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Soap was …
He was a man the rookies looked up to, a man the 141 depended on, a man his captain could trust … a man?
Soap had been out for years.
Years.
He’d come out at 14 as a man. His mum had pulled him close ‘I know baby’. His dad had said ‘I always wanted a son’.
His mum had scowled at him. Johnny had scowled at him.
Nothing wrong with a daughter. They’d said.
No, but you’re my son, his daddy had replied, and I knew, and I wanted.
At 25 it was almost all he could remember.
But when Ghost purred at him part of him couldn’t help but wonder …
Ghost didn’t know. No. No one did. ‘cept Price.
But what if. That voice in his head whispered.
What if they could tell.
What if Ghost could tell.
The man he hadn’t seen look twice at another man.
But what if Ghost had looked and Soap hadn’t noticed?
What if Ghost was interested in men and he pulled down Soap’s trousers to see …
Soap had always known he was a man.
He had told his mum proudly.
Had punched a kid in the face at 15 for trying to say otherwise.
His dad had laughed and rubbed at his head in front of a scowling head teacher.
Never doubted himself … except.
Ghost.
Oh Ghost.
“In English.”
“Soap?”
“Johnny?”
Oh. Ghost.
Soap wanted the mans name to roll off his tongue as pleasure wracked through his body.
Ghost.
Lt.
Simon.
SIMON.
“Of course, no?”
No.
“Yes.”
YES
Maybe that was when Soap realised.
He thinks it’s when Ghost realised.
When he imagined arguing the fact with Soap.
“Yes.” The man would growl later.
Backing Soap against the wall.
Yes.
His hands would grab Johnny’s head and his eyes would search his before dipping down into a kiss.
He knew Ghost loved their height difference.
Soap used to but what if. Their height difference. What if it wasn’t cute but because he was a -
And Soap would breathe in as Ghost exhaled and their breath would be one. Their breaths would stutter, and they would pull each other close.
Too close.
Ghost would push him against the wall after the mission and it would just be them and and AND
And Ghost started to move towards Soap but Johnny froze before Ghost’s leg could slot between his and Ghost froze.
A centimetre away.
No.
And he ran.
Ghost didn’t do uncertainty or confusion but in that moment, Soap saw it he saw it.
He hated it.
He ignored it.
Ghost ignored it. Because he was good, too good.
He knew Soap knew he did.
Before Ghost’s leg could slot between his.
Soap wished he’d been that strong.
He’d groaned as Ghost’s thigh made contact, as it dragged up against his core and Ghost’s hands had pushed his hips back to brace him against the wall. As Ghost had rolled his hips into him and dove his tongue in and whispered ‘Johnny’.
It wasn’t Ghost that had made Soap back away it was Johnny.
Ghost had known he must have known.
He hadn’t been surprised as his leg had dragged against the empty space between Soap’s thighs he’d been excited.
It’s worse.
It’s WORSE Soap thinks as he buries his head into the pillows.
How had he known how had he known?
Weeks pass.
Ghost is too polite.
British idiot.
Soap hated those British fucks. So caught up in their politeness. He’d never say anything. Even if he was disgusted. Soap knows he knew but he probably didn’t truly realise until his lips were on Soaps. That’s why he backed away.
Soap backed away.
No. No? Ghost backed away at the softness of Soap’s lips. At the curve he felt on his hips.
He was too polite to break Johnny’s heart.
Bloody English.
“So don’t wanna say anything?” Soap had asked and he hated the genuine confusion on Ghost’s face as the other man licked his lips. A nervous gesture that set Soap on edge.
“I … I wanted to give you space”.
Soap snorted.
“Wanted to give yourself space more like. Scared to realise you fell for the … the freak the …” He grits his teeth and finally looks into Ghost’s eyes and can’t stand to look into what he finds, “The woman”.
Ghost takes a step back.
Soap knew it. Knew Ghost hadn’t wanted to confront it, but it didn’t hurt any less.
Soap had been 14 when he’d told his parents, his world. He’d been 15 when he’d punched a kid for saying otherwise because it had seemed so ridiculous for anyone to argue. He was a boy. He had been a boy. Always.
He was the 141.
He was a man who did what was right.
A man.
A man?
He was …
Soap wasn’t sure what he was anymore. He had never doubted it but the man in front of him made him and he hated him for it.
He hated him more for the fact that Ghost had never done anything to make him think that.
Soap finally understood the confusion on Ghost’s face. He always could read that man. Ghost wondered why Soap felt that way. Why Soap would think of him and god wasn’t that unfair?
Ghost who loved Soap for all his quirks and annoyances. Why would Soap think Ghost couldn’t stand him now because of this? He knew it was wrong. Soap knew it was wrong to think that of Ghost but god … god he was so scared.
He turned to run.
To run from his fears. His fears of Ghost not accepting him … his … his fears of Ghost accepting him and having to admit it was him, Soap, who had thought that lowly of Ghost when he’d never cared in his entire life of knowing who he was.
But Ghost caught his wrist because of course he did.
“Soa- Sargent” The voice comes out rough at first but steadies.
There’s a pause.
“I …” He’s never heard Ghost hesitate. “I shouldn’t have done … what I did and I’m sorry. I’ve asked Price to meet with you tomorrow to report me. I’ve given him the basics of my … assault but I didn’t go into it because it’s up to you for the details”.
Soap doesn’t understand at first.
