Archive of Our Own

"Dismissed."

The word hung between them in the otherwise silent air of the briefing room. The mission wasn't terrible. Mostly observation. But it was a long one. Two weeks camped out in the cold, and a mental checklist of all the gear he'd need ticked down in Ghost's head while Price had run him down on the specifics. It was hush hush, need to know, and it seemed that no one on the task force needed to know but himself and Price. A message he was sure came from somewhere over the Captain's head.

When it seemed that Price had nothing else to add, Ghost stood, silent as ever, and gave one curt nod before turning and heading out the way he'd come. Right before the door closed, the soft snick of the latch silenced by Ghost's careful hands, he heard a deep exhale— one that probably hadn't been meant for his ears. The sound was full of something heavy, clearly weighing on Price's consciousness, and there was a soft pulse of something achingly tender behind Ghost's ribcage.

He gave but a moments pause, sucked in air full of the burden Price exhaled, and then turned on his heel and headed to his room to secure his equipment.

As far as long, top secret missions went, this one gave a surprising amount of notice. Price had called him to his office at 0900. Glancing at the clock, Ghost noted it was only 1130. He wasn't due to ship out until 0800 the next morning. His bag was packed, room more spotless than usual, and he headed out to accomplish his normal afternoon duties after he stopped in the mess to catch a meal with Gaz and Johnny.

The two sergeants were bright and spry as ever. They chattered away throughout the meal and then followed Ghost out of the mess as they discussed their respective duties for the afternoon.

"Yer gonna be fine, the recruits arenae as bad as the last batch," Soap tried to assure Gaz, but he just pulled the bill of his hat lower and grumbled at Soap for not switching with him.

"C'mon, don' be like tha'. What if we go to the range with Ghost tomorrow?" Soap offered, and Gaz perked up. Before they could get their hopes too high, Ghost cleared his throat, the two sergeants turning their attention to him. Always alert and ready to listen when Ghost had something to say.

"Won't be in the range for a while."

There was a pause, the only sound in the hall the rubber soles of their boots against the tile, and then Gaz gently elbowed Ghost in the side.

"Don't worry, Sir. We'll keep your favorite rifle company."

Ghost huffed out a soft scoff, grateful for how sharp the men around him were.

"Keep your grubby mitts off my equipment," he jibes, Soap recovering a second after Gaz and leaning himself heavily into Ghost.

"Aw c'mon, Sir. Lemme take'r fer a test run."

"Your name may be 'Soap', but if you leave gun oil smeared over 'er, there'll be consequences in the form of latrine duty. For a month. I've seen th' way you handle your guns."

An indignant, and distinctly Scottish shout of protest was heard before the three of them breached the outer doors, wandering through the courtyard toward the training grounds.

A door to the administrative building opened to their left, and Price came striding out, eyes lifting and zeroing in on Ghost before he redirected his feet and intercepted his team.

"Boys," he addressed Gaz and Soap, although those piercing eyes never left Ghost. The two sergeants excused themselves, calling out that they'd catch the other men later at dinner. Once they were out of ear shot, Ghost met Price's gaze, tilting his head the barest amount in question. He watched Price inhale, thick chest expanding, seeing resolve in his eyes.

"Additional information about your mission. My quarters. 2100."

"Yes, Captain."

Price nodded, adjusting the brim of his hat, and that was that.

Or so it seemed.

Something clenched tight in Ghost's abdomen, something dangerously close to anticipation. Price knew how methodical and prompt Ghost was. He knew he wasn't going to interrupt his night or preparation for the mission. And Ghost had a feeling that this new information wasn't intel related, but was eager to see how it pertained to his weeks away.

The rest of the day passed without much fanfare. The sergeants didn't question him any further, but he had no doubt they'd find out more information than they were cleared to know before he returned. Too smart for their own good, always.

Dinner in the mess was the usual fare, discussing the new batch of recruits that Gaz begrudgingly admitted were better than the last. Price was quiet, but his captain's hat was off, metaphorically at least, the boonie hat still perched atop his head. He listened to his men, a soft smile twitching behind his mustache at their ribbing to him and each other, eyes warm as they landed on each of them. But when they landed on Ghost, they were almost a physical weight, the anticipation building. He may not have know what he was going to walk into, but he knew he'd walk into anything for John Price.

2045 found Ghost standing at the side of his bed, unsure what to do that would take the next 15 minutes. He was about to go on a mission, he didn't have any tasks he needed to start, he'd wrapped up all of his other work around base. And now he was about to crawl out of his skin. That itch he couldn't reach, that twist in his gut had been worsening all day, the signals for excitement and anxiety crossing somewhere on their way to his brain.

