. A soft smile creeped up his lips. He slowly touched Ghosts’ hand and held it firmly.
„Well, I’m glad to be here.”

The short silence that fell set tension in the air. Soaps thoughts were racing, he felt like a teenager all over again. He was thankful for the music channel that was playing in the background and the city sounds audible from the open window, because if it wasn’t for them, Simon could probably hear his heart pounding in his chest like crazy. He knew that Ghost wasn’t the one to talk feelings, so the fact that he was saying something like that spoke for itself.

He wanted to kiss him about it.

„You know I’m not good at this,” sighed Ghost, seeking understandment. He finished his glass in one big gulp and set it down firmly. Soap’s drink was already empty, the man's head was pleasantly buzzed, but he was by no means drunk. Ghost felt no alcohol effects, his head held the liquor much better than Soap’s.
„Oh I know. You don’t have to say anything, Simon, just… Please, don’t worry. We are supposed to relax and take a break from everything, yeah? That's why we took leave. I expect nothing,” Soap turned his voice down and moved closer. He felt a slight shift in the aura around the two of them, it seemed to swirl down, deeper, darker.

Ghost didn’t wear any kind of mask when they were alone so Soap could admire him as long as he wanted. He gladly eyed him up, taking in his handsome face and muscular body only covered with a black long-sleeve. His tattoo was peeking out of it, Soap always liked the pattern and how it looked on Simon’s pale skin.

They locked eyes. Soap felt as if his heart was going to jump out of his chest. He swallowed and carefully moved his finger on Ghosts’ hand.

„What are you thinking about..?” Soap said, very quiet. Ghost didn’t blink once.

Neither of them knew what broke the tension, but they couldn’t stand it anymore, continuously building up. Merely half a second later, Simon pinned Soap to the counter and grabbed him by his neck, the kiss aggressive and firm. He could feel how the other smiled through the kiss, returning it with passion. Oh, how much Simon wanted to do it, how long he ached to grab Soap by his stupid waist and press him against something, anything. He was all for him to take, in his apartment, available and eager. Ghost squeezed his hips so that he knew who and how was holding him. Soap’s hands were already under his shirt, teasing, exploring. He grunted with approval when Simon bit at his lower lip and blew hot air into his mouth. His lips tasted of whiskey and cigarettes.

Soon he was all over Soap again, pulling him closer, harder. He wanted more. They last had the occasion to make out a long time ago, and ever since he broke through his trauma, he couldn’t ever get enough. Soap couldn’t be more happy about it, because he also couldn't ever get enough. Not of Ghost.

Soap lifted himself up to sit at the counter, he pulled Ghost along so that he was between his legs. Ghost immediately parted them further, clawing onto his thighs, firmly stroking the rock hard quads. Soap shivered with anticipation. The fact that they didn’t have to hold back there, finally in a completely private flat, gave him ideas he would be ashamed to say out loud.

Simon pierced him with his eyes that seemed to glow, practically consuming the image of Soaps parted lips and the expression he made when he was turned on. Now that Soap was looking into the hazel irises, all he could see was desire and something else, something deeper.

Johnny wanted to kiss him again, immediately, but Ghost held him down. He was getting obscene amounts of satisfaction from being in control and in charge of his partner’s pleasure.

He looked down at Soap. His gaze was impatient and tough, but at the same time affectionate, just as Ghost remembered it. This fucking electric blue got him every time.
„Simon,” urged Soap, swiftly tracing his fingers around Ghost's nape. He was impatient, he needed things to be quick.

Ghost ignored him and grabbed his hair at the nape, pulling his head back and supporting it by shoving his thumbs under Soaps jawbone. Ghost finally kissed him, pressing his tongue inside, further and further. The kiss was long, deep and tasted like liquor. It turned Soap on to the point that he let out a quiet moan, just about when Ghost touched his sensitive lower back.

Johnny quickly rid Ghost of the shirt, smitten by the way his boyfriends abs flexed when he was taking the longsleeve off through his head, peeling it away. Dim lighting in the kitchen laid interesting shadows on his body, highlighting its assets. Soap wanted to get back at him right away but Ghost stopped him. Johnny was breathing heavily, giving him a look that went straight to his dick. He nearly forgot what he wanted to say.

„Johnny, we’ve been drinking,” he murmured, leaning one hand on the countertop next to Soap. „Don’t want you doing anything you’ll regret.”
Soap slid one finger across Ghost's jaw. He wanted to scoff at this ridiculous warning.
„Do I look like I might regret kissing you? Touching you?…” he suspended his voice, tantalizingly grabbing a handful of Simon’s hair. He turned his voice down; „…Fucking you?”

Ghost took it as a yes.

Two hours, three orgasms and an obscene amount of pleasure later, they were laying in bed, exhausted and dripping with sweat. The sheets were a mess, black fabric wrinkled and coming off of the mattress. Soap was breathing as if he just completed military selection, his body too tired to even shift a finger. Simon also wasn’t any better. He worried that he went too far, too hard, but his boyfriend didn’t seem to mind, cheeky smile making its way on his face. He remembered what they did, how well Ghost rid him of all the innocence he still had somewhere inside of him. They have never gone this far, this hard, but it was good. Soap still shivered at the memory.

They were basking in the darkness, both not entirely back in the real world yet. Ghost lifted his tattooed arm, swirling his fingers through Soaps back. It was overwhelmingly quiet, silence ringing in their ears, compared to a while ago. Ghost smirked too. He remembered that they had the whole month to themselves.

