Work Text:
Marcel❤️
Come on, baby. It was a misunderstanding. I didn't look at him, I just wanted to know if I left my JBL in the bathroom. Call me back.
Sent: 5:46 pm
Marcel❤️
Baby, I drove back to ur flat to talk it out. I kept ringing the doorbell, where r u? Have you gone out? Come back, Kyle isn't telling the full truth, I didn't even look at him! I only have eyes for u, u know that!
Sent: 6:06 pm
Marcel❤️
John, you can't seriously just believe this ass. He never liked me. I wanna talk it out, please pick up the phone, beauty. Let me take you out to your favorite Chinese place and I will explain everything.
Sent: 6:09 pm
Missed call from Marcel❤️, 6:12 pm
Missed call from Marcel❤️, 6:13 pm
Missed call from Marcel❤️, 6:13 pm
Marcel❤️
Come on, be reasonable, you didn't even hear me out! I didn't try to fuck this asshole, who would want him anyways? He took it the wrong way! I love only you! Please call me back!
Sent: 6:15 pm
John “Soap” Mactavish wasn't having the best night. Hell, he wasn't even living the third best discount version of this night. He was sitting alone in a bar instead of dining at the expensive Greek place with the great tomato soup and the beautiful ambiente. And instead of being there with his best friend, his new boyfriend and his own fiance, it was just him and some clearly too drunk patrons in some ratty dive bar. It had been supposed to be a celebration of their engagement. An engagement that had only lasted a month.
He had had a few drinks already in the half hour he had sat here. Scotch, neat. Four of them. He had chugged back the first two like a mad man, clearly only following his goal to get himself black out drunk tonight. It might just help to numb the pain of his fucking fiance spying on his fucking best friend in their fucking shower of all places! Prepositioning him no less.
Of course Gaz had come running down the hallway, only in the borrowed bath towel Soap had laid out for him, screaming at Marcel before he had come to a slippery halt on Soap's cheap linoleum floor. Dripping wetness on the space before his couch, an almost constipated look on his face as he spit out a string of rushed words. “Marcel came in while I was in the shower. Asked me if I was looking forward to some fun tonight.” His dark brown eyes filled with genuine guilt. “I don't know what kinds of signs I send, I am so, so sorry.” Gazs face told him everything he needed to know in order to understand that this hadn’t just been an innocent question.
Soap had not really known how to react aside from pushing past his friend with the first scream of anger already on his lips.
Throwing out Marcel had been a blur, he wasn't even sure what he had said in detail but did it really matter in the end? The important part was that he had broken up with the fucking asshole on his doorstep, letting all the other people living in the house know what a slimy bastard the man was. That much for trying to have a talk… that ship had fucking sailed and sunk.
Gaz had looked at him in pity, still dripping on his living room floor, trying to offer support. But he had clearly been distressed, so he had driven him to his fucking picture perfect boyfriend and had taken a cab to the closest bar with the intent of getting himself a nice and severe case of alcohol poisoning. His best friend had tried to get him to stay, to be reasonable, but if he was honest, he couldn't bear to look at the man right now. None of this was Gazs fault, but he only felt rage at the knowledge that yet another guy had wanted the fucking gorgeous man more than him, despite the man being his own, damn fiance!
He had sent him his live location, just so someone would find him if his drunk self tried to sleep in a ditch or something, but other than that, he didn't want to be around him right now.
So that's how he got here, seething and stewing in his anger at the bar, ordering one drink after another, the blonde bartender with the mustache and the sparkling blue eyes throwing him worried looks sometimes. Soap had refused to talk about it when the man had first asked, making it clear that he wasn't interested in support.
He got his phone out for what felt like the hundreth time since he sat down. Four missed calls and two new messages. Peachy.
Marcel❤️
Why do you believe him so readily?! He is just jealous of what we have, why can't you see this? You are being unfair. CALL ME NOW!
Sent: 6:31 pm
Marcel❤️
U r being a massive bitch, not even listening to me just because Kyle is spewing some massive bullshit! I bet he just lied about this shit because the slut only pulls old guys. It's like u don't even love me! R u with him rn?! Answer me!
Sent: 6:39 pm
This was too fucking much. He could understand being lied to, that he tried to smooth talk his way out of this situation. But implying it to be an elaborate ploy from Gaz to kill their relationship? Hell no.
