Chapter Text
"Easy, what's your status?"
You hear Ghost's thick accent grumble through your ear cuff, the gold and green jewels disguising the small earpiece that's been tuned into the team's frequency,
"I'm not wearing this."
The costume, if the mostly sheer slip of fabric can be called that, hangs on the full length mirror you stand in front of, still wrapped in a puffy white towel.
There was once upon a time that this was your usual night, dressing in skimpy outfits, luring men somewhere shadowed and discreet to pry information out of their bumbling mouths before slitting their throats, leaving them without a trace of evidence to tie back to you.
You thought you were past that life when Captain Price sought you out to contract with his little unicorn task force, one-four-one, the elite of the elite. You finally got the chance to be the operative you had trained so intensely to be, you didn't have to just be a pretty face, you didn't have to sweet talk your way into the "boy's club" anymore because you now stand shoulder to shoulder with some of the most feared operators in the world, and you were fucking good at it.
Yet, here you were, about to lower your standards once again, use your body once again, to get intel from a high-level syndicate boss, and you didn’t even get to kill him this time. Fucking bullshit.
Price chimes in, "We need to get movin', Easy. I know this isn't what you do anymore, but one last time."
"That's what they all say, Cap. But, from where I'm standing, none of you are going to be in a corset and a fucking collar."
"I'm in a fuckin' cummerbund, Easy, basically the same thing." Soap bites out in his heavy Scottish lilt, "Hurry up, I need a bleedin' drink. Please."
Soap is your designated escort for the night, you’ll be playing guests at the Dia de los Muertos masquerade ball put on annually by the syndicate. Even you can admit it’s a cliche way to bring many of the high-rollers together while still being able retain their anonymity. But, it does make your job so much easier.
You don't respond to him though, opting to aggressively tighten the silky laces of the corset with a huff before pulling on a sheer black body suit that zips all the way to the base of your neck, and stepping into the skirt last.
It's made of a heavy velvet, hanging softly against your skin, wrapping over every curve as you secure it onto the bodysuit right at the smallest point of your waist. There are high slits on either side, and every step you take leaves very little to the imagination; but, you couldn't deny the surge of feminine energy you feel, seeing yourself like this after so many months being covered head to toe in dark and unflattering tactical gear.
The last piece is a gold collar that houses your microphone. The collar itself is styled as an intricate, and nearly anatomically correct, skeletal hand that wraps over your entire neck to clasp at the back,
"Bravo, how copy?"
You speak lowly, testing the sensitivity, "Good copy, Easy." Price replies, "Now, get out 'ere."
"Can't rush perfection, sir."
You place a matching gold half-skull mask over your eyes, tying the black silk pieces behind your head in a long bow that drapes gracefully down your exposed back,
"Fucking hell, Easy- move your arse." Ghost barks out, and it always brings a smile to your face to get under his skin the way he did yours.
Grabbing the small clutch and pushing your feet into sky-high heels, you strut out of the ritzy hotel room, already fantasizing about getting back here at the end of the night and getting to sprawl out on the plush, king sized mattress. God, that sounds fucking divine, too bad it’s never going to happen.
As you saunter down the hallway, you can already hear the pounding bass and loud conversation seeping through the floor and walls around you, oddly enough, it helps to ease some of the tension that has settled in your shoulders.
"My, my, my.."
You smirk at the familiar voice, turning towards a dark alcove to see Ghost standing, his shoulder leaning heavily on the wall, large arms crossed lazily over the broad expanse of his chest,
"Gotta say, Easy.. this is a good look." He coos, pointedly dragging his eyes over your mask before ogling at the skeletal hand wrapped around your neck, raking his gaze down your body and right back up just as slowly.
You step forward, invading his space, not having to crane your neck as far back thanks to the outrageous pumps giving you a few extra inches, "Hm, I thought you might like it, assuming this theme was your idea.. no?"