Fuck it he thought to himself. He was about to be separated from John for two weeks, radio silence for almost the whole mission aside from check ins and exfil coordination. 15 extra minutes, which would really be closer to 10 once he reached Price's room, wouldn't hurt. He would take any spare moment of the captains attention- his partners attention he could get.

It wasn't new, this thing between them, and thinking back on it, Ghost couldn't remember the last time they'd been separated for more than a handful of days. They both compartmentalized for work, both knew where lines were drawn, where they could push, where they had to concede. It worked for them.

John Price brought Simon back from hell and kept him for his own. Ghost, the persona, loomed over both of them but only aided in the separation, the compartmentalization for work that they both needed to stay at the top of their field. When they were alone, then John drew Simon out, holding him in strong, war torn hands, and Simon had never known such comfort as those rough calluses.

Ghost blinked himself out of his rumination and found himself at the door of the very man that occupied what some might consider a concerning amount of his thoughts, if they could ever get him to admit to it. There were only a few that knew of their relationship, Gaz and Soap among them, and only after a great deal of trust built between the four of them. Long missions, a long way from base, and a few more things shared between them all than drinks and a spare cigarette— truths were bound to be revealed.

A hand raised, knuckles bare tonight, and three sharp raps against the door announced his arrival.

That staccato beat was etched into Price's chest, unmistakable even if anyone could knock three times. No one did it in quite the same quick cadence his boy did. Those three taps signaled who was at his door, the code for the first letter of the first name of the man he hated he was sending so far out of reach. They all had to heed to the call of duty, but that knock drowned out everything else from John Price's bustling mind the moment he heard it.

Price slid the drawer to his desk closed before he stepped smoothly over to the door, removing his hat and hanging it on the hook on the wall, and then swung the door open and greeted the man waiting with a soft smile.

"Prompt as always, Ghost."

"Early. But figured a few minutes wouldn't cause a fuss. I can wait." He stated it softly, an easy, open offer if he'd interrupted something Price needed to finish.

Price waved him off, stepping back to allow him space to enter, and Ghost stepped over the threshold before releasing a long, slow sigh. Price's smile ticked up a bit more at the corner, watching Ghost physically deflate a bit, relaxing on purpose to center himself in the moment.

"You said you had additional intel about the mission?" Ghost prompted, turning to face Price and raising a brow. Price could see the subtle shift in the balaclava.

"I said I have information. It pertains to the mission. Pertains to you going on the mission. Strictly speaking."

Price winked at Ghost, seeing the other's shoulders tick up just the barest amount. Not anxious tension, but anticipation. Price let him stew in that for a moment, stepping back over toward his desk. He turned from the stiff wooden chair and moved to the oversized leather armchair that sat beside his desk, easily falling back into the cushion and letting his body settle, legs splayed apart as those piercing eyes landed once more on Ghost, all pretense of tease gone and replaced with a simmering heat.

Ghost knew that look, loved that look, would do anything for that look, and right now, it was beckoning him closer. His feet moved of their own volition, three large strides placing him directly in front of Price, his own boots framed by those of his captain. Slowly, eyes never leaving Prices' own, Ghost lowered to his knees, hands braced on the arms of the chair, until he was sat back on his heels, Price barely taller than him when the older man sat forward.

"Couldn't let you go without a reminder or two," came the gentle rumble from Price, a hand laying softly over Ghost's sternum and waiting. Ghost leaned into it, pressing closer by fractions until Price's hand slid higher, fingers slipping under the edge of his balaclava.

"I'm all ears, Captain." It was easy for Ghost to tilt his head back, just a few centimeters, giving Price the go ahead to begin sliding the balaclava up. He took his time doing so, fingers trailing up over Ghost's throat, sliding around his jaw and over his cheek, before easing over his temple and stripping the material away from him all together. Messy blond curls spilled out, a little static from the mask making them stand out oddly in a few places, but finally Price revealed his gorgeous partner.

"Hello Simon," he murmured lowly, tone warm and tender. The barest, sweetest tinge of pink lingered on the apples of Simon's cheeks as he licked his lips.

"John," came the answer, a call and response that would only go unanswered when Simon was actually dead, not just on paper.

John dropped the mask, large hand coming back to cradle Simon's jaw. His fingers tightened, the pressure in his chest trying to express itself in any outlet it could find. Simon, beautiful and scarred, and so seemingly unbreakable just knelt before him, the grip in John's strong fingers doing nothing more than grounding him further. John dragged him in slowly by the hold on his face, their lips meeting in a solid press.