After some breath evening and lazy kisses, Simon decided to get up. He brought Soap a glass of water and threatened him into drinking it, going to shower shortly after. His skin was tacky with everything, mostly sweat. Mostly.

He remembered how he obsessively avoided mirrors and looking at his own face, but after half a year with Soap, he slowly started to ease into it, as he more often took his mask off. They were at the point where he rarely ever had it on when he was alone with him. Simon was getting increasingly more comfortable in his own skin. It was very important for him, the change that the relationship helped him undergo.

That’s why he didn’t bother wearing anything else than a towel around his waist when he was done. Scars on his torso and back for some reason turned Soap on. He exited the bathroom to look for his toothbrush, still packed somewhere.

Soap, as soon as he caught a glance of Ghost coming out of the bathroom, of his stupid waist and monstrous back, had to take a sharp breath. He only passed through the door frame for a second, but it was enough. Johnny couldn’t believe that Simon could ever think of himself as unattractive.

Soap sighed and lifted himself up with a groan. He wondered if he was going to be able to walk the next day. When he got off the bed, also not bothering to wear anything, he headed to the bathroom. Waiting for Ghost to come back, he turned the shower on. The soft sound of water hitting the floor calmed him down. Just as Ghost came back, Johnny entered the shower, welcoming the warm water that he let pour down his head and body. Something inside of him twitched when he turned around and saw Ghost. He was standing in the doorframe, still only wearing a towel, with a toothbrush in his mouth and his muscular arm resting above his head. Soap swallowed.

Maybe the night wasn’t over yet.

The next day, as Soap expected, he had a little trouble walking. It didn’t stop him from signing a monthly gym membership though, as Ghost proposed it when they were eating late breakfast. They couldn’t get out of shape for that month. Besides, he still needed to beat Ghost at bench press.

They went to bed or, more accurately, collapsed out of exhaustion, about 2 am. Ghost awoke first, very much late as for his usual sleep schedule. He found himself craving a smoke really bad, so he jumped out of bed and even lit a cigarette while he was still inside. Only the second one calmed him down, or maybe it was the cool air blowing at him on his balcony.

That's where Soap found him, still sleepy and rubbing his eyes with his hands.
„There you are. Everything alright?” there was worry in his voice. He yawned.
„Just needed a smoke. Sorry I woke you.”
„It's late anyway,” Johnny waved it off with his hand. „How are you feeling?” investigated Soap. He knew from experience that the only time when you can get a true opinion about the sex you had was the morning after.
„Depends. Can you walk?”
Soap didn’t expect such a response, especially a direct question. Ghost kept surprising him. He got a little shy.
„Barely,” muttered Soap, looking sideways.
Ghost knew how sinful it was, but he couldn’t help this weird kind of satisfaction overflowing him.
„Then I'm feeling great.”

A few days went by, Ghost and Soap falling into kind of a routine. They ran every other day, a half hour jog to blow off some steam. The gym pass they both bought was frequently used. Soap didn’t end up beating Ghost in bench press though.

One day, when the weather wasn’t as gloomy, Ghost took Soap sightseeing, showing him around Manchester. They walked around the city center and nearby districts, and Soap very much enjoyed it, mostly because they were out together. It was so, so weird for him.

Ghost, even though he hasn’t lived here for long for the last few years, had his favorite bar, a dim lighted wooden place in another part of the city. From the beginning he planned to take Soap there. However, that meant that he had to ask him out, as in, for a date. It kind of scared him, but he did it anyway. As he expected, Soap agreed right away, enthusiastic as usual.

In the evening they planned to go out, Soap went through Ghost's entire wardrobe, trying to find the right clothes for a… date? He wasn’t sure what to call it. He eventually settled for a tight black t-shirt and black jeans. Safe option. He even shaved nicely and combed his hair back. Some of it was still falling on his forehead though.

Ghost wouldn’t admit that, but he was stressed. As hell. He hated this particular kind of stress that would not go away, even bombarded with reason and logic. Nothing could go wrong, and he still had this pit in his stomach he just couldn’t shake. He took a deep breath and put on a compression longsleeve. Nothing will go wrong. He reached to the top shelf of his drawer for his motorcycle leather jacket.

A little smirk appeared on his face when he held it in front of him, shaking the stiffness of the leather away a little. He prayed for his bike to start with no problem.

Simon went to the bathroom to see Soap leaned against the sink, looking in the mirror. He noticed him but didn’t turn around.
„Are you ready?” investigated Ghost, tilting his head and skimming Soaps clothes.
The man breathed in deep.
„Yeah… are you sure we should do this?”

Ghost himself wasn’t sure before, but now that Soap asked the question that was echoing in his head all day, he suddenly knew the answer to it.

„I am sure. Let’s go. It’s gonna be good, I promise.”

He seldom said things like that, he wasn’t the one to reassure and pat people's back, but Soap clearly needed that now. He was going to keep his promise. He always did. You could say a lot of bad things about Ghost, but he was a man of his word no matter what.

They went down by the elevator and Ghost led Johnny around the building, to the back. There was a row of metal gates, each of them connected to a narrow road and an exit at the end of it. Ghost headed to one of the gates, leaned down and started forcing the crusty thing open. As he succeeded and the metallic loud clunks filled the still air of the evening, the gate sliding up, Soap gasped.