He stands his ground, letting you step almost chest to chest with him, letting you run your long, black nails over his torso as you speak up to him in a low and sultry voice; you certainly don't miss the way his breathing picks up just slightly and how his pupils dilate as he looks at you. These are the things you've spent years training to be able to read in people, using their own tells to manipulate them how you see fit. It's his fault for falling right into it.
Ghost chuckles dangerously, quickly grabbing your waist, pushing his weight into you as your body hits the wall he was just leaning on, the impact knocking a small gasp from your lungs. His face is right in front of yours in the blink of an eye, one muscular arm supporting his weight over you while the other comes to your neck, tracing the gilded lines of the collar as he speaks,
"You know your little tricks don't work on me, Easy.." He breathes out your call sign, and even though his words are confidently spoken, you can still see his dark eyes giving him away; so, you let that same bratty little smirk pull your red stained lips up just enough to show your teeth,
"Sure, Lieutenant." You push him away, not bothering to look back as you continue your path to the party below; your confidence renewed by the not-so-chance encounter.
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"Easy, the target is in a blue suit, black and blue panther mask." Price's voice echoes in your head, his gruff accent clear even over the raucous around you as your eyes take in the gathering. It's an ostentatious event, for sure, every available space covered in rich jewel-toned decor and colorful, heavy fabrics. Every surface littered with marigold flowers, and candles hanging down from the ceiling; the atmosphere is nothing short of magical.
You quickly spot Soap by the bar, a short whiskey glass to his lips while the other holds a champagne flute,
"What a gentleman." You whisper in his ear as you wrap your hand over his on the flute, unable to stop the small laugh that parts your lips as he nearly jumps out of his skin,
"Steamin' Jesus.. wow-" His angry eyebrows unfurl as he takes you in, but unlike Ghost, he at least tries to be courteous with his gaze, though you see his deep blue eyes gliding over every inch of you behind the simple black mask.
You take a large sip of the bubbly liquid, relishing in the slight burn as it goes down before looking back at him, "Don't get used to it, Sergeant." You say, placing a kiss to his cheek before lacing your arm in his, "Let's find our mark."
It isn't too difficult of a task seeing how he had a line of people, mostly women, vying for his attention. Mateo Flores. The syndicate boss who has hidden for years behind a well constructed ruse of being a man for the people, until now; a philanthropist who acts as a sort of Robin Hood figure. Only if you can count distributing stolen money from a world-wide human and drug trafficking ring to the poor, as being any sort of hero. He is an attractive man though, fifty-two years old, a 'silver fox', some might call him; but he's just like any other man, with his affinity for beautiful women half his age.
"Eyes on.. are you seeing this?"
Ghost hums out an acknowledgment, "Yeah, looks like you have your work cut out for ya."
"Is that a bet?"
"No. Not doin' this again with you two, cut it out." The captain quickly interjects, seeing as how our last bet ended up with Ghost getting your lips tattooed somewhere.. quite private.
Soap on the other hand, lives for our little spats, and outrageous bets, "Ahh, c'mon, Cap.. we get to see Easy in her element tonight, let 'em make a bet. For ol' time's sake."
Price sighs heavily across the radio, and you can visualize his exasperated expression even though he doesn’t bother to entertain us with a reply,
"So, what's it going to be? Maybe my name tattooed on you next?"
Soap's eye widen at this, trying to hide his laughter by nuzzling his face into your neck, putting on quite a convincing show as the overly handsy escort; which is something you can work with as you throw your head back, your smooth laugh carrying the short distance to where Mateo stands. Right on cue, you see him look over, catching a glimpse of you before turning back to man at his side, but quickly cranes his neck again to get a second look,
"Keep doing that." You say lowly into Soap's ear while grasping his wrist, pushing his hand down to cup your ass as you slowly start to sway your hips to the music,
"Ma'am.." Soap's voice is unsteady, "I- uhh, are you sure?"
"You wanted to see me in my element, this is it. Jealousy is a quick way to get the attention of a man like Mateo.."