But the worst part was that a tiny, hurt, vulnerable part wanted to believe it and didn't want to accept his fiance hitting on flawless, perfect, beautiful Gaz. Wanted Gaz to have lied or at least misunderstood the innocent enough question. He knew it was bullshit. But he really loved- no, had loved Marcel. No matter how hard their relationship had been on him sometimes. He already missed him…
Some dude bumped into him, mumbling a short excuse. Soap paid him no mind, who the fuck gave a shit about anything right now? He motioned for another drink, scrawled up in the chat to remind himself why exactly he wouldn't come running back.
Marcel❤️
U owe me at least a talk, John. Tell me where u r and I pick u up.
Sent: 6:15 pm
Soap saw red. This shithead! He started typing furiously, not caring about spelling or grammar. His drunk brain seemingly thought of any kind of filter and decency as obsolete, spilling out whatever he felt like.
You fucking piece of shit! Pinning your stupid fucking behavior on Gaz, as isf he was the bad guy in this! Everyone always wants him insteaf of me, everyone thinjs he is so hot and he never fudked any of them you are not the first to pull this shit, I never wanna se you again, I will trow yozr fucking shit out of the windoq, you are such a trashbah! You are…
Just when he had gotten really into it, one large, pale hand closed around his phone, hitting the off button in the process. “You owe nothing to a dude who writes abbreviated while trying to get you back.” The voice was deep, warm and pleasant. Maybe a little raspy. Soap looked up dumbfounded and was met with light, furrowed brows, a black surgical mask and chestnut eyes. “Seems like a shitshow… you really shouldn't text him back. Sounds like a bloody wanker.” The words were spoken in a level tone, almost seeming bored if it wasn't for the warm hand that still held onto the phone.
Soap collected himself and ripped it out of the guy's grasp. “Ye are damn right. It aint none of yer fucking business. Scamper off!” Great, just what he needed. Another guy to tell him what he was supposed to do.
The mountain of a man sighed and nodded, lifting his glass and pulling down the mask. “Yeah… I guess you are right, sorry. Send that text, doesn't seem like it will change anything.”
Soap narrowed his eyes, slightly swaying in his chair. “He spied on me best friend in the shower, ye ken?” The man nodded, still looking straight ahead, watching the barkeeper. “Tried tae fuck him as well!”
Blondie sighed and gave him a side eye, looking him up and down. “Then he is a fucking idiot. You are bloody gorgeous.” The words were grumbled before the man pulled his mask back up, following the barkeeper with his eyes while he served a clearly very drunk couple some water.
The clipped way he was speaking indicated this conversation to be over, but Soap's intoxicated brain didn't get the message. “Ah! Ye say that noo, but just ye wait until ye see Gaz, he is the hot friend…” there was a bit of bitterness in his voice, even though it wasn't quite true that it was a regular occurence. But two out of four of Soap's boyfriends had tried to get into Gazs pants while they were still with him and this was just too much to take.
“If you say so…” Blondie sounded a little amused and the skin around his eyes wrinkled ever so slightly. “But don't beat yourself up over it, looks ain't everything. Bet your friend ain't perfect either.”
Soap unlocked his phone, taking three tries before he entered the code correctly. “Nah, Gaz is a real sweetheart.” He mumbled, searching instagram for the man's profile, pushing over his phone and nudged the taller man to look at it. “There… look!”
Blondie took the phone into his left hand, the right one circling the rim of his glass lazily. It took a bit for him to get to the last post, Gaz was way more active on social media than Soap was. Most of his own pictures had been with Marcel or his friends, with the occasional candid shot of his flat or the Scottish highlands where his family lived.
“He is good looking.” The man stated with a shrug. “But not my type.” He sounded like he didn't just say something totally stupid.
Soap leaned back slightly, having to catch himself on the bar with his elbow. “Are ye racist?”
The man laughed at that, loud and bellowing, throwing his head back, causing his hood to slip from his forehead to the middle of his light hair. “That's the only thing that could make a man be not into this dude?” When Soap kept swaying and looking on suspiciously, he righted his hood and shook his head. “Not a racist. I promise.”
The Scot relaxed a bit, scooting closer again. “So ye are straight then?”