The kiss was deepened on impact, mouths parted and breath shared. John could detect mint in the aftertaste of Simon's toothpaste, and Simon licked the remnants of cigar smoke directly from John's tongue. Simon shuffled minutely closer, knees already crammed into the bottom edge of the armchair, and his hands slid from the armrests down to grip John's thick thighs. John groaned into their kiss, hand sliding from Simon's jaw to the back of his neck while his free hand caressed up and down one of Simon's forearms.

"Hate how long this op is," he admitted into the scant space between their mouths, foreheads digging together as Simon's brow wrinkled.

"Can't tell me that, John. Could deal wiv if it it were only me un'appy, but…"

The complaint was delivered with a downturn of Simon's lips, voice trailing off as Simon felt John's whiskers brush against the tender skin above his top lip. He was on the move, pressing soft kisses feathered with his mustache up along Simon's cheek, nuzzling gently against his temple before murmuring into his ear.

"Don't be like that, love. You know I hate sending you. Hate that they treat you like an errand boy. Any of those fuckin' tossers couldn't do a lick of what you do."

Simon shivered as John's voice took on a distinct edge, possession and duty warring behind the tone.

"They wouldn't know what to do with you if they had command of you for even an hour. They'd be lost, overwhelmed. Useless."

Simon leaned into that derisive tone, huffing a soft laugh as he turned to nuzzle into the hinge of John's jaw.

"But you do, s'that right?"

It was soft, a light tease, and it landed just how Simon hoped it would when John's hand tightened around the back of his neck, going from a cradle to a grip with control. He tugged Simon back just enough to be able to stare into his eyes, those dark, soulful eyes that Simon had. John could be stranded in the tundra and all he would need was a glance at those eyes to warm him through.

"Oh, I think you know the answer to that already. But lucky for you, Simon, I'm planning to make sure you've got something to remember while you're on this little errand run."

Simon felt his heart begin to thump faster, tongue swiping across his lips, watching as John's sharp eyes tracked the movement with an intensity that had Simon's hips flexing forward the barest amount. But it didn't escape John's notice, of course it didn't. The hand that had been gripping the back of his neck slid around now, fitting perfectly over Simon's throat, thumb and index finger positioned precisely over his carotid arteries as his other fingers laid greedy claim on some of his most protected and vulnerable skin.

"There he is. What a sight you make for me, Simon."

John tightened his grip the barest amount, watching as those sweet blonde lashes fluttered for a moment. A hard swallow had Simon's Adams apple bobbing under John's palm as he sat back, arm extended and still holding Simon upright by the neck.

"Wanted more time. Wanted to drag you away as soon as the brass disconnected. Wanted to have you here to myself all day. What I wouldn't give to let you use those hips and ride my fuckin' boot, just to start."

Simon sucked in a shaky breath at the growl in John's voice, hips flexing more obviously now. He didn't have to hide it, didn't have to be ashamed of what he wanted with John here. His pupils were so large in the soft light of the desk lamp, desire clear in every line in his face as John watched all that power bend to his will. Ready to jump, should he only ask.

"You'd do it too. Do it in a heartbeat, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, Sir. Anything…"

"I want to be John with you tonight, Simon. Just John. Want to make sure you remember me when your captain has to see Ghost off tomorrow."

Simon nodded, with the small amount of leverage John allowed him, throat still cradled in such a powerful hand. His knees spread a bit further apart, sliding across the tile to bump into the instep of John's boots. Ready. Willing. Eager.

"Yes, John."

Simon was sporting a sweet cherry blush now, over his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, and working it's way up his ears. John loved watching it spread, his smile softening the slightest bit.

"Come here, Simon."

John pulled him forward by the hold on his neck, leaning further back to settle against the chair as Simon followed. For all the bulky limbs Simon possessed, he was graceful in a way a man his size shouldn't be. He moved smoothly, long body unfolding so he could crawl up and over John's own legs. Feeling Simon's knees slot into the space between his thighs and the arms of the chair never failed to make John glad he'd gotten the most oversized leather chair he could get his hands on. The biggest challenge had been getting it through the door. It helped having someone as technical minded as Soap on his team. Angles and trajectories, a turn, shift, bump, and not a single chip of paint out of place.