You turn in his arms, still gently swaying, but this time you peak over your shoulder, seeing your target watching intently. The music is just the right pace to fall into an easy rhythm, grinding your ass a little further back with each movement as Soap finally begins to relax behind you, his rough palms venturing on their own now,
"Good boy, Johnny." You coo, smiling devilishly when you hear the low growl rumble through his chest, his fingers gripping into the flesh of your hips a little tighter as he pulls you flush against his torso.
"We can hear you." Ghost grumbles.
"Good." You bite back, turning to face Soap again.
With your heels on, you're nearly eye level with him, so it's easy to see how his pupils are dilated, the inky black swallowing the irises around them as he watches you with a predatory gleam in his eye, "We should do this again, it's been fun." You lean forward to whisper in his ear, maybe taking it a bit too far by gently tugging his lobe between your teeth before you pull away.
"Bravo, making contact."
"Rog."
"Soap, you got her?"
Soap stumbles over his own breath for a minute, managing to get out a mumbled response that vaguely sounds like a "Got her, sir." as you walk towards Mateo, never taking your eyes off of his form. You want him to see you rake over his body before grabbing another flute of champagne from a passing waiter,
"Mr. Flores," You step to the front of the line, earning a few heated glares as you daintily hold out the glass to him, "I saw you empty handed over here, can't have that, can we?"
Your voice is thick and heady as you step closer, leaning forward slightly, "And, I saw you watching me and my friend.."
A broad smile lights up his face as he brings a large hand to rest right at the lowest part of your back, an inch lower and it would be completely on your ass, "Yes.. you seemed to like having an audience."
"I like having a powerful audience."
He laughs at this, a hearty and loud laugh before he motions to the two men to his right and left, they step into our space quickly, "Check her."
"Excuse me?" You say breathlessly, feigning a hint of annoyance, "Is this necessary?"
"Having a powerful audience means taking precautions, Diablesa.. I'm sure you understand."
The men wave wands over you, and you roll your eyes with a sigh, giving Mateo a harsh glare when they find nothing, "See? Mr. Flores, you're much too paranoid. I thought a man like you would take advantage of a good time when it's offered.."
"Easy..." Price warns in your ear.
Mateo laughs again, completely enraptured by your attitude, which is exactly why you keep pushing the envelope. Men like him get tired of everyone submitting to him, he wants, no, he needs a little taste of what it's like to submit,
"Mm, mm, mmm.. Please, come with me?" He asks, holding his hand out to you.
You hesitate, growing just bashful enough to make him want to fight for it- fight for a night with you, fight for just a taste of you, "Let me lavish you the way you deserve tonight, in ways your little friend couldn't even dream of.."
Looking back to where Soap stands, you shoot him a wink before turning back to Mateo, placing your hand in his, "Maybe for a little while wouldn't be so bad."
"Bloody good work, Easy. We're trackin'."
As you make your way to the elevator, you keep a mental count of the bodies following close behind. One of them steps forward to push the call button, seeing how Mateo has already taken advantage of the privacy to begin groping your body, whispering softly into your skin. It makes you feel nauseated and dirty, just like every other time before. But, you keep up a good facade, forcing out small moans at the right times, caressing your hands over him in all the right places until the elevator doors open with a shrill ding.
"How about a little privacy, Mr. Flores? I've, uhh.. never-" You glance towards the empty elevator with a shy smile, but a provactive drawl in your voice.
He takes the hint with very little persuading, silly men.. unfortunate the one's usually in charge have such little capacity for logic when they're cock gets a little hard,
"Take the next one up." Mateo barks out, pulling you into the small space, his lips sucking at your jaw before the doors even have a chance to close,
"You are.. magnificent." He growls, brushing his lips over yours as his hand harshly cups over your cunt, the contact pulls an angry groan from you, which he takes as pleasure, but really he has no idea how close he is to losing that fucking hand.
You slowly lower to your knees, "Let me, Mr. Flores."
"Diablesa, please, call me Mateo. You will be screaming it soon enough."