„That’s why you can’t fucking drive,” he laughed sincerely and approached the bike that was shining dangerously in the darkness. He knew shit about motorcycles, but this particular piece of machinery looked sharp as hell. Ghost stood by it, in his jacket he looked so good in, with his arms crossed.
„If you want me to be honest, I couldn’t wait to show you,” he let a sly smirk curve his narrow lips. Soap chuckled nervously again and rounded the bike with respect. Ghost picked up two helmets from the shelf in the garage and handed one to Soap.
„I knew it. Fuuck…”
„What?”
Soap looked at Simon who put on the helmet. The thing made him look even bigger, if this was even possible.
„I knew that you would pull off something like this,” he pretended to accuse Ghost.

Simon waited a while to respond.
„I see that you like it though. Come on, let’s go. I figured that I could take you around Manchester a little bit, show you more than we saw on foot. The city is different when it’s nighttime,” he hinted quietly, getting on the bike and checking everything.

The machine idled for a few seconds, struggling to start, but eventually the fuel pump did its job and a loud roar echoed through the garage and exterior. Soap was now officially sweating, both from excitement and stress. Simon looked absolutely devilish on that thing. Johnny chuckled again, shaking his head in disbelief and put on the given helmet, mounting the bike.

„Hold on, Johnny,” said Simon, the bass in his deep voice even more palpable than usual. Soap cursed under his breath and embraced Ghosts’ torso just in time as the man cranked the handle and practically flew out the narrow exit, the bike smoothly cutting corners. Cold air started blowing at Soap, whistling through his clothes.

Only when Ghost drove them to a lighted straight lane did Soap loosen his grip a little, still in shock. It all happened too fast. The ride didn’t scare him at all, he very much liked the adrenaline and the thrill it gave him (he was in the special forces for fucks sake), but it was the fact that it was his boyfriend that drove it and the fact that they were going out for a date.
And the fact that he was tightly pressed to his back.

Ghost, on the other hand, might have enjoyed that little show off a little too much. He suddenly found himself in an excellent mood, the fast ride sharpened his senses, woke them up a bit. The street lights were blurring in motion as he sped up.

He was very aware of the way Soap was holding on to him, embracing his chest tightly. He had to really focus on not crashing when he felt Johnny’s hand slide down to his thigh when they were rushing down the superior lane. He almost forgot to take the exit.

They eventually reached the city center. They had to stop at the red lights more often now, and even though he could, Soap didn’t let go of him when they were waiting. It wasn’t really comfortable to talk with all the noise around and the helmets so they didn’t, but Soap constantly felt the urge to ask about different things. His head was exploding with questions ever since they left the garage.

After some time, he sat back a little bit and actually looked around the city, soaking in the night atmosphere and raw architecture the city was maintained in. There were a lot of people, mostly in bars and clubs as it was about 10 pm already. Soap watched the way lights reflected on the black glossy surface of the motorcycle, looked up and to the sides. He was getting progressively more convinced of this particular way of sightseeing.

They drove around for about half an hour; even despite the wind-sealing motorcycle jacked Ghost had on, it was still palpably chilly outside. A thin fog settled in the air, swirling between buildings and vesting them in compelling colors. Soap was grateful to be able to capture all this while embracing the person he loved so much.

Because he loved Ghost. With every fiber of his heart.

Simon eventually pulled up to a parking spot and cut the bike off. Soap wasn’t exactly sure what part of the city they ended up in, but it seemed to have been somewhere around the township; not exactly the center but not the suburbs either. It was still lively though, there were people passing them every now and then.

Ghost took the helmet off and messed his hair up with his gloved palm. Soap did the same.
“Where are we?” asked Soap curiously, trying to get his hair to fall back rather than all over his forehead. When he was getting ready he hadn’t second-guessed having to wear a helmet.
“Near the Cotton Field Park,” Ghost turned around and got a load of Soap. “Hope you don’t mind a walk?”

It turned out that as soon as they got off the bike, it wasn’t as cold as it seemed on it. The two walked alongside into the thin fog. In the park there was only a couple in sight, otherwise it was empty and peaceful. A swan majestically streamed down the lake, laying soft creases on the still, black water. An ambulance siren wailed in the distance. Soap felt happy, excited.

Ghost spoke up first, breaking the comfortable silence of their walk.
“I used to come here when I couldn't sleep. You know…” Ghost pondered. “The nightmares. This place and the bike, it helped me clear my head up a little. I used to drive around all night and somehow I always ended up there.”
Soap fixed his attention on the swan. He could almost see Ghost there, five years ago, leaned against the barrier on the other side of the lake.

Johnny looked up at his boyfriend. His eyes were shining in the dark.
“Do you ever miss this place when you’re away?”
Ghost searched his jacket and soon lit a cigarette. The crackle of a lighter seemed very loud amidst the stillness of this place.
“No.”

Simon navigated them out, choosing a path alongside the Ashton Canal. Soap had the chance to ask Ghost about the bike and his past in this city more, he was happy to see him willingly respond; he would usually avoid such topics. The atmosphere seemed to light up as they walked, Soap even managed to get Ghost to laugh. The two soon reached a lively street, distant chatter guiding them to the bar alley. Soap now got the idea of where Ghost was planning on taking him.

“You know, I lied earlier,” smirked the taller man, shooting Soap a studying look. “I didn’t always end up in the park.”

Soap stayed silent. After a few more steps, Ghost stopped in front of one of the many bars they passed. Unlike them, this one didn’t have any flashing neon signs and a loud bass pounding from the inside. Three stone steps led inside, into the underground interior. Soap smiled and tilted his head.

