Chapter Text
•Soap•
They remained in the embrace for a few minutes, breaths regulating with one another, finding a rhythm together.
Finally Soap pulled back a bit, finger guiding Simon's chin to look at him.
"Hey, we're all done here. Come with me to the anteroom, yeah?" He kept his tone low and smooth, soothing.
Simon nodded and he led him into the adjoining space and the small couch that was pushed against one of the walls. It was meant to be used as a space for the interrogators to switch out for breaks as needed or to pass information on in either direction out of ear shot of the subject. There were a few basic supplies inside the room and a care kit he'd been tasked with packing prior to coming down here.
Once Simon was seated he grabbed the care kit, a small duffel that had some first aid supplies, water, snacks, a thin wool blanket, and a spare set of clothes. The clothes weren't on the technical list, but he figured they might be a good idea in case of blood or destruction. Soap was pretty thankful for the foresight now.
He pulled the blanket out, snapping it open and wrapping it around Simon. He opened a bottle of water and handed it to him, setting a second one on the table in easy reach. He tore open a meal bar with his teeth and handed that to him as well.
"Here, eat this. I know it's not the best, but you've got to get something in you for the time being. Do you need some space right now?" He hovered by the edge of the sofa, not wanting to get too close if that wasn't what Simon needed.
"Please don't leave me?" The voice was deceptively small and it twisted a knife in Soap's heart with the upturn of the question at the end.
"No, never, love." He sank on the couch next to him and pulled him close, wrapping one arm around his shoulders, "I'm sorry for doing this all backward. Usually like to have the talk about this stuff well beforehand." He chuckled a little as his hand stroked up and down Simon's arm.
Simon simply hummed in response and melted into his side, tugging the blanket closer. They sat this way for a few minutes, Soap periodically kissing Simon's unruly hair or squeezing him tighter to his side in a half hug. He let Simon unwind in a comfortable silence, feeling him come down slowly as he ate and drank a little.
He was letting his eyes drift closed when Simon broke the silence.
"Guess I should have probably brought some spare clothes." His voice sounded more normal now, just a little less like Simon. It made his heart clench in his chest.
"I have a spare set, might not fit the best, but I grabbed what would fit closest." Soap started to pull his arm away to grab the bag but he was stopped with Simon's hand on his chest.
•Ghost•
He held his hand against Johnny's chest, distracted for a second in the feel of the contact, wanting to sink back into it but knowing better.
"I can just get the stuff I wore in. Well, except the shirt I guess." He tried a laugh but it came out flat and uncomfortable.
He had the blanket over his lap now and he grabbed it to wrap around his hips as he started to stand. Johnny knocked his hand out of the way and pushed him gently back against the sofa.
"Sit. Let me take care of you." Johnny stood without looking at him and he settled back against the cushions.
He watched Johnny cross to the bag, crouching down and removing a bundle of items and a first aid kit.
"Here. Not far to get to the barracks and it's late, no one will see ya. Jumper should fit, it's big on me. Joggers might be a bit short, sorry about that. Here's these," He unrolled a pair of thick wool socks, scrunching one up and holding it out where he knelt by Simon's legs. "Floor has to be freezing."
Simon was stunned, lifting first one foot, then the other as Johnny tugged the socks into place gently.
"Want to get these on first or want me to patch up your chest first?" He was holding the joggers out, patiently waiting as Simon decided.
He shook his head slightly, "Ah, I can handle it, Johnny. Don't have to trouble yourself with it."
"If you need me to leave it be, I will, but don't think you're doing me a favor by not letting me help." He could see the touch of hurt drop onto his face at the thought of being shut out.
Shit, what if taking care of his partner like this was part of Johnny's aftercare? Top drop was a thing the same as sub drop. He had no idea how to care for the man in front of him properly, but he could tell this meant a lot to him. It wasn't simply a courtesy or obligation to be dealt with.
"In that case can we get my chest done first? Rather clean up a bit before I make a mess of your clothes." He felt his face flush and he looked away, but not before he saw the small smile on Johnny's face.
"Absolutely. Here's this. It's clean." He handed Simon a plain black balaclava. Not one of his usual pieces, the fabric just slightly different.
He looked up in question as he took it but didn't pull it on right away.
"I keep a pack in my room and in a few of my field and training bags. Just in case." He shrugged, nonchalant, as if it was as common as having any other piece of equipment.
