Chapter Text
Soap trudged up the stairs to his flat in Edinburgh with a grim twist of his lips, lugging his light duffel up the stairs and barging his way into his disused flat.
They’d been sent on mandatory leave, and of course it had been just as he’d been sure things between him and Ghost would finally come to boil that Price had inadvertently put the brakes on everything.
The thing between him and Ghost was nebulous and new, if it was even a thing at all.
Bloody fucking Christ, how can I not even know?
But Soap was sure there was a dark gleam in every brief, lidded look Ghost sent him on base nowadays - every casual, innocent touch setting his shoulders on edge.
There was nothing innocent or casual about the things Soap wanted that man to do to him, and he was sure he knew it.
Ghost avoided anyone else’s touch and attention as a rule, yet he invaded Soap’s proximity whenever he was given the chance. Pressing against his back to slip by him in uncrowded corridors, murmuring into his ear when speaking bloody normally would more than suffice -
It was driving him fucking mad.
When Soap was supposed to be focusing in dull, unimportant meetings, Ghost would lean down to whisper horrid, idiotic jokes into his ear, his hot breath and rasping laugh setting his nerves alight, and making him harder than he had any right to be in Shepherd’s fucking presence.
Something had to give, but now that they were miles apart, Soap would have to make do with his hand and paltry memories of Ghost’s rumbling voice if he didn’t want to be blue balled during what was supposed to be a nice, relaxing break.
+
It was the second week of what Soap had dubbed his Exile , when his phone rang.
That wasn’t unusual in of itself, but it was the late hour and the unknown string of numbers blinking on his screen that gave him pause. Still half asleep, he answered the call with his eyes sliding heavily shut.
“H’lo?” He mumbled grouchily.
There was no reply, and Soap began to drift off, his breath evening out as his fingers became dangerously slack around the phone.
“Soap.”
Oh.
That deep voice was one he’d shamefully imagined many times over since he’d been sent home. Of all people, Ghost was not someone he expected to make social calls while they were on leave.
Which is why he immediately dismissed the call as a dream.
Snuggling into his pillow, he smiled. “Hi Simon,” he breathed sleepily.
If he’d had his wits about him, he would’ve realised the man speaking on the phone was quite real.
There was another long pause, before dream Ghost spoke again.
“On a first name basis now, Johnny?” He mumbled, the curl of his voice pleasantly amused. “I don’t think I gave you permission.”
Soap hummed with a pleased smile.
“We’re not working,” he slurred. “You’re not the boss of me.”
Ghost’s voice was exceedingly fond when he laughed, “Childish.”
The sound of his laugh, so rare and warm, flipped his heart with adoration.
“Hmm Simon,” he sighed dreamily, drowsy and lovesick. “Miss you.”
The other man was silent for a long beat. When he spoke again, his voice was soft and gravelly, “Do you?”
“Aye.” If he was real, there was no universe where Soap would be half this honest, but since it was his dream, he decided he could say whatever the hell he wanted.
“Driving me mad, these dreams I have of you,” He mumbled.
“Why’s that, Johnny?” He sounded hushed and amused, and he knew this wasn’t real, because he never sounded quite so charmed with him in reality. “Tell me about them.”
It sounded so much like an order, and Soap emitted the tiniest, reediest little moan. The sharp inhale of surprise in his ear only made it so much sweeter.
“You do whatever you want to me in them, Lt,” he admitted sleepily.
“Do I now.” Ghost sounded darkly intrigued at that concept. “What do I do to you?”
Soap mumbled something intelligible, before he rolled over with a frown. Oblivion danced at the edges of his mind, and their conversation was sinking into the depths of his consciousness.
“I’m tired, Simon,” he slurred. “Talk later.”
He was already fast asleep before dream Ghost had the chance to respond. Phone still pressed to Soap’s ear, the call stayed connected for several soft, long breaths, before it ended with a low tone.
When he woke up in the morning, his phone had rolled to the floor, and Soap dismissed the odd conversation as a pleasant dream.
+
The next time the phone rang was an equally inconvenient time, albeit much earlier than the last.
Soap’s forearm was thrown restlessly over his sweaty brow, throat bobbing as he caressed his own stomach, ignoring his aching cock just as he ignored the piercing trill on his side table.
He was gearing up for a nice wank, and he shamelessly knew it would feature Ghost most prominently.
