dragpath
(Open, Moderated)
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Summary
“What do you need?” Ghost asked.
“Just your scent,” Soap said.
That hurt some, the knowledge that Soap only wanted him for this. But if this was the extent of Soap’s need for him, Ghost wouldn’t argue. Would sit there and behave as Soap fucked himself on his knotting toys, would let him break the heat like that.
Because Soap could have gone to any alpha on base. Could have flashed that pretty scent and had any one of them lining up to help.
But he hadn’t.
He had chosen Ghost. -
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Summary
Now, Soap's got a healthy amount of superstition, as much as the next guy. He taps twice on the spines of his sketchbooks before opening and closing them. Wrenches his door handle up whenever he enters his room even though that does nothing to lock it, just because back in his childhood home the front door would stick and that was the only way to make sure it was properly shut before the deadbolt would work.
He offers a mindless, habitual prayer whenever they pass by a roadside memorial. Taps his glass once on the table before drinking when on a night out, whenever he's drinking from something made of glass.
Little things. Simple things he barely thinks about, and no one calls him out on in his team. Just another Soap-quirk, one of thousands of little rituals that every man who risks his life on the daily would do if they thought it would put Lady Luck on their side and let them see another sunrise.
But this…thing. This thing has no explanation. No little ritual to make him stop seeing it. It keeps its distance but in that way a haunted doll in films does - with the implicit knowledge that it will get closer, it will move.
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Summary
After being on leave for a few weeks after the events in Chicago, Ghost finds himself in Scotland searching out the companionship of someone he's missed dearly.
AKA, Ghost finds out Soap is a pothead and Soap convinces him to smoke.
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Summary
Ghost notices that Soap never fully lets his guard down when they fuck. He accidentally changes that.
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Summary
"Ghost?" Soap mumbles the question against the back of Ghost's neck, Ghost will know what he means because he always does.
"Need you." Ghost tells him.
"Oh love." Soap presses his forehead closer. "I'm so tired, I don't think I can."
"Don't need-" Ghost cuts off frustratedly, apparently struggling to explain. "Just need you closer. You're still too far-"
"Shhh." Soap soothes, presses his palm into Ghost chest. "You want me inside? as close as I can get?"
"Yes." Ghost nods straight away. "Please."
Series
- Part 2 of Low Spirits: Bottom Ghost Weeks Fics