Johnny started to get to work gently cleaning the twin cuts on his chest. He was careful and precise in his movements, taking great caution not to tug or pull on anything that might hurt, apologizing softly when he thought he might have brushed something painful.
"Shouldn't be bad enough for stitches unless you're really worried about scars. I tried to keep them light enough. Blade was clean, but still want to keep an eye on them and go to medical if they start to look suspicious." Johnny hadn't looked at him during the speech, hands still carefully applying bandages across the relatively small cuts, brow creased with focus.
He placed a hand on top of Johnny's now, stilling him and sinking his palm to Simon's chest. Might as well get the hard part over with.
"Can we talk.. about what the hell just happened?" He waited as Johnny's eyes were locked on their hands, his mouth dropped open slightly in surprise.
"I, ah.. I figured you were just waiting to stick a knife in my throat on our way out, honestly. Best case scenario, anyway." He gave a weak and humorless laugh, pulling his hand away now and rubbing the back of his neck, refusing to look back at Simon.
"And worst case scenario?" He couldn't help the amused lilt in his voice. The same one he used when he told his stupid jokes over the radio that made the man groan and sometimes laugh.
Johnny's face dropped a little more, his voice growing more quiet, "You have me removed from the team. Worse yet, you stop speaking to me and I lose th-"
He snapped his mouth shut quickly, the words had gotten away from him, spilling out in haste. Johnny turned his now bright red face away and sniffed. His eyes were just barely red rimmed.
"Lose what, Johnny?" The words breathless on his lips, hopeful, scared.
The man blew out a shaky breath, another flat laugh, "Fuck me.." He threw his hands up in an exaggerated shrug of defeat, "This, Simon! Whatever the hell this is. I want you. I've wanted you for fucking months and I've tried so hard not to have feelings for you, but I do. I'm so fucking sorry. I never should have done this."
He looked near tears now, still refusing to look at Simon, his knee bouncing. It was a nervous habit he had when he was stressed beyond his limits. Simon had picked up on it quickly after they started working together, noticing it during and after some missions that were particularly difficult.
He reached a hand out, sliding it onto Johnny's knee in an attempt to still the motion, to soothe.
"I'm glad you did. I never would have been able to make a move on my own." He admitted, a little sheepishly.
Johnny's face turned toward his now, eyes hopeful, but guarded, "Because I'm your Sergeant?"
He hummed as he thought it over briefly, "Not entirely. That is part of it, though. I would have never put you in a position where you might be swayed by a power imbalance. Makes me sick to think of you agreeing to something you didn't want based on rank." He shook his head to clear that path of thought from his mind before continuing, "Honestly, though? I'm nervous as hell around you unless we're on the field. Always worried about saying the right thing or making the right impression.. I've had feelings for you for a long while, too."
He peeked up at Johnny from where he was leaned forward on the edge of the couch. He rubbed Johnny's knee now with his thumb, tracing simple patterns as the bouncing slowed and then stopped.
Johnny froze for a moment before he pushed Simon back on the couch and straddled his lap, bringing his hands to his face and.. he stopped with their lips a few inches apart.
Simon's face tightened with concern, trying to read Johnny's expression.
•Soap•
He felt the smile break slowly across his face just inches from Simon's.
"Feels odd we haven't actually kissed yet.." He trailed off, dropping his eyes to Simon's lips and back up, how voice was a whisper in the space between them.
Simon nodded under him, slow as his eyes mirrored the path Johnny's had made seconds ago. The tension was heavy in the room, an all but tangible force flooding the space between them.
He saw Simon start to lean up into it, head tilting slightly, eye lids dropping, nearly there..
"Wait." Johnny slid a finger over Simon's lips, tilting his own head in preparation and pausing for a long moment as their eyes searched one another's, "Tell me what your information was first."
Simon blinked a few times.
"Bleedin' Jesus, Soap!" He rolled his eyes and leaned back hard on the couch with a huffing laugh.
"Gotta tell me, LT. Think I earned it." He was grinning hugely now, hands planted on Simon's chest as he remained straddling his hips.
Simon sighed, eyes soft as he reached a hand to brush Johnny's jaw with his thumb. He rattled off a series of numbers with no hesitation.
He immediately recognized the first set. The second set sounded familiar, but why? Simon was just watching him with an amused smirk as he processed.
"You're lying." He scrambled off of Simon's lap and darted to the table, flipping the paper over where he had written it earlier.