The memory of Ghost’s deep voice, raspy and liquid sin in his ear was more than enough to make him painfully hard, and Soap was beyond shame of his own desires at this point.
The dildo lodged in his insides was bigger than any he’d taken before, the size of it obscene and monstrous but so fucking good, pressed against his prostate just so.
He had a thing for big cock, he wasn’t ashamed of that fact, and Christ if that mountain of a man didn’t activate something primal in his tiny hindbrain.
Not that he knew if Ghost had a big cock, but his mind ran away with him and filled the gaps, imagining the possibilities of him, how he’d look and taste, how it would feel to have his huge body pressing him down and fucking him hard.
Christ.
Grunting softly, he rubbed the sensitive skin of his neck against his pillows, biting his lip as he stroked his inner thighs, poised to finally wrap his lubed hand around his aching cock-
His side table vibrated as his fucking phone rang yet again.
Who the fuck? Soap flailed for his mobile, almost dropping it in his haste.
Flustered with irritation, he carelessly swiped to accept the call, not registering the words on the screen before he’d already sealed his fate.
A FaceTime call, he realised with horror.
The screen shifted, and then Ghost’s lovely, ghoulish mask was staring back.
Bleedin’ fucking merciful Christ.
“I thought it was Simon?” Ghost snickered, and Soap cursed his loose lips, sure that his cock was starving his brain of precious blood. His laugh abruptly ceased as he seemed to notice Soap’s state.
It was almost midnight, and Soap was supine on his bed, naked shoulders and face glistening with sweat. He could see his own image mirrored back in the top corner of the screen, his rosy cheekbones and shrunken pupils painting an obvious picture.
He’d obviously been wanking, and Soap couldn’t even claim he’d been caught - he’d answered the bloody call and invited this nightmare in without thinking.
“What are you up to, Johnny?” The timbre of his voice had dropped, curling wickedly through the receiver as dark glee glinted in his eyes. “Have I caught you at a bad time?”
“Hm-fine,” Soap croaked, blinking nervously, as though he could blink the lust from his features somehow. “What’s up?”
Ghost shifted, and he saw the wooden beams of a dark headboard behind him.
FaceTiming me in bed. Soap swallowed. Jesus.
It was a dream come true, having the real man attached to that delectable voice speaking softly to his face after so long without hearing it, even if it was through the barrier of the phone.
Soap’s neglected cock throbbed insistently and without consciously deciding to, he wrapped a hand around the root, exhaling shakily. His walls fluttered around the huge silicone cock pressed deep inside, and he squirmed in discomfort.
His eyes fluttered, and his thighs flexed impatiently, but he wouldn’t toss himself off while on a video call to Ghost.
He wouldn’t.
That didn’t stop the slow, cautious glide of his loose fist up his slick cock. When he reached the sensitive tip, his abdomen clenched.
Ghost tilted his head to the side, and he wondered what the other man could deduce from such a limited vantage point.
Quite a lot, apparently.
“Are you touching yourself?” Ghost whispered suddenly, and Soap’s eyes snapped open, hand freezing guiltily on his cock.
There was no point denying it.
But Soap decided he’d try to anyway.
“No,” he said quickly, even as his cock twitched tellingly in his hand, as if to crow, ‘liar.’
“Hm.” Ghost’s eyes narrowed. “Are you lying, Sergeant?”
Soap very much did not moan, but it was a close thing. He coughed to cover the noise, but he wasn’t sure it was at all convincing.
Ghost called him that all the time by necessity, but not like that - with secret, hushed delight, his eyes huge and fathomless as he dissected him like it was nothing.
His own voice was thick as he whispered weakly, “You’re not in charge of me here.”
Alone in his bed in Scotland, countless miles away from Ghost, he knew those words had never been less true.
Ghost’s eyes creased in amusement, and Soap suspected that whatever game they were playing, Ghost was at least several hundred leagues ahead of him.
“You’re wrong,” Ghost murmured, voice somehow both fond and mocking as he pulled the phone away from himself, slowly revealing his own pale, muscular, and very naked chest to Soap’s greedy eyes.
“Jesus,” Soap whispered with feeling, breath seizing in his lungs.
Is he properly naked, too?
He was shamelessly ogling the bare planes of Ghost’s scarred torso, admiring his pink nipples and the juicy pillows of his pectorals, imagining what it would be like to sink his teeth into the fleshy muscle, when Ghost’s laughing voice snapped him out of his reverie.
