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It had been a long fucking mission, is what it had been. Sure, they had succeeded in the end, but Price had lost a good few cigars doing it. It was his own fault for bringing them, he supposed, but damn if he wasn’t just a bit gutted.
And now. Now, he had to find his men and get a debrief. Ghost, specifically— kid was really living up to his name at the moment. He and Soap had disappeared together before Price was able to grab them. It was very much against protocol, but considering the culprits he couldn’t be too upset. Ghost and him had something of a… history, and as for Soap, well, Price had always had a soft spot for the kid. Cheeky brat had a special place in his heart.
He knocked on the door to Ghost’s office once. Twice, when he got no response. A voice carried through, at last.
“Come in,” Ghost said. His voice was deep, rough. If Price had to name it, he would say it sounded like good whiskey tasted, smoky amber that burned as it slid down your throat. It reminded Price of those nights— hot and heavy memories— of pent-up shags in the middle of nowhere, when there hadn’t been a good night’s sleep in weeks.
Price turned the handle and it gave way easily, left unlocked.
“I don’t care how tired you are—“ He started to say, fond exasperation in his tone. He stopped in surprise as he looked up to where he knew the main desk to be.
When he entered Ghost’s office, there were a lot of things he might have expected to see, but this wasn’t one of them. Not that he was complaining.
It turned out that ‘hot and heavy’ wasn’t too far off.
“So this was where you boys rushed off to,” Price said, voice low as he leaned back on the door behind him.
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
Ghost looked up at him, and Price could feel him smirking through the balaclava. On his lap, Soap turned his gaze down like a toddler caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Ghost’s arm wound around his back, keeping him in place, and Soap didn’t fight it. Interesting.
“Enjoying the view?” Ghost asked, shameless.
Hell’s fucking bells, this kid.
The smirk in Ghost’s eyes glinted brighter, catching the way Price’s throat bobbed as he beckoned the captain over to an empty seat. That smirk tracked the captain as he walked, hungry. Soap squirmed in his place, reaction opposite as he turned away to mouth wet kisses to the seam where Ghost’s mask met flesh, like he was trying to hide in them.
Watching closely, Price leaned back into the chair. Eyes went sharp as they took a moment, examining every detail of the scene in front of them. The way Soap looked so small there, wrapped up in Ghost’s lap. They way Ghost lounged, legs spread, a predator toying with his prey. The way Soap bit his lower lip to muffle the whines he so clearly had stuck in his throat, as though their lack would make the scene in front of Price any less incriminating.
Price pulled out a cigar and lit it. One of his good ones— a Padron 1926 Serie no. 35 Maduro. The occasion warranted one.
He watched as Ghost ordered Soap to still, and to his surprise, the kid went easily. All pliant, like a lump of C-4 in expert hands.
He whistled. What a sight that was. Ghost looked even more smug under his mask, like he knew just what sort of scene he had created. The cat who ate the canary.
Unabashed, he reached down to cup Soap’s cock through the cargo pants.
“C’mon, Johnny, no hiding. Acting like you haven’t creamed yourself thinking of this.” Thick fingers continued pumping, relentless, even as a wet spot leaked through the fabric.
“Go on, spread your legs for the Captain. Show Price how happy you are to see him.”
Soap kept his head buried, whimpering, but opened his legs. Price eyed him, sharp as a hawk, catching a good view of just how affected his boy really was.
Soap blushed a pretty red all the way up to his ears, looking so young— so small— perched up there between Ghost’s thick thighs. His fingers scrambled against Ghost’s chest, rucking up that tight shirt and gripping for purchase. He looked like a starving man, with his other hand barely able to wrap halfway around Ghost’s neck, nails digging in. It was like he was on the edge of a cliff, and Ghost was the only thing keeping him from falling. The hand at his back moved to curl up into his hair, and Prince could see Soap’s cock twitch as Ghost grabbed a fistful and yanked tight. Could see Soap lost between the distress of losing his mouth on Ghost’s flesh and the sheer bliss of the brutality of it all.
“Said ‘no hiding,’ sweetheart,” Ghost gruffed, eyes still watching Price.
And then Soap was looking at him too, pupils blown wide and dark. Every time his gaze trailed off, like clockwork, Ghost would drag it back.
“Never seen him so obedient before,” Price said.
“You just weren’t training him right. Gotta put the bitch in his place,” and here Ghost flicked at the head of Soap’s cock, right against the zipper, “ain’t that right, lad?”
