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lack of experience

Summary:

simon reveals his lack of experience. soap offers to help.

Notes:

I did proofread this but also it is 2am so my bad on any typos.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

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Simon was drunk again. He loved being drunk. The world was fuzzy, he couldn’t string two thoughts together, and he’d never felt happier. He sat in a booth in the corner of the bar beside their base, whiskey in hand. Condensation dripped from the glass, dampening his glove. He had the perfect vantage point to watch Soap and Gaz standing at the bar, chatting up two admittedly gorgeous women, a blonde and a brunette.

Earlier, he had been jealous, the fire burning in his gut. Now, he just wanted to watch Johnny. He smiled and leaned into the blonde woman, saying something that made her laugh. His cheeks were flushed pink from the booze and the warm room and Ghost found himself picturing Johnny in the gym, in the field, in his bed. He pulled up his mask and took another sip of the whiskey before quickly putting it back in place.

He was jolted out of his daydream by Soap and Gaz walking back over to him.
“I’m, uh,” Gaz looked back at the brunette, “I’m gonna head out, Ghost.” Simon nodded, raising his glass to his friend. Soap slid into the seat next to him.

“Not going anywhere, Johnny?” They both watched the blonde follow her friend and Gaz outside.

“Nah, thought I’d hang with you, L.T.” He smiled, looking out at the bar while tossing his arm over the back of the booth, behind Simon.

Something warmed in Ghost’s chest, his eyes roving over Johnny’s face. His blue eyes were fixed on Simon’s. He watched intently while Simon pulled the mask up to take another sip of his drink, licking his lips.

“You goin’ home with anyone tonight, Ghostie?”

Simon huffed, lips quirking in a smirk. “Not tonight.” He pulled his mask back down, fabric covering his most vulnerable part. He could feel the warmth of Johnny’s body next to his, his thigh only a few inches away from Simon’s.

“C’mon, L.T., there’s really no one here that tickles your fancy? Lots of pretty ladies here today.” Johnny’s words have started to slur a bit, the beer in his hand had to have been his fourth or fifth.

“They’re not my type,” Ghost said firmly.

“No?” Soap shifted his arm, resting it on Ghost’s shoulders and patting his back. “Let me get you another drink and you can tell me all about your type.” His face was so close to Simon’s, he could smell the booze on his breath.

“Let’s get back to base, Sergeant.” Ghost stood up, only wavering slightly, while Soap pulled himself out of the booth and stumbled after him.

 

“You’re such a buzzkill, L.T.,” Soap whined, running headfirst into Ghost’s back while he stopped to pay his (and Soap’s) tab on the way out. Soap didn’t seem to notice.

The chill of the outside air sobered Simon up a bit, clearing his head. Soap walked beside him, face up watching the stars.

Johnny looked so pretty like this; cheeks flushed, body loose, free with his touch and his words. And now he was thinking about Soap’s mouth.

Yet again, he was jolted out of his fantasies by Johnny grabbing his hand and swinging it between them.

“So, Ghostie, what is your type?” He looked up at Simon, batting his eyelashes.

“None of your business, Sergeant.” He stalked forward, shaking his hand off, but Johnny just walked faster to keep up.

“I’m just curious, sir, no need to get all pissy on me.”

Ghost kept walking.

“It’s just… I’ve never seen you even talking to someone at the bars. Are you interested at all?” Johnny’s shoulder brushed his.

He lets out a sharp laugh. Oh, if only he knew. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was pure stupidity, but Simon wanted to answer. “I’m interested in someone.” He kept his eyes on the road ahead, pretending the dumbstruck sergeant hovering at his elbow was an annoying gnat.

Soap took a minute to gather his thoughts. “Really? I’ve never seen you even look at a girl at the bar, sir.”

“Maybe they’re not my type.” As soon as it came out of his mouth, he regretted it, but Soap latched on.

“Girls at bars,” he looked at Ghost, “or is it girls in general?”

Ghost didn’t answer. He was fairly sure that Soap wasn’t homophobic, but he wasn’t about to tell one of his deepest secrets to a drunk sergeant in a dark alleyway.

Soap kept talking, “It’s okay if you don’t like girls, sir. It’s not a big deal or anything, I mean– you know I wouldn’t care.” Simon had never had this conversation before. He was uninterested in girls growing up and by the time he realized there was another option, he was too fucked in the head to pursue anything.

They were finally reaching the outskirts of the base when Soap said, “I mean, you know–” Soap took a breath, “I like both.”

Ghost did not know that. “Oh.” He watched his breath puff out into the cold air.

“So, is it a lad you like?” Soap continued, seemingly not content with just dropping the subject like Simon so desperately wished he would.

Ghost flicked his gaze to Soap, the answer in his eyes.