“I don’t need the rank to own you, do I, Johnny?”
Fucking what.
Soap made a garbled, choked noise as his higher functions failed.
I should really let go of my cock.
It twitched in protest, and he whimpered at the low pulse of pleasure singing up his spine.
Ghost, the absolute bastard, was definitely still laughing at him.
If he’d thought there was any mystery between them when he left base those weeks ago, all doubts were gone from his mind now.
“In fact,” Ghost added, and Soap faintly wheezed at his rumbling, throaty purr. “Looks like I don’t even need to be there to control you.”
He tossed his head back, skin tight and overwarm as he moaned, “Ghost.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, he was so right, and his shame about that fact was nowhere to be found.
“Am I right?” Ghost needled, and Soap was too far gone to offer any protest.
“Aye, you got me there, Lt,” he mumbled, before he chuckled a little dreamily.
Soap couldn’t help but laugh at this perfect, evil man, who seemed to have total control of his body with just his voice.
“Caught me red handed.” He licked his lips, and watched Ghost’s eyes drift down on the screen, following the movement keenly. “Hand on my cock an’ all.”
His dark eyes snapped up.
“Show me,” Ghost ordered, and Soap gaped gormlessly, brain struggling to comprehend his words.
Well, that was the natural progression of things, but he couldn’t have known Ghost would go straight for it.
Fuck, if it wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever heard, though.
Straightforward man he is, he thought dumbly. Knows what he wants.
Although he was only too happy to oblige, there was something Soap wanted in return.
“Show me yours, and I’ll show you mine,” Soap demanded huskily, and Ghost huffed.
Ghost zoomed out slowly, revealing his bare abdomen, dusted with fine hair near his navel, but refusing to show anything further.
Soap pouted. Tease.
Ghost tsked at his sulky face. “Behave, and I’ll give it to you.”
Give it to me?
“Yes please,” Soap blurted, and Ghost’s pale shoulders shook with poorly suppressed mirth.
Ghost’s voice sounded deeply pleased when he murmured, “So obedient.”
The praise shot a bolt of want straight to his cock, and he moaned.
“Show me,” Ghost whispered, and Soap exhaled, unceremoniously hitting the button on his phone to switch from selfie view to his front camera.
The preview in the top corner showed his own splayed thighs, knees bent wide, framing his hard, wet cock held loosely in his fist, the tip flushed pink and slick with desire.
He tightened his grip, the lube and precum squelching at the sudden pressure, and he saw Ghost shift restlessly at the noise.
Without needing to be told, he shamelessly gave himself a slow, teasing stroke, and he grunted softly at the feeling. Soap slowly stroked himself, gently encircling his tip between a few fingers and tightening into a fist on the downstroke, spreading the pearly slick over his length.
“Very good,” Ghost murmured huskily, and Christ if that didn’t just make it so much hotter, so much better than imagining him in his head. “Faster now, that’s it.”
Soap moaned incoherently and stroked harder, watching Ghost’s intent, masked face on the screen as his climax crept ever closer.
He was already too on edge from working the artificial cock inside of him, he wasn’t sure how long he could last having Ghost urging him on.
And it seemed like Ghost knew it, too.
“Close, Johnny?” He asked innocently, and Soap froze his hand on his lurching cock, watching a fat glob of precum spill over his fingers. Panting, he gently pinched his head, holding his imminent release at bay.
“Not gonna last with you talking like that, Simon,” he whined, thighs trembling as the muscles in his stomach tightened.
“Thought I told you,” Ghost murmured laughingly. “Didn’t give you permission to call me that.”
Hang on.
His lust addled brain was slow to piece the memory together.
It was then that Soap realised the dream fantasy of his Lieutenant calling him in the dead of night was not a dream at all.
“This isn’t the first time you called me,” Soap said slowly.
Ghost’s eyes creased. “No.”
Ah.
Soap tensed as their conversation slowly filtered back into his mind.
Oh bleedin’ Christ.
No wonder he’s being so forward.
Him spilling his deepest desires out to Ghost while half asleep certainly had a way of clarifying things, he supposed.
“Keep going,” Ghost urged, and after a beat Soap complied, stroking himself slowly but hissing when his orgasm curled ominously in his middle.
Soap wasn’t ready to come yet.
Not until he got what he wanted.
“You first, remember,” he purred, palming his sensitive thighs teasingly, his cock bobbing angrily against his own middle in neglect. “I want to see you.”