Sure enough. Both numbers were there written under the words Coordinates to a warehouse front. Transporting weapons over international border. Or some shit.
"Cheeky bastard." He smirked at Simon now before turning a more serious gaze to the paper, "First set's my service ID, how the hell did you know that off the top of your head?" He stared at the man on the couch.
"Spent enough time staring at your tags when you fidget with them. Eventually stuck." He shrugged.
It was probably the most Ghost specific romantic gesture he could imagine and he felt.. something. A flicker in his chest.
"What's the second set?" He was looking at the paper again, puzzled at the familiarity that was just barely escaping him.
"The date of our first mission together." Another shrug.
He was wrong, then. This was the most Ghost specific romantic gesture.
Johnny carefully folded the paper and set it down next to the keys, he planned on keeping that. He crossed back to the couch and returned to Simon's lap and bringing their lips together at last.
They held each other then, arms tangling, mouths exploring with a gentle insistence, soft breaths shared in the quiet space while time seemed to stand still around them.
Finally he pulled back, "I have to ask. Did you know this was going to happen?"
Simon sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, "No. I hoped like hell it wouldn't initially. I fought Price tooth and nail about this because I knew it would be a struggle."
"He doesn't know, then?" Johnny asked, immediately realizing what he'd said and rolling his eyes as Simon was already responding.
"Can't say the topic of his Lieutenant being a submissive slag in the bedroom had come up over post work drinks yet, no." His eyes were lit with his usual dry humor, but seeing his mouth quirked into a smile made it more brilliant.
"Aye, but you're my submissive slag." He kissed Simon's lips again quickly before catching what he'd said, "Didn't mean to imply that.. I mean, I'm not saying that I'm you-"
Simon interrupted his stumbling words, "Johnny. Relax." He smoothed a hand over Johnny's back now, "I'd love nothing more than to serve you if you'll have me. Couldn't stop thinking about it in there.. How much I didn't want it to end because I was afraid that it would all disappear when we stepped out of that door."
Johnny's face was lit up, bright and excited. He couldn't tame it if he wanted to, riding the high of the moment, "I'd be honored to have you be mine, Simon. It's funny, I was worried about the same damn thing. Figured you would snap back to being Ghost and I'd lose Simon."
He nuzzled into Johnny's neck, kissing softly, "You'll always have Simon."
"Come on. We should start to head back. It's late and I want to make sure you're taken care of." He stood up now, shuffling through the duffle bag again.
•Ghost•
He stood up, blanket tucked loosely around his hips, hanging low. He stretched gently, feeling the satisfying ache of a good session still buzzing pleasantly through him.
Johnny returned with a bottle in hand, "Turn around for me and drop the blanket."
He half snorted, "What?"
"I lit you up pretty good in there, Simon. Let me put something on to help." He squeezed some of the substance from the bottle into his hand and waited.
Simon eyed it skeptically.
"It's just lotion, ya git. Nothing sinister. Vitamin E, it helps. I'll be easy." He said with a touch of light hearted impatience.
He finally turned, dropping the blanket into a puddle at his feet, somehow feeling more exposed now than he had in the room. He felt the flush of heat on his neck and chest as Johnny stepped forward and gently swiped a hand over his battered skin. He hissed at the jolt from the cool lotion.
"Sorry, love. Tried to warm it up a bit. Are you feeling okay?" Johnny asked as he continued to ease the lotion onto him in easy caresses.
"Ah, yeah.. I am. Never had this treatment before, honestly.. Thank you." He couldn't explain how much this meant to him, this simple and almost reverent touch.
Johnny was quiet for a second but he could hear him trying to control his breaths for a moment before he spoke, "Nothing to thank me for. This should always be part of it. Anyone who doesn't take care of you after, doesn't deserve you during. Repeat that back to me."
Simon hesitated for a moment, a little confused at first.
"Simon. Repeat it back to me." His voice had just the barest brush of the tone he'd used in the other room and it sparked something in Simon's brain in a pleasant way.
"Anyone who doesn't care for me after, doesn't deserve me during." He struggled over the words, they felt awkward on his tongue, out of place for someone like him.
"Good boy." Johnny stood behind him, planting a gentle kiss on his shoulder, "I'm honored that you let go with me. That you trusted me. I'll never betray that trust, Simon. Understood?"