“I figured out I liked both in training,” Soap rambled, “One of my bunk mates was right stunning and we went out to a bar one night after a long day and ya know, I had a bit too much to drink and so did he and we ended up in the alley together.”

This was not something Ghost needed to think about. He pictured Soap on his knees, a hard cock in his hand, spit dribbling from his lips. His pants felt a little tighter.

“How did you figure it out? That you didn’t like girls?” Soap asked. This was the time for Simon to deny everything. To tell Soap he was wrong and to never ask him shit like that again. He still had his chance. Unfortunately, Ghost was not sober enough to stop himself from answering.

He shrugged, staring down at his feet, “Just always knew.”

“No formative experience then?”

“Nah. No time for that.”

Soap stopped in his tracks. Ghost pointedly ignored him and continued walking back to base. Should only be another minute or two.

“Hold on, L.T.,” Soap rushed up behind him, wrapping a burning hand around his upper arm. “What do you mean ‘no time for that’?” Soap looks incredulous.

Ghost turned to face him, far too aware of the pressure of Soap’s hand. “You’ve seen my face once, do you really think I’ve ever messed around with a guy?”

Ghost’s mouth snapped shut, red blooming in his cheeks. Soap’s jaw dropped. Ghost turned on his heel and walked away with as much normality as he could muster. It took Soap a few seconds to reset his brain before he ran to catch up.

“Never, sir? C’mon, really?”

Simon was very grateful for his mask hiding the deep red flush of his face. “No, sergeant.” They approached the gates to base. Ghost looked over at Soap, noting his furrowed brows. “If you’re gonna make a joke, make it now.”

“No, sir.” They walked through the gates in silence, heading straight towards their wing of the side building that housed the 141 headquarters.

As they neared their rooms, Ghost could tell Soap wanted to say something. He stopped in front of his own door, and Soap stopped with him, his door just one more down.
“Spit it out, sergeant.”

“You can tell me to fuck off if you want, okay?” Soap took a breath. “But if you ever want to… have that experience. I’d be willing.”

Simon froze. Did Johnny know about his little crush? Surely not. He was so careful to never stretch the bounds of their friendship. The light flickered once, twice. Johnny’s eyes scanned his face, looking for any hint of a reaction.

“I— Goodnight, Sergeant.” Ghost whispered, unable to bring himself to answer. He turned and shut himself in his room.

“Alright— Just think about it, Ghost.” Soap called, voice muffled through the door.

Ghost really wasn’t sure how he was supposed to react to something like this. What are you supposed to do when your crush, who is also your subordinate, and also your friend, offers to take your virginity?

 

Ghost thought about it. Constantly. In bed that night he thought about it while desperately trying to get a few minutes of shut-eye, but all that resulted in was an obscene tent in his boxers.

The next morning, Soap acted completely normal. He teased Ghost, poked fun at the mask, and even winked at him after making a dirty joke. Ghost did his best impression of his usual self, but every time he looked at Johnny, his words from last night played in his head. Was Soap serious?

It took three days for Simon to build up the courage to ask.

Heart pounding in his chest and stomach in his throat, Ghost knocked on Soap’s door at 2200. He heard shuffling through the wood, a bang, and a muffled curse before Johnny opened the door.

His sergeant stood there in all his glory, mohawk long and messy, in sweatpants and an indecently tight t-shirt. Simon swallowed.

“Hi, sir! Do you need me?” He wore a polite, helpful smile.

“Yes.” Ghost took a breath. “Were you serious? About your offer?”

Soaps expression changed. He grabbed Ghost’s wrist and pulled him into his room, shutting the door behind them.

“I was deadly serious, sir.”

“Simon. You can call me Simon.” Soap had to already know his name, but the explicit permission made his entire body light up.

“Alright, Simon. Talk to me, how do you want to do this?”

Simon had no idea. His hands were sweaty and shaking, which he tried to quell by shoving his hands in his pockets. “I don’t— I don’t know.” His voice came out as a whisper and he was absolutely sure his face was bright red beneath the mask.

Soap cooed and walked towards him. “That’s okay, sweetheart. Want me to take the lead?”

Ghost nodded.

“Alright. How far have you gone?”

“I kissed a boy in Year 10.” Soap took another step closer, putting a hand on Simon’s arm.

“Let’s start slow. Do you wanna kiss me?” Ghost nodded frantically. Soap just smiled warmly up at him.

“Over the mask?”

Ghost didn’t have to think about it, he just ripped off the balaclava and stared at Johnny’s lips. They were so pink and looked so soft. Soap grabbed the back of his head, tangling his hands in Simon’s messy hair.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Simon’s face had to be hot pink at this point.

“Hello.”

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” Soap said softly and leaned in.