If Soap had tried to answer, it was drowned out by his own choked out moan.
“Bloody hell,” Price breathed. His mouth moved before his brain had time to stop it.
“Just gagging for it, ain’t ya, son?”
Ghost answered for him, like Soap wasn’t even there.
“Horniest bitch I’ve ever met. Blew a load in just 30 when I first jerked him.”
“Minutes?” Price asked, brow raised.
Ghost gave a ruthless grin.
“Seconds.”
Price threw his head back and laughed. Soap burned redder, if that was even possible. The humiliation of his two commanding officers talking about him like he wasn’t even there, just a slut rutting desperately against anything that could fuck him, made his eyes shine glossy and wet. He would be lying if he said he didn’t fucking love it. Two big, powerful men looming over him, both of whom could snuff him out in barely a moment.
God, yes .
Ghost with those big fucking hands and even bigger fucking cock choking him with the barrel of his gun as Price speared him open from behind. Threatening to blow his brains out if he didn’t show the captain what his ass was made for. Price would lean over his shoulder, silent, watching as his lieutenant slid the gun back and forth— brutal— making Soap’s throat bulge around it. Wouldn’t even try to stop him, would just thrust in harder and observe as Soap was forced even deeper around the gun in Ghost’s hand. The zipper on his trousers was torture now, feeling even colder against his cock as the fantasies played inside his head.
He could tell Ghost knew, could smell it on him as he leaned down to bite hard at the point Soap’s pulse beat the loudest. Sharp teeth drew blood and Ghost licked it up like some sort of bloody vampire, saliva and sweat mixing with the sharp taste of metal as the warm liquid spilled over his tongue. All the while, the captain watched, puffs of cigar smoke blowing lazily from his mouth and filling the room with their heady scent. The smell settled across the room like velvet, soft and thick and heavy.
The hard line of Price’s cock was visible now, too, and it looked fat as anything. Soap wanted it in his mouth— wanted to feel the captain suffocate him in that sweet tobacco air, breathe it hot in his face as Soap sat there on his knees, gorging himself on his cock.
Price’s voice was sharp amidst the hazy fog of Soap’s lust-addled mind.
“Wanna taste, son?”
He did. So badly, he did. But he knew better than to get up without permission, so he turned those wide pleading eyes of his onto Ghost. Ghost, who was staring right back at him, cold and calculated like the night’s shadow itself. It was a look Soap was intimately familiar with— it spoke of evenings where time became syrupy and strange, where all that was left was the two of them and their unchained inhibitions let free to prowl across the plains. Soap wondered how having Price here would change that. He couldn’t wait to find out.
Suddenly, Ghost seemed to have come to a decision.
“Go on lad, show the captain what a good boy you can be,” he said.
Soap got up to cross the distance before a thick hand clamped down on his shoulder, like iron, pushing him to his knees. Cold and sharp, Ghost’s voice rang out like a gunshot.
“Did I say you could stand?”
Soap whimpered. He fucking loved it when Ghost treated him like this. Like the scum stuck to the bottom of his shoe— like he owned Johnny. If Johnny was being honest with himself, he would gladly give himself up to Simon free of charge just for a chance to be underfoot those boots.
Of course, he couldn’t help but obey. He crawled to sit between Price’s legs, feeling the captain’s gaze on him like a brand. Behind him, he could hear as Ghost pulled down the zipper of his cargo pants. Could hear it as massive fingers curled around the shaft, working himself leisurely to the sight of Soap walking on his knees. Could hear the slick sounds his meaty palm made as they pumped up and down hot skin.
In front of him was no better. Price had opened his legs wide, arms curled back over the edges of the well-worn chair. One hand held his cigar between two fingers so different from Ghost’s own. His were thinner, more slender. They were calloused and rough all the same, but the callouses sat at different places— a testament to his rank as the captain. He looked as though he was in no rush at all, as though his cock wasn’t a large bulge against the legs of his uniform, as though his mind wasn’t racing at this rare glimpse of a complacent Soap. Between the lazy pace of Ghost behind him and the put-together image of Price in front of him, Soap truly felt he was fitting the role of a desperate slut begging to be fucked.
He looked up into the captain’s eyes as he pulled down Price’s zipper, biting the cool metal of the slider tight between his teeth. He felt proud to see Price’s eyes darken at the sight, knowing he did that, he made those pupils dilate. As the waist of his trousers slid free, opening to the pants underneath, Soap buried his nose in the fabric and took in as much of the scent there as he could.