“That’s our destination then… Alright.”
Simon smiled too. He wasn’t wearing a mask and Soap was again struck by how handsome he was, night lighting laying soft shadows on his face.
“After you,” said the man. He also turned out to be a gentleman, as Johnny figured over the months. He walked down the stairs.

There was more decrease inside. They must’ve been going to a floor underground, narrow dim corridor leading them towards music. Soap has never heard anything similar, the song that was currently playing seemed to wrap right around his head – electronic but incredibly hypnotizing.

Now that Simon overtook him and led him through the crowded hall, the music getting louder, he realized that it was actually more of a club than a bar. He looked around, not focusing on any person for longer; Ghosts’ back was much more fun to watch. When they passed through the dance floor, Soap’s head was full of questions again.

Simon eventually took them to a more private area of the place, where the music wasn’t as loud. Everything seemed to be bathed in shadows that were flickering on the stone, cool walls. There were a lot of people, occupying tables, boxes and little benches carved right in the walls. Soap couldn’t decade if the vibe of the place was cozy-modern or shady-risky. Maybe both.

Simon turned around. His expression was unreadable, controlled.
“We can get some drinks first and sit somewhere later,” he offered. He looked like a vampire.

They eventually sat in one of the boxes, armed with glasses of whiskey. They almost fought over who was paying, because Simon wouldn’t let Johnny pull out his wallet.
“It’s not like we’re a cheesy couple in an expensive restaurant, Simon. We’re just out and you took me here, so I can at least just pay,” argued Johnny when they were already sitting, sipping on the second glass. The first one they downed on the bar already.

Simon scoffed.
“You would go broke before you bought me enough whiskey to get me drunk.”
“Who said I was going to get you drunk?” Soap said carefully, raising his eyes to his face. He couldn’t shake why for that short while the image of a vampire Ghost crossed his mind. He didn’t know what was going on.

Ghost’s lips curved in a sly smile.
Soap laughed it off, but the sentence left a weird sensation swirling down his stomach.

They talked, enjoying the music coming deafened from behind the thick wall. It seemed even more hypnotizing; Soap grew to like the DJ’s selection, and it seemed like Simon did too. As Johnny was asking Ghost about how he found this place, he felt a little unsettled, awkward in his position he kept adjusting.

Over the time they grew closer, another fact that Soap learned about his boyfriend was that he was always looking to maintain eye contact. Now that they were sitting opposite to each other, it got particularly menacing for him, hazel eyes burning holes. Ghost was only looking down occasionally to the amber glass of whiskey, but other than that, he stared him down all the time.

“Did you take anyone else here before me?” asked Soap as they continued talking. He had in mind the woman Ghost once told him about.
“Not… particularly take, no.” he gulped the last sip of the whiskey down. Of course, he was drinking bourbon.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Elaborate,” investigated Soap.
Simon sighed and set the glass down. It was the third one.
“Told you ‘bout it. When we… you know which one I’m talking about,” he lost rhythm, but didn’t stop staring into Soap’s eyes. One would presume that on a topic uncomfortable for him he would be the one to cast his eyes down, but he didn’t. Eventually, Johnny looked down. Fuck, he was a SAS soldier and yet there he was, beaten by eye contact.

“Look, can we change the t…”
“Can you stop staring at me like that?” Soap broke. He played the uncomfortable topic card on purpose, but it ended up reversing and smashing back at him. He clenched his teeth and glued his eyes to Ghosts’ again.
“Like what?”

Soap gave up with a sigh. He didn’t know if he wanted to punch him or kiss him. Ghost sneered, a dangerous glint reflecting in his irises. Soap couldn’t stay mad at him for more than a second.
“I’ll get us another drink. Want one?” He picked up his empty glass and swung it around. Soap skipped the previous round.
“Yeah. Gonna need it.”

When Ghost was gone, Johnny took off his jacket. For the twenty minutes they spent there he had the time to warm up. It was actually getting quite hot, but it might’ve been the effects of the alcohol too. Soap looked around the club at a group of people that just arrived. It was getting crowded.

When Ghost came back with two full glasses, they actually changed the topic and talked some more. Simon started to feel the whiskey get into his head a little bit, leaving it pleasantly light. He saw that Soap was keeping up with him in those terms, could see it in his eyes getting foggy and wandering around lazily. How on earth could he possibly look at the wall or the floor if he had this electric blue shooting their way through his very soul? He mostly listened and responded; it was always like that and he liked it very much. They suited each other, because Soap always liked to be heard and nobody listened more closely than Ghost. He was honored to receive this sincere attention. It was very important for him.

At some point, when they finished one topic, Ghost finally had the chance to ask Soap to go smoke. He craved nicotine more than ever when he was buzzed.
“Let's go then. Don’t want you to start having withdrawal symptoms,” Johnny teased, replying to Ghost’s request.

Soap followed Ghost outside, again having his eyes glued to his back. He sometimes didn’t understand himself, didn’t know why he was such a sucker for muscles, scars and tattoos. He himself had all of those things, he was in the military, and yet… that turned him on much more than it should. It was kinda ironic.

Outside, the city snapped awake. As there were a lot of people when they first arrived there, now the alley was very much crowded, laughs and snippets of conversations echoed and ringed in Soap’s ears. He shivered at the bite fresh air took on his skin, but he was warmed up with the alcohol so he didn’t care. He felt a bit surreal, suddenly on the surface where life raged on while they were underground, lost in conversation. He leaned over the barrier the entrance to their club was framed with and looked at Simon smoke, again, feeling weird that he enjoyed it so much.