“I respect you Johnny – Sargent MacTavish. And I read the signs wrong and that’s my fault I should’ve asked first. Should’ve checked in first. But I’ll be requesting a transfer after your report, or a dismissal if you’d prefer.”
He lets go of Soap's wrist, takes a deep breath, and nods, before beginning to walk away.
He reaches the end of the hall before Soap speaks up, finally able to find his voice.
“What in the bleedin’ fuck’re you on ‘bout Ghost?” Soap manages to get out. It takes a lot but is somehow easy.
Ghost pauses and turns back slowly.
“Sargent don’t. Don’t pretend I didn’t do what I did” He says.
“Kiss me, you mean.”
“Assault you.” Ghost growls. “I clearly misread and that’s on me. As your Lieutenant. I’m sorry Soap – Johnny, I am. I shouldnt’ve … It’s why you’ve been avoiding me. I’ve made your life hard.”
“Avoiding you.” Soap parrots and Ghost flinches.
“Avoiding me, I know. I don’t want to apologise anymore Sargent. It feels disrespectful so I’ll give you your space.
Price expects you at 0800 tomorrow”
He begins to walk away and for a moment the cogs in Soap’s head turn too slowly but before he realises what’s happening he’s the one grabbing Ghost’s wrist. The other man stiffens.
“Don’t fuck with me” Soap growls.
“I’d never” Ghost replies and Soap believes him.
Somehow.
“You … You KNOW I only reacted like that because you could tell I-“ Soap grits his teeth, and he resents how he feels. How Ghost has made him feel. It isn’t his fault. He still hates Ghost for it. “You could tell I was trans … transgender”
Ghost frowns. “Soap I’ve … Johnny I’ve always known.”
Soap freezes.
“You told me the first night we went out drinking. Price tried to stop you but you said you could trust me because someone who wore a mask like I did must know something about keeping part of himself hidden.”
Soaps world comes crashing around him.
But in the centre of it, Ghost doesn’t let him get hurt.
His world crumbles but somehow at the centre of it Ghost and Soap stand strong. Soap doesn’t get hurt.
“But earlier … I said … woman”
Ghost chuckles and runs a hand down his face.
“Christ, Johnny”
Soap doesn’t understand.
“When you said woman, I thought you meant you identified as a woman now.”
“And what” Soap spits, “That didn’t freak you out? Or maybe you were happy?” He sneers
He looks at Ghost angrily but the man just gets that confused face again.
“No?” He asks. Asks? Says. “No, I like you, Soap. For you. Whoever you are. The man you are now. Whoever you are in the future.”
Nobody speaks for a moment.
“Did you really only react that way because you were scared about me knowing you were transgender?”
“Yes. Ghost. Yes.” Soaps eyes roam Ghost's entire face, looking for a hint of discomfort, “Yes Simon. I promise.”
“The meeting is still there. If you feel like … the meeting will still happen, and you’ll never have to deal with me. I’ll go now I swear it.”
“Christ's sake Simon.” Soap chokes out, “It was me okay I … I freaked out. Thought when your leg pressed into me that –“
The words get stuck in his throat and he begins to fall against the wall, but his head doesn’t hit it because Simon’s hand cradles it.
“Soap. Johnny. I’ve -” Ghost takes a deep breath, running his thumb over Soap’s cheek. “I’ve loved you for a long time. You are the man I love. But more importantly, I love you for you.”
Johnny wanted to speak but his words get stuck in his throat. Instead, he gasps and leans forward, capturing Ghost’s lips in his.
He’d always imagined Ghost to be a forceful kisser. But instead, he was soft and passionate. It made Soap feel loved.
Ghost groans, more receptive than Soap could ever have imagined. He pushes Soap fully against the wall and his hands run down Soap’s thighs. His nails drag along the outside and Soap groans, his head tilting back as much as it can. Ghost takes advantage of it and drags his teeth against Johnny’s throat, teasing, and threatening, but not causing any permanent damage.
His hands drag back down Soap’s thighs again and there’s an uplifting pressure on Soap’s legs that give him a choice and Soap groans out a yes. He lifts his weight, jumping slightly, and suddenly most of his body weight is against the wall, the rest of it pressing against Ghost.
Ghost is shaking and Soap is the first to roll his hips. As he does Ghost lets out a punched-out breath and pushes forward, pinning Soap even further against the wall, as if he’d been waiting for Soap to allow it.
The pair move against each other for so long that Soap’s mind goes hazy, and relaxed.
For the first time, he’s in no rush.
He feels when the wetness reaches his trousers, and as he groans Ghost mirrors him and causes more of a reaction. He can feel himself leaking through his boxers and trousers, onto Ghost who presses against him.
They rut against each other like teenagers against the wall, but Soap can’t bring himself to care.
Ghost wraps his arms around Soap’s waist, separating him from the wall slightly, and he buries his head into Johnny’s neck.
“Soa – Johnny” He groans, and his hips start to stutter in time with Soap, and Soap feels greedy for the first time in his life.
He whispers praises to the other man until he feels him jerk finally against him, a rush running through his own body, his libs going taught as his head presses back against the wall. The waves of pleasure run through him, and he surges down to meet Simon’s lips. They don’t do much but breathe each other in but it’s enough to satisfy Soap and he groans. Loudly.
Eventually, the pair stop rutting against each other and they’re suddenly aware they’re still in the corridor, where anyone could have seen them.
Soap can’t bring himself to care.
Johnny doesn’t seem to either
This is the man he loves.
And he’s the man.
The man Ghost loves.