Chapter Text
as long as it's about me
Ghost pushed Soap roughly back against the wall.
“Just can’t help yourself, can you, Johnny?” Ghost mouthed at Soap’s throat through his mask, putting a hand to his neck. “Like a kid and a cookie jar.”
“Wasn’t told no enough as a child.” Soap chuckled, leaning into the attention.
“Mm.” Ghost slid his hand up to cradle Soap’s jaw. “Makes me think you need a reminder on who you belong to.” He then shoved his leg between Soap’s, pressing his thigh hard into his crotch, and pushing Soap’s shirt up over his stomach.
Ghost was halfway out to the yard when he saw Soap and König on their way in. Soap had shown an interest in their newest addition that Ghost had watched with intrigue. Anyone who spent more than a few casual minutes with the sergeant learned pretty damn quick that Soap liked ‘em tall and strong. And König certainly fit the bill - even Ghost’s 6’4’’ was left looking measly.
Jealous wasn’t the right word for it. Soap was flirted with everywhere he went, and Ghost had always known he would be. Most of the time, Ghost got a kick out of seeing how long it took Soap to figure out he was being hit on. (The record was three days. That poor rookie.) Once in a while, Ghost would sidle up behind the sergeant and remove any notion the other party might have had that there was a chance there. (This usually involved blatant use of Ghost’s hands, but he wasn’t above a not-so-subtle innuendo or veiled threat.) When this did happen, Soap would inevitably laugh, and spend the night reminding Ghost why he had no reason to worry.
Ghost wasn’t worried; he never had been. He enjoyed knowing just how desirable his partner was, enjoyed knowing that - despite the attention - Soap had eyes for no one else.
But something was different about König. Ghost had watched him and Soap spar earlier, had watched Soap purposefully allow an obvious attempt to pin, had watched König become flustered when he succeeded. Flustered. Most of the people who flirted with Soap had the confidence to back it up. After all, it took guts to walk up to someone like the sergeant and attempt to talk your way into his pants.
But König wasn’t flirting with Soap; no, just the opposite - Soap was flirting with him. And that sparked something primal in Ghost. Still not jealousy, though. No, if pressed, Ghost would eventually admit that he was not at all opposed to the idea of letting Soap have everything he wanted. (Clearly, in this case, it was being completely dominated by a man a foot taller than him.) He knew where Soap’s loyalty lay; he wasn’t worried about that in the slightest. But the idea that Soap would flirt so brazenly when he knew Ghost was watching….
So when he saw the two of them coming in from the yard, Ghost slipped back into the shadows, and let them pass, unnoticed.
“Nice work out there today, König!” Soap was saying, grinning up at the taller man.
“Ah!” Despite his face being hidden, König was clearly smiling. “Thank you, sergeant!”
Soap gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder, and turned to head back to his quarters. But he stopped, and half-turned back to König. Ghost saw him smirk. “You’ll have to show me what else you can do sometime,” Soap said, in a tone Ghost recognized all too well.
“O-of course!” König replied, looking startled, but pleased.
Soap turned to continue on his way. But not before shooting a quick wink at Ghost.
The cheeky fucker.
Ghost was already straightening, ready to go after Soap to give him a little reminder of what this sort of behavior resulted in, but heard a light chuckle. He turned back to see König rubbing his shoulder, looking rather delighted.
Ghost crossed his arms, and tilted his head. That’s when König noticed him.
There was a beat.
“Lieu-lieutenant!” König stammered.
Ghost fixed him with a stare that apparently cut through him far more effectively than he could have ever hoped. König tensed, and began saying something else in a mix of German and English. Ghost said nothing, and left to follow Soap.
“As far as punishments go,” Soap murmured with a smirk, “this ain’t much of one, Lt.”
When Ghost had cornered Soap in his room, the sergeant had not been surprised in the slightest. In fact, he had greeted Ghost with a grin and arms draped comfortably over the lieutenant’s shoulders, as if he had been waiting for Ghost. He had been, knowing all too well what was going to happen.
Well. He thought he knew what was going to happen, that is.
“That so?” Ghost hooked a thumb into his mouth; Soap’s tongue met it without hesitation. “I’ll have to try harder then.” Before Soap could respond, Ghost shoved his hand into Soap’s pants, pulling his dick free.
That something primal within Ghost had taken hold at Soap’s shameless behavior, and he hadn’t hesitated to let it take over entirely.
Soap gasped, scrambling to grab onto whatever he could, gripping Ghost’s arm tightly.