Once Simon settled, warm and heavy in John's lap with his hands gently grasping the top of the subtle wingback design, John's own hands slid over those powerful thighs, gripping and kneading as Simon's breath breezed out of him, spine loosening and curving from it's ramrod straight posture. His hands didn't stop exploring, sliding their way up over Simon's waistband and slipping under his shirt. Warm, scarred but mostly whole skin met his fingertips, skimming up, up, up and dragging the material of the shirt with him to expose more pale skin to his greedy gaze. He would never tire of this. Of Simon trusting him to be the one stripping him bare, seeing him as he is, and loving every piece he cradled in his hands.

It didn't take long to have the shirt rucked up to Simon's neck, leaning forward to kiss and bite against the plush muscles of his pale pecs. Simon still hadn't moved his hands from the back of the chair, sinking into every touch with his eyes hooded, gazing down at every move Price made. Price just continued on, hands sliding back down Simon's sides, gripping into his ribs, squeezing into the muscles of his back. The shirt fell, obscuring Simon's view, and he finally moved. One hand came up, gripping the shirt where it was half covering Price's head, and Simon stripped it off with no fanfare. Price grinned up at him from where his lips lingered just beside one of Simon's nipples, grin a little crooked, a little sharp, eyes searing.

"Something the matter?" he questioned lightly, tongue flicking out to graze over tender skin.

"Was in my way."

"Can't have that. What else is in your way, Simon?"

Instead of answering, Simon unfolded himself from the chair, standing up at his full height, half towering over John. John loved it, eyes roving over miles of pale skin that he was intending to leave a few reminders on. Simon was already flushed lightly across his shoulders and the barest amount on his chest and neck. They hadn't exerted themselves that much yet, so John knew it was excitement.

Large hands reached down, neatly snagging the end of Price's shirt and unceremoniously stripping it from him and dropping it somewhere off to the side. His hands were on John's belt in the next moment, undoing it with deft movements and then popping his button and undoing the fly. John let him, only shifting when it aided in the removal of clothing Simon demanded. His boxer briefs went with the pants, flung lightly behind Simon, whose eyes never strayed from the man below him.

Simon could do whatever he wanted, John let him take and give as he pleased, but when Simon moved forward to lean in again, John held up a hand, pausing the larger man. He would be lying if he said it didn't go to his head, and it definitely went straight to his cock, this incredible, infamous, beast of a man, easily halting where he stood at John's simple, silent command.

"Not done yet, love. Your turn."

Simon didn't move until John lowered his hand, his perfect man. As soon as it was down, he was stripping out of his pants, the material following the same haphazardly discarded trajectory that John's pants took. Once he was done, he was back on his objective, sliding smoothly back onto John's lap with nothing between them. His hands found John's shoulders this time, and Simon leaned down, easing into a slow, exploratory kiss.

John easily let Simon lead the kiss, hands lifted as they began their journey over Simon once more. He could map every dip and divot, every scar and pockmark on his body from memory. He could outline every muscle and trace every vein in the man's cock with no issue. Simon could do the same to John, he knew it, but John had a mission for the night. His hands slid lower, fitting themselves around Simon's waist and digging back in, dragging them closer, pressing their already interested cocks together between their hips. A groan met him for his troubles and John swallowed it down in their kiss.

"A little chilly now," he remarked, watching Simon's eyes open to gaze back, fathomless and unimpressed.

"Sure there's a blanket 'round 'ere somewhere if you need it."

It earned Simon a sharp smack to one of his ass cheeks for his snark, the sound biting through the quiet of the room like a bullet fired, and Simon grit his teeth, a snarl lifting into a cheeky smirk on his lips now.

"I've got a bit different solution in mind."

"This where you finally give me that information 'bout the mission?" Simon murmured, head dipping lower to kiss and bite over John's throat. As calm and collected as he tended to present himself, Simon was as reactive as their darling Scot when someone knew what button to prod. And Price prided himself on knowing every trigger on the weapon seated firmly in his lap.

"Be a good lad and get us the lube," Price growled as he felt those teeth graze over his pulse, his cock giving a proper lurch between them. Simon didn't stop his actions, one hand simply going out to reach over and slide the desk drawer open, his hand going in blindly. They'd done this enough times, he knew very little was kept in this drawer other than what they needed on hand.

John waited, hands kneading deep into Simon's thighs now, thumbs brushing closer and closer to the wiry hair framing his gorgeous cock, and felt it the moment Simon's hands brushed over something he wasn't expecting.

"John…"

"Yes, Simon?"

"Why's there a Kevlar case with a bow on it in your desk…"

"One way to find out."

A huff against his throat, a flex of Simon's hips against his own, and the man sat up, brows pinched in his curiosity.

"You know, when giving someone a present… actually giving it to them is considered part of the nicety."