“Fuck,” Price cursed. The sensation of Soap’s submission was intoxicating.
Soap suckled at the captain’s cock through the cotton, working a wet spot right at the tip. He licked his tongue along the slit and pressed in the best he could. Above him, Price’s breath hitched, and Soap could taste it as precum leaked into his mouth.
“That’s a good boy,” Ghost said. Suddenly, he seemed a lot closer than before. Close enough that Johnny could feel the air shift around him as he spoke. Close enough now for Price to see the piercing through the crown of his cock.
“Now when’d you get something like that?” Price’s voice came out low, rough, Soap still keeping up his ministrations below.
“Surprised?”
Price hummed.
“Curious, more like.”
“Tell you later. But you should see the way ol’ Johnny here gets when I shove it up his ass,” Ghost said.
Price chuckled, moving now to pull himself out of his boxers. He pulled back slightly, and Soap whined like a dog whose favorite toy was taken away.
“Lookin’ forward to it.”
Soap didn’t have to wait long until that cock was back again, wet tip now free to smack against his face. Precum drooled onto his cheek and across his lips as he moved to take the blushing head of it into his mouth. He sucked a few times, getting used to the feel of it on his tongue. Like his fingers, Price’s cock was thinner than Ghost’s, but what it lacked in girth it made up for in length. It tasted uniquely of the captain, like cigar smoke and precision and most of all, sweat.
Soap knew he was a bit fucked in the head— a little too obsessed with the way Ghost smelled after a long day out in the boiling sun. He knew he got his rocks off on the musk and the filth and the animal rawness of it all. He knew he liked to mouth at the crotch of Ghost’s used boxers, loved it when the man used them to gag him silent. That was all to say, he took Price’s cock deeper and moaned in satisfaction as he worked to make it wetter. He bobbed his head, tongue dexterous and explorative, cheeks hollowed. His eyes turned glassy as Price began to thrust in time with his mouth.
Ghost chuckled, looming over Soap.
“Well, ain’t this a pretty sight.”
Then calloused hands were pushing his head forward— forcing Soap’s mouth wider, Price’s cock deeper— turning the stretch of his lips obscene.
“Take it all in, that’s it, sweetheart.”
And Soap did. He took in every sensation he could grab, every feeling, until he was overwhelmed by the man that was John Price. The way the thatch of hair above his cock smelled as Soap buried his nose in it, the way the head of his cock pulsed precum against the back of Soap’s throat, like a fountain. The way he couldn’t get enough of that taste. The way Price’s balls slapped against his chin as he took in more and more and more. All the while, he could feel the firm grip of Ghost’s hands behind him, pushing him to take until Soap could feel the drool pool over his lips and eyes water at the stretch.
Cold air hit his lower half in a sudden burst, and he could hear it as Ghost sheathed his knife as quickly as he’d drawn it. He cut a line down the seam where one trouser leg met the other, giving him a full view of Soap’s puckered asshole behind them. He barked out a laugh as it came into view.
“No undies?” He asked in a mocking tone.
“Were you hoping Daddy Price and I would find you like this? Hoping we would ruin you?”
Soap’s teeth grazed the veins on Price’s cock as the slap of Ghost’s hand hit sharp over his hole. Price threw his head back, sucking in a sharp breath.
“What a whore,” he groaned.
Soap hiccuped, snot making a mess of his face as Price thrusted his hips hard and fast. It was one thing to hear Simon call him that, to have Simon treat him like this, but hearing it from Captain Price… God, it was like an all new fire roared through him.
Lost in it as he was, he barely heard it as Ghost popped open the cap to the lube. He certainly felt it though, as two thick, wet fingers pressed beyond the rim of his hole.
He gasped around Price’s cock, nearly choking on it as it bobbed in his throat at the sudden movement.
The chill of the lube was like a balm to his overheating body. Every part of him felt like it was burning up, a flame so hot it was burning orange into blue. He was lightning, electric. The two men around him were the only things keeping him grounded. His insides felt loose and his very cells felt like they could float away. He was a kite soaring in the air, high on the wind that whipped him.
Those fingers worked inside of him, stretching and carving lines in the walls of his hole. They pressed up against something soft and spongy and Soap had to press his legs together to stop himself from cumming before he was told.
Ghost’s voice was devious as he spoke.
“Found it.” On any other night, he would have hit that spot again and again, until Soap was cumming without a choice. Until Ghost was taking him over his knee and punishing him for disobeying.