Their lips met softly, a fireball of warmth settling in Simon’s chest. Johnny’s lips were just as soft as they looked. When he felt Soap’s tongue flick against his bottom lip, he opened his mouth to let him in. Johnny released a guttural moan Simon could feel in his bones as he pressed their bodies together. He could feel the firm muscles of Soap’s body and his hardening cock against his upper thigh. Simon tried to hold himself back, but couldn’t help rocking his hips into Johnny.

“There ya go, just let go, baby, I’ve got you.” Simon let out an embarrassing whimper at Soap’s reassuring words. “Let me make you feel good.”

Simon, without breaking their lips, let Johnny push him towards the small bed, letting out a soft huff as his back hit the soft mattress.

Johnny tugged on the hem of his own shirt, revealing a few inches of muscular, hair-coated skin. Simon lurched up to join him, tugging his own shirt off in an instant. He went to lean back in, but Soap pushed him back onto the bed.

“God, you’re so pretty, Simon. Look at ya.” No one had seen Simon’s body in a long time. He knew his torso was covered in brutal scars, reminders from an even worse past. His heartbeat quickened, expecting Johnny’s pitying reaction. Instead, Soap just looked in awe. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, I swear to god.” His hand drifted towards Simon’s chest, brushing over a peaked nipple. Simon let out a soft gasp, pushing his pecs into Soap’s hand.

“Yeah?” He pinched his nipple lightly, a shock of electricity shooting from Simon’s chest to his cock, already hard and leaking in his pants. “Feel good, Si?” It was the first time he had ever used the nickname but it felt so damn right that Ghost couldn’t help but whine his agreement. This was the most out of control he had felt in years.

Soap dove back in, capturing his lips in a hungry kiss. He kept his hand on his nipple, switching between the two every so often. He sucked Ghost’s lower lip into his mouth, using his teeth to stretch it before letting it go with a soft pop. He leaned down, kissing Simon’s jaw, his neck, his collarbones.

“Can I leave marks? Please, Si,” Johnny practically moaned.

“Yes, please. Just lower. Don’t want anyone to see,” Simon gasped. Johnny grunted his assent and began to suck harsh kisses, using his teeth to pull at the pale skin. He left a trail of red marks down Simon’s chest and knew he would be covered in pretty shades of blue and purple soon. Simon threaded his hands through Johnny’s overgrown mohawk. He was so damn grateful he hadn’t made him get a haircut that followed regulations.

Simon shuddered as Soap’s pecs brushed the bulge of his cock on his way down. He hooked his thumbs into Simon’s waistband, raising a questioning eyebrow. Simon just nodded and Soap pulled only his sweatpants down. His cock jutted obscenely in his boxers, the dark mark at the tip obvious. Soap just grinned before pushing his face into the base of Simon’s cock. He inhaled deeply, rubbing his cheek against his shaft.

“Oh, fuck,” Simon gasped, the knot in his stomach tightening, “Please, Johnny.” Soap planted a kiss right on top of the wet mark marring his boxers before pulling them down and watching Simon’s cock spring loose, hitting his stomach with a soft slap.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Johnny asked.

“Mhmm. Just— give me a few seconds.” He leaned back, looked very smug at Simon desperately trying not to cum so soon. He tilted forward, placing a soft kiss and quick lick on the head of Simon’s cock.

Simon cried out, cock jerking upwards. Soap had leaned back again, not touching but Simon couldn’t stop himself. Untouched, he began to shoot white stripes on his chest. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whined, body writhing in the sheets which Soap watched in amazement. His hands grabbed Simon’s thighs, rubbing them through his sudden orgasm.

“Holy Shit, Simon. You’re fucking incredible.” Slowly, Simon’s breathing evened out, vision coming back into focus. Soap’s hands ran the length of Ghost’s torso, still watching him with a look of wonder and worship.

“We can stop right now, Si. I can clean you up and get you a cup of tea and we can watch a movie and cuddle,” Soap offered.

Simon took one look at the tent in Soap’s pants and shook his head. “Wanna keep going. Want you to fuck me.”

“Holy shit.” Soap’s head dropped, chin against his chest. “Yeah, I can do that.” He leaned down and pulled Simon into another kiss before standing up and pulling down his sweatpants and boxers in one movement. Simon watched, mesmerized with the bounce of Soap’s cock and his glistening tip.

“Where do you want me?”

“Just like that, sweetheart. Wanna see that stunning face.” He reached up to his face, thumb brushing over the scattered scars. Simon leaned back, spreading his legs, still dangling off the bed while Soap stood between them.

One hand massaging Simon’s inner thigh, Soap reached over to his nightstand, grabbing a bottle of lube Simon hadn’t noticed before. He poured some into his palm, letting it sit and warm for a minute, hand teasingly close to where Simon’s mostly soft cock rested in a pool of cum.

He lifted Simon’s knee, propping his leg up on the bed and giving himself better access to the most vulnerable parts of Simon. Soft golden hair dusted his cheeks, darkening as it neared his hole. Soap ran a gentle and slick finger over the furl, shushing Ghost’s mewls. He cycled between applying light pressure to his entrance and massaging around it, waiting for Simon to relax and loosen.