He nodded, unable to form any more words at this point without unraveling the emotions trapped in his throat.
Johnny set the bottle down and grabbed the pair of joggers he'd brought, pulling Simon's hand to his shoulder to balance as he leaned over to help him into them, one leg at a time, easing the waistband wide over the bruises.
The joggers were a little short, but fit well enough everywhere else. To be honest, they felt better than his uniform pants would have against his skin right now. He was infinitely thankful that Johnny had the foresight to bring a change of clothes. The jumper fit better at least.
They gathered everything up, straightening the room as they were required to for the cleaning crews to make their sweep of the place. Johnny piled bags on his shoulders, only letting Simon carry the one bag he'd brought in that was now stuffed with his discarded clothes and kit.
Johnny walked him to his room, asking more than once along the way if he needed anything else before turning in. Each time he declined and thanked him for asking, bemused at the level of attention Johnny was giving him.
They made it to his door, he unlocked it and stepped in, leaving it open behind him for Johnny as he set his stuff down in the corner.
"Never thought I'd see your room. I'm jealous. Mines not nearly as big and I don't have my own shower. Lucky bastard." Johnny winked at him.
"Care to test it out in the morning?" He asked, the question coming out a little more shy than he anticipated.
Johnny smiled at him and sauntered closer, "That what you want? I'll stay if you do, but I can give you space if you need it. Just because we are exploring this doesn't mean I own you."
"I want it. I want you to stay, please. At least for tonight." He wasn't willing to let the evening slip away that easily if he could help it, wanting to drink in more of this warm feeling.
Besides, it was only a couple hours before the sun would be up anyway. They had been in the interrogation room far longer than they should have been.
They shed their gear and clothes and Simon crawled under the sheets first, lying on his side and holding the blankets up for Johnny to join him. When he did, Simon tugged him into the curve of his body, wrapping around his back and circling his arms around the man.
"Hmm.. Didn't quite expect this." He heard the smile in Johnny's voice and squeezed him tighter in the darkness of the room.
"Big scary Dom not a fan of being the little spoon?" He chuckled and got a half hearted slap at his arm for it.
"Hush! I'm not scary.. And I do like it. Just new." Johnny snuggled impossibly closer into him and sighed.
Simon kissed the side of his head where the hair was shortest, "Think we're both learning new things tonight."
Johnny snorted.
•Soap•
He'd slept incredibly well, even squished onto the bed that was certainly not meant for two grown men of their sizes. They'd woken late, but they didn't have any duties to report for until later in the afternoon so they took their time cleaning up.
Simon had tried to get something started in the shower but he reminded him that Price was expecting him first thing. It would have to wait until after their work was done, much to the dismay of them both.
"Don't remind me. Going to have to come up with an excuse as to why I didn't write up the report last night." He winked at Johnny.
"What are you going to say in your report?" He smiled and snaked his arms around Simon's waist, stealing just a few more moments before he had to slip out and go back to his room to get ready for the day.
Simon rolled his eyes, "That's for you to find out when you have your meeting with him this afternoon."
■■■
The afternoon arrived, Soap had spent the better part of his late morning until now working with Gaz on some sighting work with a handful of people that were new to the base. He was worn out, the lack of sleep and the adrenaline burn from the night before leaving him dragging through the day.
His heart was pounding now, though, as he stood outside of Price's office. He took a deep breath and knocked.
"Come in!"
He entered, flashing a smile at Price across the desk and taking a seat, flopping into it as he usually did.
"Good afternoon, Cap! What's on the agenda?" He greeted him with his usual bright enthusiasm.
Price just raised an eyebrow at him and flipped open the file on his desk, pulling a thin packet out and thumbing through it.
"I have Ghost's report from last night here and just wanted to go over it with you." Price's eyes were scanning the page.
He felt his heart rate jump, a faint pink flush was surely visible on his face now. When the hell did he write it? Must have done it while he was out with Gaz. More importantly, what did he write?
"And, Sir?" He swallowed thickly.
"And it looks like you did well in most areas, Sergeant. He noted some room for improvements. Recommended another session or two, but did request that they be done with someone else." The man looked up at him now, his expression unreadable, "Any ideas why that may be?"
He shook his head, "No, Sir. Unless he just wants me to work with someone I might be able to make more progress with."