Tonight wasn’t any other night though. After fondling Soap’s prostate one more time, he withdrew his fingers and wiped them off on Soap’s ass. He gave the flesh a good, hard squeeze and then stood up to beckon the captain over.
“Aren’t you gonna fuck him?” Price asked. He hadn’t taken his cock out of Soap’s mouth yet.
“Nah, thought I’d let our good Captain do the honors. Been a while since I gave him a good face fucking anyway.”
Price didn’t wait to start circling around to Soap’s exposed ass. He smiled and chuckled fondly as he thought about the fucked-out look on Soap’s face as he had pulled away.
“Don’t mind if I do, then.”
As Ghost began filling the mouth Price had left, the captain gave into his urge and groped at the meat of Soap’s cheeks. He let his cock smack against them, trailing precum, enjoying the way they jiggled with every hit. He spread Soap’s cheeks apart and then let them go again just to hear the lewd sound they made. Always in that damn uniform, who knew his boy was hiding something like this under those breeches?
He lined his cock up with that fluttering hole, pushing until just the head was past the rim. The force of Ghost’s cock plundering Soap’s mouth pushed Soap’s ass to take in more and more of Price’s shaft as he went.
For his part, Ghost was loving the way having a cock in each hole made Johnny even more compliant than unusual. Loving the way he looked up at Simon with those big, watery eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks. The way his eyelids fluttered as his pupils rolled back in his head with every well-timed thrust. Times like these made him wish he kept a camera on him.
Soap rolled his tongue over the Prince Albert on the crown of his cock and sucked hard, like he was trying to milk Ghost dry. He made sucking cock look like eating a 5 course dinner, slurping and moaning and relishing the flavor. He was barely even aware of the sounds he was making anymore, so drunk on the feeling of being stuffed completely full all at once. There was no part of him that didn’t feel like it had been plundered, that didn’t feel taken by Price and Ghost. Even the corners of his mind felt like they belonged to them.
His entire body shuddered as Price finally started fucking into him in earnest.
“Such a good boy for us,” Ghost cooed, watching as another shake wracked Soap’s body. He could tell how hard it was for Johnny to hold himself off, to keep his cock from creaming right then and there. He wondered if Johnny would make it to the end.
He almost hoped he didn’t.
On the other side, Price almost couldn’t believe what a perfect fuckhole Soap’s ass was— sucking him in so tight and refusing to let go. He couldn’t decide which one was better: Soap’s ass or his mouth. They were both so wonderful, he was glad he didn’t have to choose.
With the pace he and Ghost were keeping, Price knew it wouldn’t be long until he came. It was a testament to how long they had worked together that he could tell, even through the fabric of the balaclava, that Ghost was nearing the same.
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
The sounds of sex echoed off the walls, getting faster and faster.
One thrust then another and then another, Soap’s body practically being thrown between the two of them. As soon as one man pistoned in, the other would pull out, working back and forth like Soap was taking a ride on the world’s most debaucherous seesaw. The crotch of his pants had never been opened, and he was rutting desperately against the fabric, feeling his dick bounce with torturous force up and down and again. The pressure was building and building, it hurt so good, and if there wasn’t a cock in his mouth he would be down on his knees begging for Ghost to pleasepleaseplease let him cum.
Lucky for him, Ghost happened to be in a giving mood. His voice turned from a groan into a growl as he released down Johnny’s throat, long spurts of hot, milky liquid filling his belly until he felt bloated. Balls kept slapping against his chin, Ghost continuing his brutal pace even as he worked through the aftershocks of his orgasm.
Price did the same, long cock hitting Soap’s prostate on every thrust, cum gushing through his ass and leaking down his legs.
It was heaven. It was hell. It was bliss.
Ghost’s voice was breathless— rough— as he spoke.
“Cum for us, sweetheart.”
Like a missle set free from its launcher, Soap’s cock soaked through the front of his cargo pants. His eyes rolled back so far he felt they would roll out of his head, and outside of himself he could hear the keening cry that left his throat.
He practically fell to the floor as soon as the others pulled out, cum oozing from both sides of his body. As he laid there, spent, he felt a rough hand come to grip his oversensitive cock through the wet patch he had made.
His entire body jolted as if electrocuted, twitching and squirming as the hand didn’t let up.
Above him, Ghost grinned a feral thing.
“You didn’t think we were done with you yet, did you baby?”
And thank god Soap was fucked up enough to love it.