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Alpha Soap who is so damn cocksure of himself as he hits on omega Ghost at any and every chance he gets. Who can blame him? TF141's lieutenant is a fucking knockout who is proud of his dynamic, giving anyone hell for suggesting otherwise.
Some alphas can't handle an omega like that, but Ghost makes his knot /ache/ just by being in the same room. What he wouldn't give to sink his teeth into Ghost's bonding gland as he ties him, filling him with seed as the omega whines all pretty and strung out on his cock.
Soap can't help his thoughts turning to that as he sits up on the weight bench in the gym, taking a break to watch Ghost with the recruits.
Hand to hand combat training shouldn't be this fucking sexy, but Soap is mesmerized as Ghost slams another alpha down onto the mats hard.
The recruit's body bounces slightly before Ghost straddles him, twisting an arm back until the alpha is forced to tap out.
He wants that to be him.
Gods, just watching Ghost's back muscles move under his t-shirt is arousing, material stretched tight across his shoulders.
Too fucking sexy.
The omega barks orders at his group before turning, locking eyes with Soap, "MacTavish, ring. Now." It's an order, not that Soap would ever dream of denying Ghost anything.
Getting up quickly, he ducks between the ropes and wait for instructions.
"Live demo of real combat where they're armed, you're not." Ghost tosses Soap a dummy knife, rolling his shoulders and neck before lowering his stance. He looks like a predator and /fuck/ now is not the time to be getting a boner. "Do your best to kill me."
Soap respects Ghost far too much to go in with anything less than full effort, the alpha darting forward with every intention of taking Ghost down. He's no slouch, he knows what he's doing, but that doesn't stop him from hitting the mats in under 30 seconds, knife to his throat.
Hands coming up, "I yield." Looking up at Ghost like this is a damn nice view, Soap cocking a grin. "But you didn't have to kick my ass to get on top of me."
Oh fuck. He shouldn't have said that.
The recruits all go dead silent, Ghost's eyes locked on his.
Soap's life flashes before his eyes as he lays there, utterly defenseless.
"Recruits, take 5 laps." Ghost's voice is steady and hard to read, the gym clearing out in record time.
The door slams shut, might as well be the coffin lid Soap will be buried in. He's done for.
Ghost's hand closes in the front of Soap's shirt, yanking him up so they're face to face, er, face to mask. "You've got a hell of a mouth on you, Johnny. What am I to do with you?"
Soap's survival instincts finally kick in and he keeps his mouth shut for once.
"No suggestions? Shame. I'll just have to get creative with my punishment, won't I?" What he wouldn't give to be able to see more of Ghost's face right now. He can't fucking tell what he's thinking.
"I'll be good." Soap breathes, pupils blown wide with lust he can't control.
"Will you?" Ghost's head tilts slightly to the side, grip loosening in Soap's shirt slightly, less threatening. "Strutting around base like a knothead in rut, thinking I can't smell you every second of every god damn day?"
His cock twitches, precum wetting his boxers. Fuck.
Ghost notices and tuts, shaking his head mockingly. "Can't even control yourself now, can you? Pathetic."
He doesn't have a humiliation kink or, at least, he didn't have one until this exact second. "Sorry, sir, you just smell so good. Drives me crazy."
"And you've decided to make it my problem." Soap gets hit with the intense mental image of being stripped naked, made to rub himself against Ghost's boot, cock warming while the omega does paperwork. "What do you want, Johnny?"
"To... mount you, sir." Should he admit to that?
Ghost chuckles, the sound is low and rich, so deep that it vibrates through Soap's chest. "If anyone's doing the mounting, it's me. Got a problem with that?"
Soap's eyes go wide as he realizes what that means, that Ghost wants to fuck /him/.
All thought leaves his head, mouth slightly open with words he's forgotten how to say. It earns him another of those soft laughs from Ghost, who pats his shoulder and gets up. Soap watches him leave, cock painfully hard and poking out of the top of his shorts.
"Coming, MacTavish? Or do we have to worry about the recruits catching you crying on my cock in here?"
"Coming, sir!" Soap scrambles after Ghost, not willing to miss his chance because he didn't show the appropriate enthusiasm.