“Care to give me one?” he asked, gesturing over to the cigarette pack Simon was holding.
The man eyed him shortly.
“Sure,” he replied hesitantly. He only saw Soap smoke once, on the memorable night in a shitty hotel in Iran. He held the package towards him.

Soap lit the cigarette, wincing at it. He got to know his habits a little, and he was always drawn to smoking when he was having nights out. Ghost watched him with a weird expression on his face. Soap raised a brow and then Simon started laughing to himself. ‘What the actual fuck is happening,’ thought Johnny to himself and then he laughed too. He couldn’t seem to help it.

“What’s so weird,” he scoffed, amused as hell. The whiskey must’ve gotten to him.
“Nothing, I just…” Ghost paused, regaining composure of himself. “This is fucking surreal.”

Soap said nothing, staring straight ahead. It was indeed surreal. Out of nearly daily life-or-death situations they endured, here they were, clubbing like it was the most normal thing to do. It was normal, just not for two special forces members that were caught up in their job for almost all their lives. Soap looked up to the distant light haze the city emitted.

“We can’t just let it all go, can we?” muttered Soap, finally fixing his gaze on his boyfriend. “I just want this night… this night out, like normal people. Happy and dancing around without a care in the world. You think we can do that?” he paused and took a drag.
Simon nicked his eyes.
“I think we can.”

His voice was quiet.

Things went fast after that. They bailed on their sitting place and downed tho drinks right at the bar, with the dance floor lights flashing at them. Lasers reflected on the crystal glasses, laying fancy patterns on the bar surface, sticky with alcohol. Soap’s head started spinning, it was so pleasantly light, he got careless. The conscious part of his mind knew that was the reason why he wasn’t drinking often, but he made the decision. Just this night, just one time, let it all go. He tapped into this state of mind, choosing to empty his mind of all the thoughts that were always raging there; look out for that, don’t do that, you shouldn’t say that… he was sick of it. Because what the fuck could go wrong?

Ghost, who was two drinks ahead of Johnny, started to finally feel the effects of alcohol that were usually not quick enough to actually work before his system processed them. He last felt this thrilling buzz a fucking long time ago and he welcomed it with a sense of relief. Never did he lose his common sense, at least he never got himself to this state before, but when he was drunk, he felt invincible and detached from his usual overcautiousness. It was truly liberating; he gave himself permission to let go for the night before he even entered the club. And when he set his mind on something, he wasn’t the one to change it.

He watched Soap close his eyes and cast his head back a bit. The deep bass of the music from the dancefloor pounded right in his chest, deafening anything unnecessary that happened to cross his mind.

“Let’s dance,” spoke Johnny over the music. His eyes had a dangerous glint to them and he tilted his head towards Ghost. His lids twitched. Simon felt as if the blue was devouring his very soul.

“Don’t know if this is a good idea,” he sighed, but it was clearly not convincing enough for Soap.
“Good idea…” he scoffed. “None of this today. If you don’t go, I’ll go alone. And we don’t want that.” His teeth glinted in the dim lighting as he smiled.

Ghost stood there, towering over Soap, but as ironic as it was, he was completely under his charm. Even if he really tried to, he couldn’t look away. The alcohol made Johnny’s moves smoother, more allusive. He stepped forward, knowing damn well that he had Ghost wrapped around his pinky finger.

“Come with me.”

And he did. This time he followed, Johnny swiftly leading him towards the white and blue lights they were flashing at the dance floor, towards the hypnotizing music. Just as they made their way through the crowd of people, their clothes, smells and motion overwhelming their sight, a new song started playing, deep beats of bass and light melody pooling inside their ears. It was hard to push past the mass of people, but two military men somehow opened a spot right in the center of the room.

Ghost soon understood what he had actually gotten himself into. He was stuck under the charm of Johnny's eyes, his precise movement and the shadows laid on his face by colorful lights. He also soon understood that he was a part of the crowd, which left him no choice but to sway right where it swayed, let himself be carried. The music in the club was no kind to jump to, he could just vibe with it, match and accustom.

Soap seemed to be in trance. The sounds, sensations, smells, touch, it anchored him in the moment, left no place for any thoughts to wander. He subconsciously gravitated towards Ghost, leaning towards him. There was a smile on his face, a smile of relief and utter satisfaction. He closed his eyes.

Simon gritted his teeth. When Soap turned around, driven by music, he grabbed his waist harder than necessary. Johnny immediately leaned towards him, pushing his body into Ghost’s bulk, knowing damn well how bold it was. The dance floor was dark and relatively hard to orient in. Neither of them could make out silhouettes of the people around them, so they figured that the same was for them; they couldn’t be seen unless someone looked very closely. Not like Soap cared. He was stewed.

He cast his head back, resting it over Ghost’s chest. He could feel the man’s breath stirring in his chest that raised and fell rapidly. The air he blew into Soap’s face smelled of alcohol and cigarettes and even though it was a heavy combination, it did something to him. Ghost eventually let go of him. The contact they were getting was already enough, because they were constantly pushed at each other by the mass of people they were in the middle of. It left Simon no choice but to rock along, the closest he has ever done to dancing. Soap, on the contrary, didn’t resist at all, he seemed to glide in his movements which left his boyfriend speechless. Who would’ve thought he could get like that.

Ghost was pretty sure that this moment was going to be engraved in him forever. He hasn’t reached the edge yet, he still had some reason in him and he was going to get rid of it in a while.