Rather than switch camera views, Ghost moved a pillow somewhere in front of him, and then the world shifted, and Soap had a delightful front row view between Ghost’s spread thighs, and the huge bulge nestled beneath his tight briefs.
Jesus, Mary, fuck.
He was huge. All of him was.
Soap knew he was bigger than him, but his clothes didn’t lend themselves to revealing just how much bigger he was.
His whole body was solid, and between his muscled thighs and arms, his delightfully pillowy chest, and the barest hint of softness at his middle, the sight of Ghost in his mask and underwear made his hole clench hard on his fake cock.
He could crush Soap under his weight, and he’d die happy from the privilege.
He couldn’t even see his cock properly, but he knew he was packing something monstrous beneath his tight grey pants. He watched the wet patch blooming on the tented fabric with a tiny sigh.
I knew you’d be huge, he thought dopily.
“Show it to me,” Soap begged.
Ghost’s laugh was raspy, cruel and sinful to his ears. The outline of him through his pants was obscene. “I will,” he said, flexing his cock deliberately beneath his underwear and cupping himself.
The noise that slipped from his mouth was high and desperate, torn right from the depths of his throat.
Soap had died and gone to heaven, he was sure of it.
“Still with me, Sergeant?” Ghost asked patiently, and Soap garbled an affirmative.
“Good,” Ghost said, and he hooked both of his thumbs into his waistband, and slowly, so painfully slowly, he peeled his sodden pants down, revealing every veiny, plump inch of his thick cock to Soap’s eager gaze.
Ghost’s phone must be leaning on a pillow, he thought dopily. His hands are free.
The fat head of him was glossed over with his own white slick, more beading and dripping down his long shaft as it was exposed to the air. His balls were round and weighty, and Soap followed the line of precum as it dripped down between his sack.
He was far, far thicker and longer than anything Soap had ever taken, and his mouth watered hungrily.
Rather than take them fully off, Ghost rested the fabric of his pants under his balls, framing his cock neatly where it rested against his middle.
“Fuck you’re a big boy,” Soap purred huskily, clutching at his thighs to stop himself from grasping at his own cock.
“Not bad yourself, Johnny” he murmured, and Soap preened, squirming in his sheets.
Soap couldn’t be sure if it was the fallout from his dream confession or the view of his perfect cock, but something had snapped in his brain, and he couldn’t stop the words if he tried.
“Want to take it,” Soap mumbled. “Want it all, Simon.”
He forgot that he wasn’t allowed to say his name, but Ghost didn’t seem overly bothered by his slip up.
“You can try,” he said fondly.
Soap scowled, before he realised the other man couldn’t see his face. “You think I can’t?”
“No one ever has.” He said, not unkindly, “But as I said, you’re welcome to try.”
Something possessive roared to life inside of his brain at the challenge. The monstrous, silicone prick up his arse, and his greedy, salivating mouth fully rejected his words.
“Really, never?” Soap murmured lowly, an eager curl to his words. “I’ll be the first one, then.”
Just for me, he thought smugly.
“Doubt that, Johnny,” he snickered, but Soap smirked, undeterred.
Soap would relish taking that perfect prick down his throat and up his arse the moment he was given the chance.
He won’t know what hit him, Soap thought smugly.
“I can prove it,” Soap stressed, scrambling to move a spare pillow between his thighs, mirroring Ghost’s set up perfectly.
He quickly switched the camera back to selfie mode, sending Ghost a cheeky wink before he slowly leant forward, resting the phone on the pillow and giving him a full view of his own sweaty, naked body.
Ghost’s eyes roamed slowly across the screen, and Soap spotted the exact moment he noticed the fleshy aberration lodged between his cheeks.
“Johnny,” he said roughly, sounding oddly dumbstruck.
Soap spread his legs wide with a grin. The flared base of the dildo concealed its true size inside of him, and hid just how uniquely qualified Soap was to take on Ghost’s ridiculous cock.
Nestling into his pillows, he sent Ghost a slow, lascivious smirk as he slowly pulled the silicon from his hole, exhaling bodily as every inch of artificial flesh slid along his insides, toes curling when only the bulbous tip remained.
The full girth and length of the dildo, so fat and weighty in his hands, was revealed to both of their eyes, and Ghost’s cock bobbed tellingly when he saw just how big it truly was. Soap circled the tip of it around his loose rim, showing off just how stretched and ready he was.