Another grin, clearly visible around the eyes. “Yeah. I am sitting here, checking you out because I am not into cock. That's it, you got it.” Another swig from the glass and Soap averted his eyes to give the poor guy some privacy. “He is just… too much the sleek model type for me.” A short pause. “I like ‘em a little more rugged.”
Soap laughed, looking back at the man. He was good looking, sure. But he was most certainly just trying to fuck him, searching for a good time and telling him everything he wanted to hear. “Is that so, hm?”
Blondie nodded, his eyes flicking between Soap's. “You don't believe me.” When the Scot nodded, he pulled out his own phone, unlocking it and passing it over. “Wanna look at my Grindr matches, to put your mind at ease?” There was jest in the man's warm eyes and Soap grinned, snatched his phone before searching for the app on the homescreen.
“Ye are a fockin’ weapon…” he laughed, leaning closer to hide the screen from the person on his other side. “But since ye offer, sure, why not?” The first thing he looked at was blondie's own profile. He didn't enter his name, just calling himself “Ghost”, while the bio was almost empty, safe for a few acronyms that Soap didn't know. ‘FTM. SRS: TS, no BS.’ It read like a joke he didn't quite get, but that was fine. He was way more interested in the man's pictures anyways.
There wasn't anything too outrageous, some gym selfies, one of them without a shirt, showcasing inches upon inches of pale, creamy skin dotted with tattoos. On the second glance, two long, slightly curved, horizontal scars gave him pause for a second. They were mostly hidden under the swell of his trained pecs but their color stood out slightly, just so revealing their existence to someone who looked closely enough. He awarded himself a few more seconds to indulge in the man's body before he swiped to the next one with a little shrug. He had not clocked him, but why not try something new once in a while…? Looking up, he noticed Blondie's probing gaze and he just grinned, cocking his head. Fuck, the man was smoking hot.
“Nice profile.” He assessed, switching over to the messages.
Ghost let him with an amused snort, taking another sip. “Thanks.” Was all he said to this before going back to watching Soap, allowing him to actually look through them. Something in the Scot piped up, telling him that he was going too far, but he shoved it down again because the mountain of a man next to him seemed relaxed, waiting for his judgment.
There was a guy with dark eyes, messy brown hair and a firmly set jaw, clad in a worn leather jacket and a fisherman beanie. ‘Keegan’ didn't look like he was fucking around, but neither did the next match, a couple that consisted of a tattooed Asian man holding down a tall, pale redhead by a black leash, choking him in the process. The sub still wore a self satisfied grin, even if his scarred mouth was slightly open and his eyes were swimming in tears. It went on like this, Ghost's matches were what he had promised, manly in a rugged, bold way. Nothing like Gazs pretty, model type.
“Well. Ah believe ye, but good grief, this was mighty forward.” He chuckled while passing the phone back and motioning the barkeeper to get them both another drink.
Ghost just shrugged, not a care in the world. “But did it bother you or are you just bitching around now?” His voice was still amused, so Soap took it was a good sign.
He leaned closer, looking into those dark eyes, his own hooded with desire. “No offense, but ye seem like one kinky motherfucker.”
His skin prickled when Ghost leaned closer, lips almost touching his ear and only too late did he realize that the man must have pulled down his mask, because he could feel the hot, dizzying breath against the shell of his ear before teeth scraped against the sensitive cartilage and a tongue ran over it immediatly after. “None taken, boy…” his voice was breathy, aroused and a hand got placed onto his thigh.
The Scot’s eyes widened and he felt his cock twitch just inches away from the strong, pale hand. It must have been visible, because it earned him another little bite, this time into the sensitive skin behind his ear. “Wanna get out of here…? My place isn't too far…”
It was such a cliche thing to say, but Soap couldn't help himself, this man was fucking sex on legs and if it helped him to forget about Marcel for a bit, this was just an added bonus. Besides, if he fucked someone else now, this would just be another hurdle if he was ever this dumb to consider taking the dirtbag back. Slamming down enough money to hopefully cover his and Ghost's drinks, he stood up, swallowed down the last one while watching him do the same.
God, he was tall, towering over him, looking down at Soap with lust in his eyes before leading the way. The Scot had no idea how this was supposed to go, much less what Ghost was working with in the dick department, if he wanted to fuck him or if he would even be allowed to touch whatever was between his legs. This made him realize that he probably should have asked a whole lot of questions about the man's preferences before agreeing to jump into bed with him.