Price leaned back in his chair now, the well worn leather creaking softly as he shifted, "I find that to be an interesting take, Soap. Considering he told me that you managed to get his information from him. Coordinates, I believe? I'm impressed. Never knew the bastard could be broken and still be able to walk the following day."
He felt Price's eyes boring holes into him. He was sweating now, mouth suddenly dry.
"Ah.. I think he was going easy on me because I was nervous. I can work with someone else for another session to avoid that. I'd like to improve, Sir." His knee was starting to bounce where he sat and he tried like hell to stop it.
"We will get you set up with someone else. Maybe next week we can line up time for you and Gaz if we're slow enough. Interesting that Ghost would go easy on you, don't you think?" Price didn't look at him as he asked, just shuffled through more paperwork in the file.
"I think maybe he just didn't want to train me, Captain." He shrugged and tried to laugh it off, playing into the fact that Ghost had once been annoyed by Soap's antics and made it clear that he'd rather not have to wrangle him.
The man reached across the desk now, holding a disc in a paper sleeve out to him.
He took it, confused. Price leveled a gaze at him and spoke, voice low, "Oh, I don't think he was the one doing the training.. Sir."
His mouth dropped open and he stared at the disc in his hands with a horrorstruck expression. The immediate flashback to when he was in this same office to discuss how the interrogation would work suddenly seared into his mind.
The camera. The fucking camera.
They hadn't remembered to turn it off at the start and by the time they'd finished, the night was so derailed that he hadn't even thought about it on their way out.
He stared at his Captain.
He was being discharged. Had Simon already been given his paperwork that would put him out of service? He hadn't seen him after he had his meeting with Price. Fuck!
"Captain Price, I.. I don- I'm-" He was struggling hard to find the words, he felt his breath coming in short, shallow spurts, his chest tight. He was suddenly dizzy.
"Settle down, Sergeant. No panic attacks in my office." Price leaned back in his chair again, there was a smirk on his face.
That couldn't be right.
His eyes were tight as he tried to calm his breathing down, "Captain?"
Price just chuckled, "I'm not throwing you out, Soap. Relax your death grip on that chair. You break it and I'm taking it out of your check."
He realized now that he had his fingers dug hard into the wooden arms under his hands. Soap made the conscious effort to move his hands to his lap.
"Why are you giving this to me?" He picked the disc up from the floor where he'd dropped it like it burned him when he realized what it was.
Price laughed fully now, "Because I damn sure wasn't going to give it to Ghost. Don't fancy getting a knife between the ribs this early on a work day."
Soap took a shuddering breath, blowing it out slowly, "How much did you see, Sir?"
The man leaned forward now, planting his elbows on the desk as he met Soap's red rimmed eyes, "Watched the first few minutes before I skipped the recording around a bit, figured I didn't need every detail since I'd be getting a report from Ghost, anyway." He reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a cigar, taking a moment to light it as Soap held his breath in suspense, "Paused when I saw you in the chair instead. Skipped back a bit to see what in the hell I missed and when I hit play again, I heard my Lieutenant calling his Sergeant 'Sir'." Price had an intensely amused expression on his face now.
"Fucking hell, Price.. Tell me you turned it off after that because if you skipped forward I'm going to throw myself off a roof." Soap gave a tight laugh, trying desperately to relax.
The man shook his head as he blew out a puff of smoke on a chuckle, "Didn't see anybody get their cock out if that's what you're worried about."
Soap choked on his own tongue then, a strangled sound as he stared at his Captain with wide eyes.
Price continued, unphased, "Now, I don't rightly care what you two do in your down time. Keep it off the field and keep it out of work from now on. You won't hear another word from me on it if you don't want to."
He leaned forward again, sliding the file on his desk back into the drawer.
"Dismissed." He flipped a quick wave at Soap, cigar suspended between his fingers.
Soap stood and crossed the floor to leave, the disc still burning hot in his hands as he hesitated just before closing the door, "What do you mean about not hearing another word from you if I don't want to?"
Price dragged his eyes up slowly to meet Soap's now, smoke hazing the space between, "Just that. If you don't bring it up, I won't bring it up."
He contemplated for a second, gave a short nod and started to turn again, halted by another sentence that made him stop mid stride and look back.
"Feel free to bring it up if you want to, though, Sergeant."
He stared, mouth slightly open as if to speak but he'd suddenly lost all grasp of language.
"Have a good day, Soap. Think you've got some business to attend to."
With that, he closed the door behind him as the blush deepened on his face.