“I can take it,” Soap hissed as he pushed the full length smoothly back inside, and Ghost groaned, the wrecked noise sounding like victory in his ears.
“Fuck,” Ghost said roughly, palming the meat of his own cock in his hands. “You’d love to try, wouldn’t you?”
Soap nodded wildly, fingertips digging into his thighs as the silicone prick bottomed out in his hole. The head of it touched that little bundle of nerves, and his cock jerked powerfully, dribbling precum as he writhed wildly.
His eyes were glued to Ghost’s huge hand as he idly caressed the skin of his balls and underside, occasionally thumbing the pooling slick on his glans. He seemed content to explore and tease himself for Soap’s viewing pleasure, and his restraint only drove Soap wild.
Ghost was so wet, his precum endlessly streaking down his cock with no signs of relenting, and Soap felt an answering pulse of warmth trail down his own skin as he ground the dildo against his prostate again and again.
I want it, he thought dazedly, licking his lips absently.
“What do you want, Johnny?” He sounded strained, as though he was just as moved by Soap’s display as he was by Ghost.
“Everything,” Soap cried, twisting the cock in and out of himself faster now, throwing his arm around his middle, not wanting to come yet, not until Ghost bloody touched himself properly, too, “Want all of you, want everything.”
He wanted far too much. Soap whimpered his name again, body trembling as his orgasm threatened to crash.
Fuck, he was too close, and Ghost still wasn’t moving.
Soap wanted to see that pretty flushed tip explode with come, wanted to see it ruin Ghost’s huge hands, see it spill over his tattooed arms more than anything he’d wanted in his entire life.
“Jesus fuck, Simon,” he groaned in pleasured agony. “Are ye gonna try come or not?”
Instead of touching himself properly as he hoped, Ghost released his cock and rested his hands on his open thighs. “Not coming yet.”
Soap whined, “When, then?” He didn’t think he could come again after this, but he would try if Ghost asked him.
He’d do just about anything this beautiful, brute of a man asked him.
“I’m saving it for you,” Ghost crooned, eyes glinting terribly.
“Huh,” he gasped dumbly.
Ghost parted his thighs more for Soap’s gluttonous eyes, and the fullness of his balls, the aching, heavy girth of him bobbed under his gaze.
“When I do come,” he said silkily. “I’ll be right inside your tight little arse, and I won’t come until you’re bouncing on my cock and begging me for it.”
Soap saw white, mouth agape as he fucking whined.
“Would you do that for me, Johnny?” He asked, dark and syrupy sweet. “Let me fill you with come?”
Ghost cupped his balls as another rivulet of white twined down his swollen cock.
Soap was nodding frantically before Ghost was even finished. “You’ll take it all, won’t you?”
Soap blubbered eagerly, fucking himself with long, sensuous pulls, so overstimulated it almost hurt. “Look at me,” Ghost ordered, and Soap snapped his pained, glazed eyes open, craning to look at his phone.
“Asked you a question, didn’t I?”
“Aye, sir,” Soap whined, uncaring of his submission. He wanted it all, but most of all he wanted him here with him. “You can do whatever you want to me, Lt.”
“Good boy,” Ghost said softly, and Soap’s heart suddenly felt too large for his chest, hearing the naked affection in his voice.
He was a grown fucking man, but hearing Ghost call him good sent his mind to the stratosphere.
God I’ll be good, so good for you, he thought mindlessly, hips twitching erratically off the bed.
“I know, Johnny,” Ghost said warmly. “You’ll be perfect.”
The sweet praise made Soap feel owned, and he was dizzy like he’d never felt before, like he’d lost complete control of himself.
It felt like the purest form of bliss known to man.
Little breathy grunts and moans were spilling forth with every thrust of his pretend cock, and he knew he was going to come all over himself, just from Ghost’s filthy promises and the silicone bumping that bundle of nerves inside of him.
The deep smile in Ghost’s eyes, heavy with promise as he pulled his underwear back over his neglected cock was enough to send him over the edge.
“Simon,” he gasped, eyes wide on the screen, moans hitching and crescendoing as his climax tore through his body. He mashed the fake cock to the hilt and came in deep, clenching pulses over his stomach, body arching up as ecstasy shattered him apart.
Warm pearly lines surged out of his cock, coating his heaving abdomen and roping wildly up his body. When one particularly forceful pulse arched and painted his open mouth, he moaned eagerly, licking the come eagerly from his lips.