But the blonde looked so goddamn delicious that Soap couldn't bring himself to regret this, he would just keep his mouth shut, try not to offend and roll with whatever this guy threw at him. If he had a cock, that was good, he knew how to work with one of those. If he had a pussy… well it wasn't what Soap was usually going for, but he had always been a quick learner…
Trailing after Ghost, he was painfully aware of his cock twitching in his pants. God, he was fucked…
After a quick stop at a kiosk to buy condoms, he found himself crowded into the dark hallway of Ghost's flat, his own hands on Ghost's belt, pressing him against his erection, both of them moaning when Soap ground against him particularly roughly. It tore a sigh of relief from him when he felt a bulge between the man's legs, knowing that he at least would be able to handle this.
Ghost cupped his ass, helping him move against him in a rolling motion, biting his lip before trailing downward, nipping at his neck, his throat, his collarbone…
He could feel himself leak into his pants when he received a harsh bite into his shoulder, his hand flying up to curl into the short, blonde hair. “Fuck… Ghost!” He rasped and looked up when the man pulled back a bit, expression unreadable in the darkness.
“That's not my name.” he stated flatly and Johnny flushed. “Where did you even get that from?”
“Just… just your dating profile… My name’s John. I am sorry.” This was awkward, Ghost clearly thought he was weird.
He could hear the man snickering before a warm, calloused hand closed around his, shaking it slightly. “Hi Sorry, I am Simon.”
Johnny couldn't help himself but laugh and by what he could hear, Simon did as well. “Ye are a fockin’ weapon!” He pulled the man closer again, feeling his stomach flutter and his cock regaining its previous hardness when his partner leaned down and kissed him again, meeting his tongue, biting him slightly, but never hard enough to hurt in an uncomfortable way.
Slowly, between kisses and both of them losing their shirts, they stumbled down the hall and Soap knocked down something from a sideboard, but before he could check on it, Simon pulled him further, telling him not to bother with it, that he had something nice waiting for him in the bedroom.
When the blonde turned on a moroccan, arched bedsidetable lamp, the nice thing turned out to be pretty fucking hot actually. Simon still stood close to him, looking down slightly, eyes raking over him with obvious hunger, with pure lust and want in those chestnut eyes. The scars on his chest were a little more visible like this, even in the dimn light and for the fracture of a second, John asked himself if Simon had angled the camera in a way to hide them a bit.
It didn't matter in the next moment when he got pressed down on the bed, cock rubbing together with the taller man producing the most delicious sounds known to mankind. Marcel never sounded like this with me… he thought with a flash of anger and frustration, that vaporized into awe when Simon arched his back and sat up, subsequently breaking their open mouthed kiss. It was a shame, but Soap couldn't make himself care when Simon showed off the strong strands of muscles in the process, padded by a healthy amount of fat. He couldn't help but run his hands about the soft pecs, stroking his thumbs over the scars with a featherlike touch before working them over the man's hard nipples.
“Fuck, Johnny, I wanna do things to you…” the blonde moaned, leaning back a bit more, rubbing himself on his cock a little awkwardly, further down than Soap himself would have prefered. But if he liked it to have his testicles toyed with… “Want me tae play with yer balls, hm…?” He asked breathily, watching the man roll his hips. So fucking hot…
Ghost stopped for a second before his grin became wicked and he quickly stepped out of the bed, beginning to undress. “You are a real funny one, hm…?” Soap wasn't sure what he meant by that, but followed his example, excited to get his hands on the whole man, excited to explore him. He wasn't entirely sure how his cock would look, how sensitive it would be, if it would get hard, how this was supposed to go, but one thing was clear, the man was anything but small, if the drag of his bulge had been anything to go by.
He got back to reality when Ghost sat down on his thighs, rolling a condom over Soap's leaking cock before grinding something wet and hot over it. Soap threw his head back and pushed up out of instinct when the swollen tip of his dick caught against something tight. Looking down, his heart sank into his stomach and his gaze jerked up to Ghost, whose face was contorted with pleasure, his eyes closed and his mouth agape, lips shiny with spit.
“Still…. ahhhhh Johnny….” The man moaned and Johnny could see a small cock peek out between the thick folds where a clit was supposed to be, rubbing against his own dick. When John thrust his glans against it, Ghost shuddered, moaning loudly and pressing down harder with a whimper.