Couple of songs later they went to down another drink at the bar.
“Didn’t take you for the one to dance,” teased Ghost with his gaze wandering over Soap’s body. He was breathing heavily and his hair was messed up from the dancing.
“ ‘m full of surprises,” he teased back, swirling his glass around.
“That I see,” said Ghost and put his hand to his face to scratch his nose. The moment he touched it, a stream of blood dripped out, pooling at his lower lip.
“Fuck,” he muttered and quickly put his hand to the nose not to spill blood everywhere.
“Simon? What happe… “ cut Soap off when he finally looked up at him. “Shit.”

Simon said nothing and quickly turned around to look for the bathroom. He stormed off through a narrow hall, followed by Soap. The situation brutally snapped him back to reality.

The bathroom was dim and small, with graffiti all over white tiled walls. The mirror that was hanging in front of the sink was cracked. A fluorescent lamp that provided lighting the room hummed. Ghost leaned over the sink and blood soon started dripping down into the drain, sprinkles of it settling all over the edges. Soap rushed to one of the cabins to get him some tissues. The nosebleed wasn’t stopping, the sink was all covered in blood. One guy that entered the bathroom quickly left when he saw what was going on.

They were soldiers, blood was their standard fee and yet Soap couldn’t help but worry a little. It didn’t look very good.

Ghost looked up at him in the mirror.
“You can give me those.”
Soap saw blood flowing down his face, staining his teeth as he spoke. He handed him the tissues. The situation happened so quickly that he didn’t really know what to say.

“Has this happened before?” he asked finally just as Ghost held the tissues up to his nose. The blood quickly wet them, spreading like disease.
“Why do you think I wear a black balaclava,” he grunted.

Johnny wasn’t sure what to say to that. He knew that their bodies were quite exploited by the kind of work they did, but nosebleeds were always an alarming symptom. However, worry didn’t stop him from eyeing Simon’s posture as he leaned over the sink with his shoulders wide because had to bend down. A fresh stream of blood poured down as he fixed his piercing gaze on his own reflection in the mirror. Soap wouldn’t ever admit that, but at that very moment he thought ‘hot’ to himself. He couldn’t look away.

They stayed there in silence for a couple of minutes, waiting for the bleeding to stop. It eventually did and Simon washed the dried off bits off his face. He turned around, finally looking Soap into the eyes. He sniffed and opened his mouth, swaying a little bit to the sides. They were both still quite loaded.

Soap wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he approached Ghost. He raised a hand and wiped some left blood off his face. His eyes jumped from one of Ghosts’ eyes to the other, he suddenly couldn’t remember how to look at both at the same time. The two of them were very close.
“I kinda wanna kiss you,” whispered Soap.

Ghost swallowed and exhaled. He didn’t know why, but he found himself being angry at the nosebleed. His head was spinning. Fuck it, he thought.

He kissed Johnny, grabbed him by the neck and pulled close. His eyes were shut tight, he wanted to forget about everything. Johnny bit at his lip, opened his mouth up with his tongue. A thrill of excitement shot through Ghosts’ stomach, he clenched the front of his shirt and gave the kiss back. He couldn’t stop, even despite the last bits of his consciousness screaming at him. Johnny was swaying on his feet so he rested one arm on the sink behind Ghost, he felt his heart racing when their tongues intertwined. The kiss tasted of blood.

Suddenly, Soap drew back pushing Ghost away in a rather aggressive manner. He licked his lips. Ghost glared at him from under his furrowed eyebrows.

“Back. Let’s get outta there,” he eyed him and after a few seconds a smile made its way on his face. It wasn’t a caring smile though. It was dangerous.

After that, Simon remembered vividly only one moment, namely Soap’s face illuminated by the club lights when he was laughing at something. The rest was a blur. On the next day when he was recalling the order of events, he remembered that he held Johnny when they were dancing again, remembered how he smelled and that he was saying something but Ghost couldn’t hear it over the music. He also remembered a very strong urge to kiss him again, right there and then, so that everyone could see.

He only regained a little bit of control after he sobered up after maybe an hour at the club. It was 1:30 o’clock at the time they decided to leave. Walking up the stairs felt surreal, the fading music felt surreal, the city streets felt surreal, cloaked in the darkness of the night. Cold air bit at their skin as they just started walking, not caring where to. There were a ton of people there, pouring out on the sidewalks from the clubs. Street lanterns covered in stickers and tags spotlighted the fog that was still stirring in the air. Johnny swayed on his feet, visibly wasted. Ghost wasn’t really much better but he managed to walk relatively straight. When they walked two blocks, he lit a cigarette, handing one over to Soap without a word. They had to stop for him to light it.

Johnny looked up at his boyfriend as he was holding the lighter. He had this weird fire, this anger within him, it started in the bathroom and it hasn’t been satisfied ever since. Just as the fire touched the tip of his cigarette, the dissatisfaction inside of him peaked. He grabbed Ghost’s arm and suddenly froze. They were in the middle of the street.

They were fighting a vicious eye battle, people passing and shooting them curious looks. Everything blurred around, there were just their eyes. They say that eyes are the reflection of one’s soul. In that particular moment, both of their souls were raging inside. Ghost felt rage, but not the type that made him want to break things. It was the rage of desire, one of the most intense feelings he experienced in a while.

“Want you home. Now,” growled Ghost quietly. The silence in his voice was loud.
Soap shivered.