You smile up at him as your hands unlatch his belt, instantly moving for his button and zipper as he tangles his hand in your hair. Yet, you stop suddenly when you feel him tug at the tie of your mask,
"I don't think you've earned that, Mateo." Pushing his hand back to this side and holding it there while you tug his pants down with your other hand.
He laughs again, only this time you can hear the aggressive edge as he harshly rips his hand out of your grasp, grabbing your jaw in a bruising hold,
"And, I think you need to be taught a lesson, little demon."
"Hmm.. I was thinking the same thing."
You pull a syringe of sedative from the small pocket sewn into the waistband of your skirt, plunging it deep into his now bare thigh just as the elevator comes to sudden stop. In a matter of moments, his knees buckle under him, and it gives you a little satisfaction as his dead weight slams to the floor. You certainly find joy in knowing he's going to feel that when he wakes.
The service doors open on the opposite side, Ghost entering first, followed by Price while Soap, who has now changed into something far more appropriate for a gun fight, is watching our exit route,
"You good?" Ghost asks, seeing the reddening marks on your cheeks from the man's grip.
"Am now." You reply, tugging the mask and collar off, shoving them into his chest as you push past him, pulling your heels off in the process, and digging your previously hidden bag out of a vent. You begin the process of stripping out of the many layers, ripping the body suit off before you hear Soap's gravelly voice,
"Easy.. Jesus, woman.. a little warnin'." He groans, but hesitates before looking away as you turn to face him, your barely covered body on full display as you tug on black cargo pants, keeping your eyes locked on his,
"Nothing you haven't seen before, right Sergeant?"
Ghost walks in next, dragging a now bound and gagged Mateo behind him, his eyes widening momentarily at the sight before him; and you're impressed with quickly he's able to school his features, looking towards Soap instead,
"Help me out 'ere, would you." He growls, finally pulling Soap's attention away from you, giving you a moment of privacy to finish dressing, pulling a cowl over your head and boots on before you join Price by the elevator control panel,
"You're lucky, kid."
"I don't believe in luck, Cap. I'm just good."
He chuckles, looking down at you with a hooded gaze, "That you are.", the doors close after he connects a few more wires, turning towards the other two men, "Let's move! Gaz is on the street with transpo."
You bring up the rear as the group head downs the maintenance stairwell. It's a poorly lit corridor, covered in dust and cobwebs, but it's perfect for concealment, which is exactly what we get until we make it to the exit marked with blocky letters, S T R E E T.
Soap takes point while Ghost holds onto the unconscious Mateo, and you watch as he expertly cracks open the heavy steel door, his rifle trained ahead as he listens for a moment before punching out, clearing the area and signaling us to move up. You take position behind him now, both of you posting up to cover each opening of the alley as Ghost and Price move Mateo out of the building and towards the unassuming maintenance van that's parked conveniently at one end,
"Gaz, you up?" You tease, moving in smooth steps still ahead of the four men before knocking twice on the door of the van, the metal sliding open to reveal the younger man,
"It's about to be hot out here.. let's make this quick." He states, rushing to pull Mateo in as the rest of you pile into the open space, the door sliding shut with a slam as soon as Soap makes it inside, plopping himself right beside you; bodies touching from our thighs up to our shoulders,
"Clear!" He shouts, and the van lurching forward throws your weight into him unexpectedly, but his hand wraps around your waist, helping to steady you as you get your bearings again. You don't immediately make a move to separate yourself from him, remembering the heady rush you got from feeling his body swaying against yours; it still feels fresh in your mind and you relish in the contact while you have it.
Ghost clears his throat, pulling your attention away from Soap's face to see brown eyes boring into you from across the van,
"Looks like I won that bet." You say arrogantly, watching as Ghost leans his head back but keeps his eyes on you, "Don't recall makin' a bet this time."
"Ahh.. don't be a sore loser, now, LT." You goad, smiling back at him under your hood, and you swear you see a tiny movement under his balaclava where his mouth is before he speaks again,
"What d'you wanna bet then?"
"Hmm.."