This was unbelievably hot, his pleasure, the wetness, the strength with which he pinned down Soap… it made his head spin, he just wanted more, more, everything Ghost would be willing to give him. And judging by how he had put a condom on him, just to press his tight hole against his cock, the man had a lot to give tonight.
Watching their obscene display, he had to think back to his earlier inner question with a slight grin. His cock was indeed hard and gorgeous. How it peeked out between his folds, all shiny with thick, translucent slick and aroused by him, by Soap's cock… he just couldn't help himself but lick his thumb and forefinger for some extra wetness before he stroked over it experimentally.
It jerked slightly, but that could be put down to Ghost still sliding his cunt all over Johnny's length, almost catching his rim on the throbbing tip, again and again. This was nothing like it had ever been with Marcel. This was so much better, this was hot and raw and passionate…
With this thought, he started jerking the man's enlarged clit, slowly and cautiously. It wasn't as long as it had looked at first, but Soap wasn't that familiar with female anatomy, so he went for a gentle pace, waiting for a reaction to tell him what to do.
And a reaction he got. Ghost grunted, deeply and rumbling, thrusting against his fingers. “Johnny… fuck, just like this… good fucking boy… fuck, you wanna make me cum like this, hm? Wanna get me all nice and wet before even fucking me?”
Soap just managed a nod between his own, way too loud moans, the alcohol made him lose all inhibitions. He wanted to thrust into this man, wanted to bury himself as deeply as possible, fill him up with his cum…
Dangerous, dangerous thoughts, John… he thought to himself. He still couldn't help himself and when Ghost placed both his hands on Johnny shoulders, supporting his weight against him while still rubbing his fucking slutty hole against his tip. The next time it caught on the man's rim, he thrust up experimentally, sliding in just an inch before slipping out again when Ghost slid back. He was already about to apologize, when the motion repeated itself and the blonde moaned loudly, getting spread open by Johnny's thick head.
“Fuck, just the tip, Johnny, fuck, fuck, FUCK!” His hips jerked, again and again and Soap quickly had to abandon his technique on the man's clit, settling for rubbing uncoordinated circles over it hastily.
Only the first two inches slipped in an out of this heavenly wetness and he brought one hand to his hip, whimpering and trying to get deeper, sheathing himself fully, but Simon just laughed breathily. He had no chance against the blondes raw strength, his dominance, so he just let himself be used by him, getting closer and closer to his orgasm.
Simon watched his face, flushed, needy, his mouth open. “Fuck, your cock is really uselessly big, hm Johnny?” The deep rasp of his voice made him shake and ne nooded. “Pathetic, don't even know what to do with it when you stick it up a nice, wet cunt, only trying to get off like a dog…” the man's breath grew more and more ragged as he rode Soap. “What would you do to get to cum, mutt?”
Soap knew there was only one true answer. Only one he truly wanted to give. “Everything… everything Sir! I just wanna be inside of you!” It sounded pathetic, but judging by how Ghost threw his head back, moaning and spasming, it was the one he had been looking for.
“Gonna let you cum in my pussy…” he moaned. “But under one circumstance… I wanna do something and I want you to take it like a good boy.”
With his brain fucked out of him, Soap only nodded, quickly and needily.
“Open your mouth.”
His hip jerked up as Ghost's hand came up to his face, fingers pressing against the hinges of his jaw, forcing him into compliance. And Soap loved it.
“I am going to spit into your mouth.” A moan. “I am going to do it as often as I want and you are gonna swallow it all, are we clear?”
Soap whimpered out an affirmative and swallowed obediently as the first glob of spit hit his tongue. It was so god damn filthy, Ghost was everything John didn't even know he had dreamt of.
“What a good-” his hips slammed down on Soap’s with a wet, loud squelch. “Good-!” Slam! “Good boy!” The rythm got faster and he could hear Simon squirm and melm, could feel the man's sopping cunt clench down on his cock.
He spat at him, again and again, more often than not missing his mouth. Instead, the wetness was hitting his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, his chin. But Soap didn't care, Simon could do everything he pleased to him, as long as John got to rut up into this clenching, slick heat, deeper, deeper, deeper with each frantic thrust.
Suddently, Simon's cunt spasmed and he could swear he felt something wet trickle down his own balls as he fucked the man through his orgasm, never letting up on his pulsing, swollen clit, chasing his own orgasm, that he reached just half a minute or so later.