“Do you really think you’ll get away with flaunting yourself in front of everyone who looks at you?” Ghost growled, pressing his thumb into Soap’s tongue. Soap attempted to respond, but was stymied by the hand at his mouth. “You forget too easily, Johnny,” Ghost continued, smearing saliva over his lips, “I own you.”
Soap whined, back arching off the wall, as Ghost began to jerk him off without any particular kindness. They had established limits and safewords; Soap knew how to get Ghost to stop if he really wanted him to.
But he never did.
“If you’re going to offer yourself up to everyone who walks onto base,” Ghost rumbled against his cheek, “I’ll just have to do better to make sure they know who you belong to, won’t I?”
“Yes,” Soap gasped, “yes, fuck—”
“You know what you’ve been doing with him,” Ghost continued, tilting Soap’s head back, baring his throat. “You know I’ve been watching. Is this what you wanted, then? Have I not done enough to remind you that you’re mine?”
“Can— can always do more,” Soap chuckled breathlessly.
“You brat,” Ghost growled, pressing him into the wall.
Soap whimpered, clutching at his arm, but was still grinning at him. “C’mon, Lt,” he panted, “show me what belonging to you really means.”
How satisfying was it, truly, to hear those words? That alone was why Ghost was never worried, never jealous. He knew he had Soap wrapped around his finger; they both knew it. It hadn’t been in question since the day Ghost had first held Soap’s face in his hands and kissed him. They would play up their respective roles, of course, but there had never been any doubt - to anyone - who owned whose heart.
“Do you want me to fuck you properly?” Ghost asked, leaning back to take in the sight of Soap being slowly but surely broken down at his hands. “Or do you want to come just like this? I know you’re close, Johnny, I can feel it.”
“Fuck,” Soap panted, his head falling forward onto Ghost’s shoulder, thrusting into Ghost’s fist. “I want— I want you, but fuck, Simon, I— you’re-you’re going too— too f-fast, I’m gonna—”
Ghost pulled his hand away immediately with a growled, “No.”
“Fuck!” Soap spat; his dick was leaking already, just on the edge. He threw his head back against the wall. “You fuckin’ bastar—”
Ghost cut him off and - cowl dropped from the lower half of his face - pressed into a messy kiss, holding Soap's jaw in a strong grip. Tense, frustrated, annoyed, Soap grabbed him, a hand on Ghost’s shoulder, another on the back of his head, pushing his tongue into Ghost’s mouth.
“That’s right,” Ghost breathed across his lips, holding Soap back from chasing another kiss. “You don’t come until I say you can.”
“Simon,” Soap begged.
“You wanted punishment,” Ghost reminded him with a smirk, leaning in, but still refusing to kiss him again. “And you’ll get punishment.”
“Simon.”
Ghost was pleased to see that Soap was starting to realize that he wasn’t going to be getting out of this one as easily as he thought he would. “Rethinking our decisions, Johnny?” he hummed, slipping his other hand under Soap’s shirt. He dug his fingers into the meat of Soap’s stomach. “Are you starting to remember what happens when you offer to spread your legs for anyone else?”
Soap pressed his fingers into Ghost’s bicep, biting his lip.
Ghost let his lips brush over Soap’s. “Go on,” he prompted. “Say it.”
Surprisingly, however, Soap shook his head. When Ghost leaned back to look at him again, it was to see Soap grinning. “No?”
Soap shook his head again. “Gotta do more than that, Lt.”
So he wanted to draw this out? Ghost was more than happy to oblige. He crushed his mouth to Soap’s, eliciting a moan and a shiver. “Good,” Ghost breathed. He forced Soap’s head back, pressing open-mouthed kisses down his neck as he took hold of Soap’s dick again. “We’ll see how long you can last, then.”
It was less than a minute before Soap’s breathing hitched and Ghost pulled his hand away again. A cracked sound came from deep within Soap’s chest at this. Ghost ignored it, and bit into his neck.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Soap gasped. “Fuck!”
“You obviously need to be marked as mine,” Ghost told him, licking over the fresh bite mark. “Maybe that will help.”
“Christ, please,” Soap whined, hips bucking into nothing as he desperately sought some sort of stimulation. “I-I’m so fuckin’ close, I’m— I’m right there, c’mon, Lt.”
“And you’ll stay there.” Ghost carefully dragged his fingers along the underside of Soap’s cock, picking up the stream of precome that was dripping heavily from the tip. “You know what you have to say.”