"No.. no. I already told you lot, no, I'm not doin' this again." Price says flatly, steely blue eyes darting between yours and Ghost's as he turns from his place in the passenger seat like a frustrated father, throwing in a glare towards Soap while he's at it.
Gaz pipes up from the driver's seat, "I mean, can't we at least see what they’re bettin’ before you tell them no?"
Again, Price's shoulders slump in defeat, turning to look out the windshield again,
"So, about that name tat-"
"No." Ghost says sternly, watching with a mischievous gleam as you pout back at him before huffing out a dramatic sigh,
"Fine.. I'll let you know when I think of something."
He grunts out an amused response, any further pushing interrupted as Mateo groans lowly, his eyelids fluttering rapidly, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Thankfully, it isn’t too long before you feel the van roll to stop at the sight we had staked out days ago; an old warehouse on the very outskirts of the small city. It used to be a railroad depot before it was converted into a homeless shelter, which was then abandoned most likely when funding ran out. No one has owned the space in over a decade, though it was still used time to time by squatters and the like.
Exiting the van, you move to follow the group as they take Mateo to a small room, strapping him securely to a metal chair. He's still groaning and mumbling out incoherent phrases and words, trying to pick his head up, but the sedative is doing a good job of keeping him in its fog.
"I would say we still have a few hours or so before he's ready to be questioned.." You say, checking the restrained man's vitals, making sure he's waking up properly before standing next to Price, who has already broken out a cigar, the fragrant cloud wafting around you,
"May I?" You ask lowly, holding your hand out towards him as he grips the smoldering brown stick between his index and middle finger. He glowers down at you for moment before conceding, and you take the cigar from him, bringing it to your lips, savoring the deep pull you take as you let it settle over your tongue, slowly blowing it out and smiling up at the captain with a devious grin, "Thanks, Cap."
"Go get some rest, Easy." He demands, wanting to be rid of you, and your not-so-subtle teasing.
"Aye-aye, Captain." You say, giving him a two finger salute as you saunter towards the team’s temporary rooms, finally feeling the hints of exhaustion beginning to settle in as you step into the make-shift bedroom. It's only separated from the next "room" by a thick curtain, and you pull it back just enough to see Soap sitting up in bed, furiously scribbling in his journal,
"Hey.." You say softly, causing him to quickly look up in your direction, a lopsided smile pulling at his lips as he takes you in,
"Ah- Guess we're roomies, eh?" He says, raising his eyebrows just slightly before nodding his head, inviting you closer. You hesitate for a moment, unsure of how to proceed now that you two were thoroughly alone, away from the mission, away from an audience, and completely unable to deny the tension that still hangs heavy in the air around you.
Moving to sit towards the end of the bed, you lean back, falling onto your elbows and looking at him under your lashes, "Thanks for.. playing along tonight."
Soap chuckles softly, bringing his hand up to rub across the nape of his neck, "Yeah.. you know, anythin' for the mission." His face taking on a mock seriousness, which is quickly betrayed by another small laugh as he takes me in, "You're really somethin'.."
It's been a long time since a man's been able to make you blush, but the way he's looking at you, studying you, it makes you want to melt right there. Taking back some control, you move off your elbows, sitting back up and leaning forward just slightly, just enough for him to notice how your chest rises and falls heavily,
"Johnny.." He shudders at the sound of his name on your lips, his amused expression falling into the familiar darkness you saw back at the party, after you had used him to garner the attention of your mark. There's only a brief moment that you study each other, waiting for the other to break first, and you must admit his self-control is impressive as your eyes slowly drag away from his left eye, down to his mouth, then slowly up to his right eye,
"Fuck it." Soap breathes out, lunging forward to grasp your face in his hands, crushing his lips to yours in a burning kiss that you feel radiate deep into your core. You both fight for dominance, his tongue taking it first before letting yours gain control as his hands wrap around your waist to easily pull onto his lap, your legs straddling his muscular thighs. He handles you with just the right balance of aggression and gentility, moving you how he wants, but doing so with a soft touch, and even softer kisses as he leaves a trail of wet chills down your throat.