Ghost swore, fondling his bulge roughly as his thighs tensed harshly.
“Gonna come?” Soap asked breathily, grinding the dildo against his arse and milking his own cock for every last drop. He slowly pulled it fully out, showing off his slackened, fluttering hole for Ghost’s ravenous eyes. “Thought you were saving it for me?”
There was something dangerous building in Ghost now, he could see it in his eyes, a savage tension bending his body over as he stared darkly through the viewfinder. He was a brittle wire pulled far too taut, ready to snap at any given moment, but he had no outlet, not with the distance between them.
He’s in Manchester, a little hopeful thought reminded him. Not that far.
Having this effect on Ghost was a sweet, heady sort of power that he intended to abuse mercilessly.
Soap flattened his feet on the bed and spread himself wide, shivering at the exposure on his sensitive hole, and scooped the mess of semen from his body and onto his fingers. With a put upon whimper, he flexed his entrance as though grasping for an invisible cock, and Ghost hissed.
“Simon,” he whispered, and Ghost’s cock flexed beneath his briefs at the noise.
He didn’t need to be told what to do, he could see the desire clear as day even with Ghost’s face almost completely concealed by the mask.
Soap sighed as he pressed his come-laden fingers against his hole, rubbing the glob of semen loosely around the entrance, uncaring when it trickled down his crack and dripped onto his sheets.
“Put it inside, Johnny,” Ghost said urgently, voice wavering between an order and a plea, and Soap happily obliged. He swept three soaked digits inside with a sigh, luxuriating in the slick heat of his own spend and lube and idly fucking himself until his knuckles were flush with his arse.
With the filthy mess plugged, he clenched rhythmically, cooing when he felt it seep around his fingers and ooze slowly out of his hole.
“Give me your address,” Ghost whispered, voice flat and terrible.
Soap fluttered his eyelashes at him and pumped his digits steadily. “Hm?” He hummed guilelessly. “It’s the dead of night, Simon,” he purred, rubbing his arse sensuously against the wet sheets. “There’s no flights-”
“Don’t care,” Ghost practically seethed, and Soap tossed his face to his side into the pillow to conceal his grin. His smile faltered when he added, “I’ll drive.”
There was a slight fear forming in his mind now, not for himself, but for others on the road. The last time I saw him drive, he ran several people over.
Looking at the phone again, he could only see Ghost’s masked face as he walked around his room, and the sound of clothes being thrown around and the snap of a zip startled him.
Christ, he’s serious. A little frisson of anticipation shot up his spine.
“Address,” Ghost demanded, and Soap blinked.
He gently pulled his fingers out of him with a grunt, and Ghost briefly paused in his flurry to watch, blinking slowly between his hole and his relaxed face before he snapped back into action.
Soap picked up his phone and texted him the number, hearing an echoing chime from Ghost’s end as it came through. He searched up the distance between them on his GPS app with a raised brow.
“You’re four hours away, Lt,” Soap reminded him, snickering in open delight.
Ghost sounded inexplicably pleased. “Go to sleep, then. I’ll be there soon.”
“I can’t leave my door unlocked,” Soap said mildly. “If you are really coming tonight, ring me when you get here.”
The world around Ghost swirled again, dipping into almost complete darkness, and there was a blur of motion, and the distinct sound of a car door slamming shut ringing throughout Soap’s bedroom.
Oh.
“No need,” Ghost murmured. “I’ll let myself in.”
Soap chuckled nervously. “You don’t need to break in, Simon.”
Ghost’s laugh echoed darkly, and the sound of an engine roaring to life almost drowned his words out entirely.
“Simon?” He asked.
“Dream of me, Johnny.” The lilt of Ghost’s voice was soft and full of inky promise, a loving caress on his ears. In the dark of his car, he could see the blurry whites of his lidded eyes piercing a hole directly into his soul. “I’ll be with you soon.”
Soap called his name, fully exasperated now, but the call ended without another word.
With a sigh he rolled out of bed and padded to the window, knowing that him being on the second bloody floor would not at all be a deterrent for Ghost. Keen to avoid getting his window permanently destroyed, he unlatched the lock and fell back into bed with a yawn.
As Soap’s eye drifted shut, he wondered exactly what sort of mad Simon-shaped monster he’d just invited into his flat - but he slept soundly and dreamed of him anyway.
Just as he’d been ordered.