They took a cab home since Ghost was definitely too drunk to drive. In the car they both took the back seats and Soap couldn’t possibly stop himself from teasing Ghost a little. He tightened his fingers at Simon’s thigh.

He never forgot the look he got from him.

In the elevator to Ghosts’ flat the bright lights blinded them. Soap felt as if it was going to take forever until they got to the 14th floor. He felt unreal. And very, very turned on. Ghost was quiet, he hadn’t said a word since they left the car.

The second they barged inside and Ghost flicked a lock to the door he was already pinning Soap to the wall. Soap bit at his lip until he tasted blood. Simon hissed and kissed him back, forcing his hand under Soap’s shirt. They broke the kiss.

Johnny was all messed up, a few strands of sweaty hair fell on his forehead, covering his eyes that almost glowed with desire. He was breathing heavily as chills shot through him.
“Please, please,” whined Johnny, grabbing Simon by his neck to stop him from walking away. But he was not going anywhere.

On top of being tipsy, Soap was also dazed, hypnotized, as always when they were making out so intensely. He was impossibly heated up, just as Ghost who was peeling his jacket off of himself and throwing it on the floor carelessly. His eyes were dark.

“Not here,” he said shortly, dragging Soap along with him to the bedroom. He was almost shaking.

Soap sat at the edge of the bed and swallowed, looking up at Ghost who stopped in front of him, centimeters away. Johnny suddenly felt small. He raised his hands to slip them under Ghost's tight shirt, he stroked his sides up. He tried to stand up but Ghost pushed him back right away.

“Sit there,” he demanded and reached to his sides to peel the longsleeve off. Johnny nearly choked to death at the view he had from this perspective. His face was directly in front of the place where Ghost’s abs dipped down under his waistband in this V shape carved out so sharply by years of working out. He saw the muscles flex, the scarred skin stretch when he raised his hands to take the shirt off through his head.

He swallowed again when Ghost, very slowly, looked down at him, tilting his head. His dark, commanding eyes pierced Johnny down to the point that he was too scared to move again. From this perspective there were no words for Soap to describe how fucking attractive he was.
“Why don’t you make this mouth of yours useful for once?”

The next day, Soap awoke first. And his head was pounding. He groaned quietly at the blinding sunlight and rolled over to the side, covering his face. He took a few seconds to come back to reality and then fixed his sleepy eyes on Simon. He was laying with his back to him, shirtless. He was breathing unevenly, and after the few moments Soap took to look at him, his hand twitched. Johnny furrowed his eyebrows and sighed quietly. It must have been his nightmares. They slept in one bed quite a few times now and it wasn’t new for Soap. He felt bad for Ghost having to experience this. But every time they talked about that, Simon cut the topic off, avoiding it, though he asked Soap to wake him whenever he saw that he was having one. And that Soap did, placing a hand on his shoulder and shaking it gently. Ghost had quite the fitful sleep so it didn’t take long to wake him. He was panting when he snapped awake, chaotically looking around. When he settled down after a few seconds, he collapsed back on the pillow with a groan.

“Bad dream?” made sure Soap, resting on his elbow so that he could see his boyfriend.
Simon only hummed affirmatively in response, staring at the ceiling. They were quiet as Ghost evened his breath.
“Can’t even fucking rest,” he muttered and sighed, glancing at Johnny. He was still blissfully sleepy, his blue eyes fluttering as he studied him. Soap could go back to bed right there and then, he knew that he would pass out in three seconds. Ghost didn’t have that luxury. Unless he wasn’t completely exhausted, it would take him at least a solid hour to fall asleep.

“Go back to sleep if you want,” said Ghost and rolled over to his back. The bed dipped under his weight when he moved.
“What ‘bout you?” muttered Soap.
“I’ll be fine.”

Well, that was an obvious lie. Johnny knew that as well as Ghost did. That was why he moved closed, rustling in the sheets to finally settle, pressed tight to Ghosts’ side. He exhaled, completely relaxed. Simon's lips curved in a small smile, he threw one arm around his torso and tried his best to match his breath with the steady rise and fall of Soap’s chest. Soap did this before and it seemed to work. At least Ghost didn’t have to lay there all alone.

It also worked this time. Ghost focused on the warmth that was beaming from Soap and on his breath. He probably went through every way to fall asleep, but none of them involved another person laying next to him. Only this seemed to be effective, because he soon drifted off to a deep, good sleep.

After they woke for good a couple hours later, they went about their day, discussing last night that was, as they both agreed, well needed. It salved Ghosts’ conscience a bit, because he had in mind that both of them were under the influence when they were making out last night. He was especially alive to consensuality.

Soap skipped the morning jog because of the headache that was killing him. It became their little routine for the days they already spent together. Thus Ghost went alone and ran an extra mile to get his bike that was still parked on the roadside where he left it yesterday. It turned out that the club wasn’t that far away from Ghosts’ flat at all, they just drove round the city so that was why it seemed so distant for Soap.

Later on, when Soap beat the headache with some aspirin, they made something to eat and just hang out in the quiet of the flat. They compared their music tastes, Ghost laughing at Katy Perry and Soap protecting his opinion by insulting the ‘obscene screams’ of Slipknot.
Everything seemed to fall into place.

They watched a cheesy movie together, Ghost callously laughing at the abysmally in love characters and Soap agreeing with him, but deep down he was moved by the tragedy of their romance. Simon of course saw right through that but chose to say nothing, only smiling to himself.