You grasp the bottom edge of your shirt, tugging it over your head and tossing it to the side, letting him take a moment to appreciate you before you do the same with his dark t-shirt, quickly gliding your hands over his exposed skin. Soap's chest and torso are perfectly built, cut in all the right places yet still thick, each muscle rippling under his skin as goosebumps break out everywhere your hands and lips touch, "Do you have condoms, Johnny?"
You whisper hoarsely against his neck, pulling back to look up at him, "I do." he replies quickly, holding onto you with one hand as he leans down to fetch the cargo pants he had discarded after the mission, digging into the pocket to pull out a well-used wallet and producing a metallic square between his fingers with a grin.
He holds the square between his teeth as he flips our position quickly, and you can't help the small gasp that parts your lips at the unexpected move, looking up at his handsome face with wide eyes that elicits a heady chuckle, "Surprised you? Didn't think tha' was possible."
You pull the condom from between his teeth, holding it in your hand as you press your lips to his again, relishing in the heat he exudes, it radiates into you, warming your very core in more ways than one. And though there aren't many words spoken, you both speak fluently with your actions as your hands find the waistband of his sweatpants, pushing them down just enough to see the trail of hair that dips further, but he pulls back before you get the chance to see more,
"Johnny.." You whine, furrowing your eyebrows as you look up at him, silently pleading with him to close the distance between you once again, but he has other plans.
He kisses down your chest, a smile playing at his lips every time he hears your quiet mewls the lower he gets. You watch as he finally reaches your waistband, looking up at you under his eyebrows while he easily unbuttons your pants, the sounds of him pulling your zipper down seem to echo in the space around you.
Lifting your hips off the bed, he tugs them down, exposing the sheer fabric that hardly covers your cunt, "Fuck.. Easy-" His voice is low, and his breath comes faster now that he sees how the meshy material does nothing to hide the evidence of your arousal glistening up at him.
Finally, he lets you shove his pants down enough for his swollen cock to spring free, your mouth watering at the sight of every vein that bulges under the soft skin, how the tip weeps for you, beckoning you to taste him; but he grabs the still wrapped condom from your hand, tearing it open with his teeth in a quick motion, pulling the clear circle out before pushing it over the head of his length, rolling it down to settle almost around the base,
"You're sure?"
For a moment you want to chuckle at his question, you've already spread your legs for him, allowed him to settle between your thighs, allowed him to touch you in ways you hadn't permitted anyone to do so in a very long time; but, when you see how genuine he is, how he's asking for your permission, he isn't just assuming or taking charge.. no, he's wants to make sure that you want him as badly as he wants you right now, and you do. God, you do.
"Yes.. Johnny, yes." You breathe out, still nodding your head as he pushes into you. It's a slow thrust, both of you acclimating to how his length stretches you, your muscles splitting for him with a blissful sting. He lets out a shaky moan as he fills you, your nails digging into his back when you feel his tip brush against your cervix and his pelvis pushing flush against yours before he pulls away, his thrust forward a little rougher this time,
"God, y’feel so fuckin’ amazin’, Easy.." Soap grits out between his teeth, holding himself above you, his hands on either side of your head; and you can't help but to watch how the thick muscles in his arms flex and move as he ruts into you, the wet squelching quickly filling the open space.
This time you pull away, letting out a small moan as you feel the hollow in your core his absence leaves behind before you flip onto your stomach, moaning again when you feel his hands wrap around your hips to lift you to your knees in an effortless movement. He shifts his weight behind you, gently pressing his knee against the inside of yours to widen your stance as he slowly rubs his palm over the fleshy globe of your ass, causing a new wave of goosebumps to erupt over your skin at the sensation.
You push back into him, becoming desperate to feel him inside you again,
"Johnny.. I swear if you don't-" He plunges into you without warning, and a lewd moan tears from your throat, far too loud for the cavernous space around you as he brings his palm down over your mouth,
"Shhh.. Shh, Easy.. wouldn't want the others to hear, would we?"