When he came down from his high, he could feel Simon's thick, muscular thighs trembling and as he looked up into the exhausted face, he knew that the man was as wrecked as him. “Come…” he sighed, out of breath. “Lemme… Lemme take care of ye…”
Rolling them around was surprisingly easy now that Simon was this sluggish and he pulled out, tying up the condom and throwing it into the trashcan next to the bedside table. Luckily, he didn't miss, it would have been disgusting to step on it tomorrow… Idiot, you don't even know if he wants you to stay…
Slowly, he slid down between those thick, muscular legs, looking up at both the man and the mound of his cunt. He couldn't really see much, but the slick oozing out of the fat lips of his pussy was so god damn inviting.
“God, don't look at my cunt as if you have never seen one.” There was a slight chuckle when Simon adjusted his head to be able to look down at him better.
Soap just grinned back with exhaustion clearly visible in his sluggish motions. “Let me have this… saw one… but never fucked a w-... someone with one.”
Ghost just snorted, spreading his legs further, teasingly exposing his glistening, flushed hole as well as a small cock where a clit should be. It looked fucked out, gaping from where Soap's dick had been just minutes before, sawing in and out of him in their shared search for pleasure. “Well. First time for anything, am I right?” When Soap nodded, he smiled. “Get to work then…”
And oh, did Soap get to work. He lapped up the fluids around his thighs and the outer lips before breathing in the musky, intense smell of his arousal. The slight taste of latex couldn't deter him when he dove back in, licking into his oozing hole, suckling and moaning when Ghost lazily pulled one leg up against his meaty chest to give him more space.
He lost himself in the sensation when Ghost placed a gentle hand on his hair, stroking it between soft moans while Johnny alternated between licking his entrance and sucking the small, oh so reactive cock. This was heaven and Ghost was his god, benevolently letting him feast on this gift to the world.
Sadly, he didn't make the man cum again and after what could have been everything between five minutes or five hours, Ghost pulled him up, kissing him slowly and gently before wiping his spit and slick soiled face with the corner of the throw-blanket. “I can't any more…” he muttered before pressing one last kiss to his forehead. “But you are welcome to stay for breakfast… I promise I will also cook you something to eat afterwards.”
Soap laughed and snuggled closer, kissing his chest before he placed his head in the soft hollow between Ghost's shoulder and his pec, nuzzling into it. “That sounds great…” he mumbled, feeling a slight flutter in his belly at the thought of spending more time with the man.
“Before you decide, I have a confession to make…” a kiss was placed on his mohawk and Soap looked up lazily. “Price sent me to look after you… he and Gaz were kinda worried that you would get alcohol poisoning.” Ghost sounded like he actually felt kind of bad.
Soap groaned and buried his face in the soft meat. “God, that's sae embarassing, they send someone tae fuck me sae ah dinnae end up in the hospital…?”
Ghost pressed him closer before pulling a blanket over him. “Idiot… the fucking was all me, was just supposed to sit in a corner and look out for you, but god damn, you were so pretty, I just had to talk to you…”
Johnny laughed and shoved him weakly before nipping at his chest with no real malice. “Are ye gonna show a picture of me to yer next date as well?” He wasn't angry. This had been great and weirdly enough, he didn't feel like changing anything about this night. Maybe this was what he had needed to break off an engagement with someone who always delivered more lows than highs.
Ghost just squeezed him hard, but only for a few seconds, without really hurting him. “Why should I show you your own pictures?”
Soap laughed and met those pretty, warm eyes. “Can ah tell ye somethin’ as well?” Ghost made a lazy ‘go on’ gesture. “Ah thought ye had a cock. Could have sworn ah felt one, ah have never been this blindsided by a pussy.” After the words were out, he noticed that this might not have been the most sensitive thing to say, but Simon took it in stride.
“I have a cock, if you wanna meet it, it's on the floor, in my underwear. But if you want more diversity, just open the nightstand and pick whichever.” There was jest in his voice and Soap just yawned in response.
“Maybe tomorrow…” he smiled before closing his eyes, settling in for the night when Simon switched off the light.
He was warm under him, soft and perfect to fall asleep on… Needless to say, Soap was going to have the best fucking morning of his life tomorrow…