“C’mon, baby, I got you. Just relax, let your muscles go, I’ll take care of you.”

Simon did his best to release all the tension in his body.

“There we go, good boy,” Soap crooned. Simon’s cock leaped, already at half-mast again.

Johnny pushed a single finger in, only to the first knuckle, and pulled it back out to rest on his hole.

“Feel okay?”

“Yes, fuck.” Soap grinned and pushed the finger back in, deeper this time. The feeling of someone else’s finger up your ass was definitely strange, but Simon was pretty sure he liked it. Soap pressed even deeper, and suddenly crooked his finger up towards Ghost’s abdomen.

Ghost shouted, lighting racing through his body. He jackknifed on the bed, forcing Soap’s finger out.

“Shh, Shh, it’s okay.”

“Sorry,” Ghost whispered. “Feels good when you do it.” He uncurled his body, opening himself back up for Soap. “Please keep touching me.”

His pathetic whine only encouraged Soap, who pressed two fingers into Ghost’s tight hole. He clenched instinctively, but relaxed soon after, only wanting more of Soap inside him. Soap’s fingers pumped in and out, brushing lightly against Simon’s prostate. His cock rose to its full height, more precum leaking out. He could see Soap’s cock, so hard it was almost purple, dripping between his legs and spread his own even wider.

Johnny worked his way up to three and then four fingers. When Simon was unintelligible in his moans and groans, Soap pulled out.

“Ready, baby?” Simon just nodded.

Soap notched his cock against Simon’s relaxed hole, only applying a light pressure. Simon whined and pressed his hips closer, forcing the head of Johnny’s cock inside. They both let out a long groan, Soap at the heat and grip of Simon’s ass, and Ghost at the satisfaction of finally being filled.

“More, please,” he whined. Soap obliged, pressing in until his hips met Simon’s ass.

Ghost whined again, circling his hips, but Soap grabbed them and stilled his movement.

“Hold on, baby. Hold on.” After a few deep breaths, he started to move.

 

Simon could barely breathe, breath hitching whenever the head of Johnny’s cock hit his prostate.

Soap’s hips began to stutter after only a dozen or so thrusts. “Not gonna last, Si,” he groaned, wrapping his hand around Simon’s sensitive cock, drawing out a whine. “Can I cum inside you?”

“Please, Johnny!” he moaned, “Cum inside me, please!”

He matched every thrust with a pull of Simon’s cock as they both hurtled towards the edge.

Soap let out a cry and pushed all the way in with only the strength a deadly soldier could have. His cock spilled into Ghost’s hole. He sped his hand up, focusing on the head until Simon came as well, spilling over his hand, and clenching his hole around Soap’s orgasming cock.

Johnny collapsed on Simon’s chest, panting. Simon wrapped his arms around Johnny’s broad chest as he also worked to catch his breath.

He watched in amazement as Johnny lifted his head and brought his hand to his mouth, licking Simon’s cum off his fingers one by one.

“Oh my god,” Simon gasped.

“You are so incredible, Simon Riley.”

“You know my last name?”

Soap looked at Ghost like he was an idiot. “It’s on your shirt.”

“Oh.”

Soap snorted and pressed his grinning face in between Ghost’s pecs.

“I could live here, ya know?” His voice was muffled.

“I’ll allow it.” They lay in silence for a few seconds or possibly a few hours. They should get up now. Soap had helped Ghost and now he should leave, right? Not infringe on Soap’s space? Oh god, this was so inappropriate. Simon should have never come to Soap’s door, never taken him seriously. Had he coerced his subordinate into sex? Did Johnny feel like he had to say yes when Simon showed up at his door? His heart pounded.

“If you want to ask for a transfer, I’ll sign off on it,” Ghost threw out with a measured casualness.

“What?” Soap barked. “Why the fuck would I do that?”

“I just don’t want you to feel trapped. By me. I really appreciate you helping but if you never want to see my face again I’ll help you get transferred out. I’ll get you a good position, I swear. I’ll—”

“Ghost!” Soap cut him off. He sat up and rested both hands on Ghost’s cheeks. “I’m not going anywhere. Not unless you want me to leave.”

“No!” Ghost’s voice cracked. “Please don’t leave.”

“We can be whatever you want, baby. We can pretend this never happened or we can just keep hooking up until you find someone, I’m okay with anything, I just want you.”

“And if I want more?” Ghost croaked.

Soap lit up, his grin could spread light and warmth to the darkest corners of the world. “Yeah, I want more. I want to be with you, to worship you forever. Wanted it for so long, Si.”

“Yeah?” Now Simon was grinning too.

“Yeah,” Johnny said, and leaned in for a kiss.

Notes:

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