You shake your head under his hand, feeling the prickle of tears in your eyes as he increases his pace, thrusting harshly into your cunt with a wet slap. Groaning quietly, he moves his hand away from your face as he finds a rhythm, bringing it to your hip in a blistering hold, but you can still feel the gentle way he rubs his thumb back and forth over your flesh. Even like this, Soap manages to be the kindest man you think you ever met, and it's that notion that seems to cause the impossibly tight coil deep in your pelvis to snap.
Pushing your face into his pillow, you try to bite back the hoarse scream that rips through your throat as each wave of your orgasm only seems to grow with every frenzied thrust from behind you. Only once you’re desperate for air do you pull your face up, gasping in a breath and hoping he doesn't let go of you because you would surely fall with the way your legs have all but turned to jelly,
"Give me one more, love. Just. One. More-"
You have no idea what consumes you in that moment, maybe it's the authority in his voice, or just him making such a command as he punctuates the last three words with thrusts so deep it makes you see stars, but you do exactly as he asks; you fall apart underneath him one more time, your lips hanging open in a silent scream,
"Fuuck- Easy.." Soap follows right behind you, plunging into you a final time, a string of Scottish and Gaelic words slipping out in his pleasure, your name sprinkled among them as well.
Neither of you move, and thankfully, he's still supporting you with a strong grip around your hips while you both fight to catch your breath, feeling him beginning to grow soft inside you as his hands softly squeeze the flesh beneath them.
You turn your head then, eyes widening at the sight of a shadow looming in the crack of the door that you were sure hadn't been there before. Dark eyes watch you from behind the white mask for a moment longer before his form disappears as quickly at it had appeared to you, and a strange feeling of excitement washes over you.
Ghost had just watched you get railed by his closest teammate. He had opened the door, he had chosen to stay, even after he obviously heard and saw what was going on here..
Your thoughts reel as Johnny pulls away, both of you collapsing onto the small bed, and you toy with the idea of telling him what you saw, but decide against it, wanting to get the truth from the brooding lieutenant for yourself first.
"You a'right?" Soap asks quietly, his large fingers tracing patterns over your skin.
You peer up at him, seeing the familiar, playful gleam in his gorgeous eyes before you nod, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to be at face level with him, "Mm, yes. Very much so.."
He chuckles quietly, bringing his palm to your cheek before threading his fingers through your hair to pull you forward. The kiss he presses into your lips is soft and sweet, a far cry from how you two had damn near attacked each other not even twenty minutes ago. But, you pull away first; you really don't want to, but you also can't risk him getting the idea that this was anything more than a one-time thing. That it was anything more than you both needing to blow off some steam, it was just things had gotten a little heated playing your roles; but, no need to let feelings get involved.
"I'll see you tomorrow." You say, sitting up to pull on your clothes as he does the same.
You let your eyes rake over his nude form unabashedly. Just like many of the men in this profession, you can tell Johnny is in extremely good shape, with muscles that bulge and ripple beneath skin that's littered with scars, some big, some small, and as he turns to face you after pulling on his boxer briefs you see that tantalizing trail of hair that starts around his naval and disappears below the gray waistband.
You stand, letting him watch you now as you only put your shirt and underwear back on, the underwear obviously not leaving anything to the imagination, before gathering the rest of your things in an exaggerated sweeping bend forward, knowing he's still got his eyes glued to you when you hear a low moan emanate from his chest,
"Sleep well, ma'am." He says breathlessly, and you give him a wink before crossing back to your side of the room, making sure to leave the curtain open just enough that you know he can see you undress again before turning the small light off. Without the artificial glow, the two spaces are quickly cast into almost complete darkness, aside from the small windows that form a line right at the ceiling.
And for the first time, in a very long time, sleep comes abnormally fast. With your body well and truly exhausted and the sound of Soap's long and even breaths trickling across the open space, you’re lulled you into deep and vivid dreams.