“Nngh.” Soap wriggled in Ghost’s grip.
“No?”
Soap squeezed his eyes shut. He shook his head.
Ghost chuckled, low and dark. “Good lad, Johnny.” He brought his hand up and pressed his fingers against Soap’s lips. “Clean up your mess, then.”
This order, he didn’t fight. Eager for something, anything, Soap swiftly sucked Ghost’s fingers into his mouth, moaning around them as he licked them clean, swirling his tongue around and between Ghost’s fingers far more than necessary. So Ghost left them there, and moved his other hand back down between Soap’s legs. He gave a few languid strokes with a loose grip, feeling Soap drool around his hand.
“Go on,” he purred into Soap’s ear. “You can say it.”
Obstinately, Soap shook his head again, even as he tried to fuck into Ghost’s hand.
Ghost kissed his jaw, and slid his hand down to the base of Soap’s dick, gripping tightly. “You don’t want to come?”
Soap’s eyes squeezed shut again as he whimpered. Saliva dripped over his lips.
“Stubborn,” Ghost hummed with a self-satisfied smirk. He pressed his fingers into Soap’s tongue, and slid his hand up to massage the head of Soap’s dick. “Your loss.” When Soap tensed up, he dropped his hand again.
Soap sobbed.
Ghost dragged his fingers out of his mouth, smearing spit once again over his lips, and forced his head around so he could lick his way into Soap’s mouth. He felt the hand on the back of his head shaking with its grip; the one on his bicep was sure to leave bruises at this point.
“Say it.”
Soap was shaking. “I—”
“Look at me, Johnny,” Ghost cut him off. “Look at me when you say it.”
Soap opened his eyes, glazed and unfocused. “I— I’m—” But he stopped himself, biting his lip.
Ghost kissed him again, pressing him hard into the wall and sliding his thigh back up into Soap’s crotch. “You’re so close, Johnny,” he purred. “Just say it.” Soap was trying to rut against his leg, but unable to get proper leverage. Ghost brushed his fingers in a teasing caress along his entire length; he could feel it throbbing, aching for release. “You can come as soon as you say it.”
Finally, with a full body shudder, Soap let out a tremulous gasp and cried, “I’m yours! Fuck, I’m yours, all yours, always, you have me, Simon, I’m yours!”
Ghost wrapped his hand around Soap’s cock, leaking nearly nonstop now. “And you’ll remember it this time?”
“Yes!” Soap sobbed. “Yes, fuck, yes, I belong to you, no one else, only you.”
“There you go.” He began stroking in earnest. “That’s what I want to hear.” He let Soap force him into a sloppy kiss as Soap practically wept his way to orgasm, spilling himself over Ghost’s fist and onto his thigh.
Panting, Soap brought his hands around to cradle Ghost’s face. “Fuckin’ christ, sweetheart,” he breathed.
“You going to keep flirting with the new guy?” Ghost asked, unceremoniously wiping his hand on his ruined jeans.
Soap was quiet for a moment. Then, just as Ghost knew it would, a grin spread from one side of Soap’s face to the other.
“Cheeky little fucker,” Ghost growled with a smirk, lifting Soap into his arms.
Laughing, Soap pressed into another kiss as Ghost carried him to the bed. “Still need to learn my lesson, Lt,” he cooed.
“We’ve got all afternoon,” Ghost assured him.
When Soap walked into the mess all for dinner - at least twenty minutes late - closely followed by a rather smug looking Ghost, he immediately chose the seat across from König. Naturally, Ghost sat next to him.
“Hey, König,” Soap said cheerfully.
“O-oh, ah, hallo, sergeant,” König responded hesitantly, eyes darting to the fresh bite on Soap’s neck, then to Ghost.
Ghost was sipping his drink, eyes fixed on König. But he said nothing.
“Lt and I were thinking you should join us next time,” Soap continued as if he hadn’t noticed the silent exchange, digging into his meal.
König’s eyes widened. “Join you?” he repeated.
Soap snorted, and swallowed. “Y’know, sparring ring?”
“What did you think he meant?” Ghost asked, raising an eyebrow.
König stammered his way through an explanation; Ghost could almost see the steam rising from him.
Soap was tapping his fork against his smirking lips; he shot Ghost a sideways glance. “Although,” he added to König, voice dropping as he leaned forward, “I would love some one-on-one training with you.”
Ghost grabbed Soap’s thigh under the table. “I think,” he said, fixing König with a severe stare, “I might need to show the new kid how to handle you first.”