Soap ordered himself some gear online, they cleaned and went shopping. Everything they did was painfully mundane and might’ve seemed boring… But for the two of them it was liberating in some way. Always on the rush, on a helicopter, at the base, deployed, stressed and sleep-deprived… It was their job they chose for themselves, accustomed to and accepted, but at least they had an alternative now, something to hold on to when their leave was going to finish. They now had somewhere to go back to if it was needed.

For all his time in the military, Simon was always very much aware of the lack of perspectives he had. He built his life on the still-smoking remains of his past, he had nowhere and no one to come back to. That was the reason why what he built there with Soap was so incredibly important. He always just thought that he would die on a mission, hopefully in the name of something he felt partial to. A heroic death, in the action and smell of gunpowder. It unconsciously became his plan, because what else was he going to do? Retire and rot in his empty flat, haunted by nightmares and restless in his exploited body? He would probably end up addicted to something and miserable, basking in the last rays of glory he earned for himself. What would he spend the loads of money he earned on? Who would even be there to bury him if he eventually dropped dead? It sometimes was days until people discovered that their neighbors were dead, usually from the smell. He couldn’t even think about it happening to him. Right, he was painfully introverted, strayed away from other people whenever he could, kept his distance. But the perspective of living with literally no one to turn to for the rest of his days after he retired set a gaping sadness in his very chest.

This image was haunting him all the time. It even started to appear in his nightmares. One of them was particularly draining for him; it was the one when he was seeing his body in his own bathroom, dead. Everything was unsettlingly turned down in color, gray. He was just seeing his own corpse from above, and at the same time, felt as if he was still in his body and feeling it decompose, rot, fall apart endlessly. And it wasn’t even the worst. The worst part was the silence and an overwhelming emptiness, as if all his feelings he so stubbornly denied were sucked into the void, gone for good. He couldn’t possibly explain it but it was just unbearable and incomprehensibly sad.

That’s why when it was already dark outside and they were hanging out on the sofa, Soap resting his head on Ghost’s shoulder, Ghost turned to him.
“Johnny? I wanted to show you something.”

Soap raised his head, piqued. He chuckled.
“What? Got another motorcycle on you?” he said with amusement, but there was something so soft in his voice that got Ghost. He could only guess what did he do to deserve him.

It didn’t happen often, but Simon sometimes felt particularly affectionate towards something. In those rare moments everything in him seemed to soften. It was one of those moments now and Ghost, saying nothing, reached for Soap’s hand, taking it into his gently. Johnny’s cheeky smile quickly faded, he now looked up at him questioningly. His blue eyes were focused on Ghost solely, searching, caring… loving. Simon noticed that reflection and couldn’t decide if it scared him or stirred his very heart. Cold heart, which was not easy to wake.

“Come with me. Take your jacket,” he said enigmatically, with a gentle smile. Soap shot him one last look and quickly grabbed the jacket. Ghost guided him out of the apartment, to the staircase. Soap was intrigued, excited. They went up. Ghost swiftly navigated them around the sheet of corridors that were weaving all over the 15th floor. Soap was beginning to get the idea of where Ghost was taking him.

Only when Simon cracked open a heavy pair of stall-only doors did he understand. They were going to the roof.

Cool air woke their senses up, wind whistled through the metal fans and pipes that were installed all over it. The wind also messed with Simon’s blonde curls. The whole thing was surrounded by a concrete ledge for safety. It was pitch black outside with the only source of light being the distant city light haze. Soap moved closer to Ghost, grabbing his hand again.

“Damn… could’ve taken me there earlier, you know? It's amazing,” Soap smiled, turning his head to look at Ghost. The man smiled back gently, guiding them over to the ledge. From here they had a new angle at the distant skyscrapers that couldn’t be seen from Ghosts’ flat. The sounds that got to them seemed very distant, with the fans emitting a steady, low hum.

“Why now? Did something happen?” worried Soap, a sincere note in his voice. He was looking into the night, at the city.
Ghost couldn’t look anywhere but at him.
“No, everything’s fine,” he replied, leaning over the concrete. “I just…” he stumbled.

Simon took a deep breath. How on earth was he going to say that? He had been thinking a lot about them, about their relationship and how it evolved to this point they were currently floating in. The leave opened his eyes, he understood that there was actually a future for him, that he wasn't only built of pain and destined to doom. He was never good with sharing his inner reflections.

All of this was coming down to one thing; how he felt for Soap.

“I’ve been thinking about all this, you know. About us. I never had the slightest hint of hope that anyone would ever want me. And,” he inhaled shakily, “I think I’ve never been more grateful for anything in my life.”

Soap turned his head to Ghost. He didn’t dare say anything. His eyes were illuminated by the light, swirling with affection. Extremely rarely did Simon go down the feelings path and Johnny didn’t want to disturb anything.

“Until you gave me that kiss back in the hotel, I thought that I was fated to suffer, that my pain would just snuff me out at some point. You helped me understand that I was wrong. You know, I had this image of dying alone that has been haunting me for years. The thing is that I’m alone no more.”

He paused, recollected himself.

“Johnny, I…” he paused and then continued, quieter. “You know how I am, cold at times. And I think that will never change. I just want you to know that…”

“I love you,” finished Soap for him. He was breathing deep, his skin was flushed from the sudden cold, with glossy eyes and hair messed up by the wind. The eye contact they were holding might’ve been one of the most intense things that Soap had ever experienced.

Ghost froze, his lips still parted from the sentence he didn’t finish.

I love you too.