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Summary
Underneath the woodsy smoke and aromas coming off their mingling breath, the scent of Soap's blood smells absolutely divine. They bump into a side table in the entryway when Ghost pins Soap to the wall, torturing himself by tracing a long line up the man's pulsing jugular. He scrapes his teeth gently at the rough underside of Soap's jaw, reveling in the rumbling moan and twitch of hips he gets in return.
"Gonna bite, big thing?" Soap asks, knotting his fingers into the back of Ghost's jacket hood to pull him closer. Ghost slots his own through the belt loops of Soap’s pants.
"Only if you ask nicely."
or;
The worst part of being a vampire is the lack of a reflection.
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Summary
"Oh, so now yer just offerin' to gimme a wank?" Soap's voice is incredulous. Really, he's got every right to be in disbelief; that's exactly what Ghost is offering.
"If you want," Ghost says nonchalantly, as if rather than a handjob from a superior officer, he's just offered Soap the rest of his bag of crisps.
Or;
Ghost and Soap kill some time on a long drive.
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Summary
Ghost pretends to consider the offer, rolling the shoulder that Soap's chin is starting to leave a divot in and pointedly ignoring the fact that the fingertips at his pants have now dipped in between where his shirt's tucked into his jeans. Really, he's tired and ready to sleep for a week after boiling the grime off his skin with a shower, but, the idea of fucking out all that pent up aggression and making Soap just take it is appealing. Incredibly so. Soap shifts his face to press little kisses and the occasional nuzzle into his nape, teasing the tip of his tongue between his lips as he does.
Well... they do have the room for a couple days until their flight back home. Might as well break in the beds and enjoy the privacy.
or;
Some experiments with Soap's flexibility and Ghost's patience.
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Summary
"Soap," he hears called across the canteen during dinner, in that gruff Manchester accent that can only be one person. "A word, privately."
or;
Ghost is injured during a mission that's gone to shit. Soap slips up and makes things a hell of a lot more complicated.
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Summary
"Easy, big guy," Johnny says as he rears his head back from the spray, "'s just me. You look like you're enjoyin' yourself there."
Simon wipes his eyes clear, basking in the twin circles being rubbed into his flanks. "An' if I am?"
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or; Simon can't get enough of every gentle touch Johnny is willing to give.

