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Summary
“You needed that, didn’t you?”
Soap sighs while he nods, feeling an itch that goes away when he pulls back for a moment to chuck his sweaty shirt off and toss it somewhere. He rests his hands on Ghost’s chest again, looking at him from under his lashes. “Want some more.”
Ghost makes eye contact with him then, sharp and direct, with a tightening of his jaw under the mask, and it feels like Soap never went without it, the intensity of Ghost tunneling his focus right on him like he can see right under his skin.
It feels so fucking good. -
Bookmark Notes:
This is practically tame in comparison to other possessive fics I've read, but still very hot
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