Chapter Text
He didn't understand. Had he misread everything?
The banter that bordered on inappropriate and very much not 'tactical'.
The acceptance that if they were going in a transport they would be sitting side by side. Knees, thighs and shoulders touching, regardless if there was room for less of it.
The saved favourite treats and sides in the mess hall.
The perfectly made coffee despite Ghost's distaste for the beverage.
The tolerance of his endless chatter when Soap was wound up tight and just needed someone to let him ramble.
The light squeeze to his knee when Soap was buzzing with energy and creating a racket from tapping his foot on the floor.
The soft looks whenever Soap gave him a gentle touch in return.
Had all of that just been Ghost being a good Lieutenant? Had he read into it what he wanted to see, not what it actually was.
Soap sighed heavily as he replayed in his mind Ghost tilting his head in confusion as Soap gushed out his confession of how much he would like to take this to the next stage with him.
"Huh? Take what, to what stage, now?"
Ghost's words had bitten deep. The weeks of building himself to this moment, clearly an utter waste of time. Ghost didn't have a clue what he was referring to and was now looking at Soap with genuine concern as he pulled further in on himself and desperately tried to fight off the tears that started to blur his vision.
"Ah, no, sorry. Never mind. It's nothing," Soap stumbled out as he brushed past a bewildered and confused Ghost.
He was so focused on the burning shame crashing in on him as he basically ran out of the rec room towards his room, he didn't hear Ghost calling out to him.
By the time he reached his room, his breath was sawing in and out of his chest and the burn of tears was making him blink almost continuously to stop them falling.
He locked the door behind him and slumped down it to huddle on the floor, desperately trying to hold it all in and not acknowledge the pain of rejection.
Actually, no. Outright rejection would have been better than this oblivious confusion on what on earth Soap could be referring to. The clear indication that all that Soap felt for the man didn’t even register for Ghost. That realisation that the person you cared for most in your life, saw you as nothing more than the next person. Nothing special, nothing that important, care born only out of duty and obligation, not love.
Soap dropped his head into his hands cradled on his bent up knees and bit into his palms to stop himself from screaming. He knew if he truly let this pain out, it would be impossible to bottle it away and act normally again.
So he pushed it all down deep as he could force it and strapped it down as tight as he could. He lifted his head and just stared blankly at his opposite wall, refusing to think, just existing while he came to terms with closing off those thoughts, those feelings, his love.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there, just staring at nothing, feeling nothing, but when he finally came back to himself he was sitting in the pitch black of his room at night. He tentatively tested the hold he had on those feelings and it all held, with just a small flare of pain deep in his chest. With that confirmed, he stumbled up to his feet on partial numb legs and lay himself down on his bed. If he curled up into a ball, hugging himself to sleep, no one needed to know.
He would be the one to wear a mask tomorrow and pretend nothing had happened and that everything was ok. He would be the Soap everyone expected and no one needed to know that he was hollow inside, unwanted and unloved.
Just a good friend, a good teammate, a good soldier. Never anything more.