"Just open it ye smarmy fuck," John said with a laugh, Simon's grin softening his face. He turned the case around in his hands a few times, Price letting his own hands wander around to Simon's ass. He was kneading into the delicious globes when Simon finally plucked the ribbon open and set it on the top of the desk, slid the zipper around the edges, and let the two halves part to reveal two sets of rods. One side had various slender metal rods, some smooth and some beaded. The other side had a set of silicone rods of various diameters increasing along the set. John spoke up as Simon's eyes wandered and his hands gently touched each rod, exploring the textures.

"This part wasn't for the mission. Got 'em as a surprise and they came in yesterday. Know 'm shit at waitin' when I have something to give you. So they'll be here when you get back."

Simon considered them, the corner of his mouth barely tipped up in a soft smirk. His cock didn't flag, pressed hard and hot against John's own, and Simon closed the case, set it gently back in the desk, and then his hand found the bottle he'd originally been looking for.

"Didn't think you'd remember that."

"You wound me, Simon," John teased, one hand coming up to clutch over his heart for the effect. Simon simply rolled his eyes and grabbed John's wrist, slapping the bottle of lube into it.

Truthfully he hadn't expected John to remember. It had been an offhanded comment months ago when he said he'd always been curious. Leave it to that bastard to go and curate a starters dream set for Simon to test out sounding.

"Sure you don't want to move this to the bed, old man?" Simon teased, and John gave his ass a mean squeeze with the hand still on it.

"Being kind to the man that gave you a gift is usually part of the nicety, Simon," he shot back, a huffed laugh loosing itself and some of the pressure from Simon's chest. John knew how to steady him again in almost every instance, even the ones where he'd been the one to knock Simon's balance askew.

"I'm about to either be very kind to you, so maybe we skip the lecture on social cues for tonight, yeah?"

"Never liked 'em anyway," John agreed easily, still not having opened the bottle yet, but he leaned up, meeting Simon's lips in a slow kiss.

"Gonna give you something to remember, but want to feel your weight on me tonight. Selfish bastard though I may be."

Simon only nodded once, pressing back into the kiss. The desire that curled sluggishly through him was well woken up by now, the heat between their bodies melting through viscous blood and having it pump faster in his veins. He finally heard the click of the bottle cap and pressed his tongue into John's mouth, his cheeks being spread further apart and then he was met with the cool touch of lubed fingers, finding his hole as though following a homing beacon.

He started easy, swirling and spreading the lube over Simon's hole before easing just the first knuckle of a digit in and then out, pressing to the second knuckle on the next pass, and gentling his finger in the whole way on the third press. Simon focused on relaxing, clenching only once around the intruding digit before John broke their kiss to suck a trail down Simon's jaw back to his neck. He thrust a few times with one finger, sucking a bruise against the hinge of Simon's jaw before he began to add the second.

Simon's hips rocked gently back into the sensation, mouth parted softly as he huffed out a steadying breath. One hand gripped the back of the arm chair and the other found it's way to John's head, cradling him against his throat as John moved to a second mark while he worked two fingers in a slow drag in and out of Simon. After a few minutes of this and a few brushes just shy of his prostate for the angle, Simon pressed back more insistently.

"More, John… can take more…"

It was quiet and firm, his voice still level and John could never deny him. He slipped his fingers free for a moment, reapplying lube blindly behind Simon's back as he was too busy kissing and nipping his way along the underside of Simon's jaw, and then brought three to his ass, easing them in with a bit more pressure, letting Simon feel the stretch more than he did with just two.

Simon groaned deeply, the sound vibrating against John's lips as he echoed the sentiment and began a third mark, teeth worrying skin to make sure it sunk deep into the side of his neck. He set a rhythm, pressing, spreading, pulling, repeat. Simon's hips picked it up easily, rocking in time with each pull and shift, trying to get more with each move.

He yanked John back and bent his head down, pressing into an insistent kiss where he could get his teeth into the other man this time, tugging on his bottom lip and sparking a deep growl for his efforts.

"Gonna warm me up, Simon? Told you, bit cold in here."

That was as blatant a lie as there was. Their skin was hot where it pressed together, sweat gathering while Simon ground his hips forward and John's hand followed the movement. But Simon nodded none the less, lifting a bit to create space.

"You sure you're ready? Wanna sit with you, want to feel you for a while."

"Yes, fuck John. S'been bloody long enough."

John tutted, letting his fingers spread wide before easing them out of Simon's hole, reveling in the gasp it drug out of the man poised over his lap. Simon butted their foreheads together in retaliation, gritting his teeth impatiently, but he wasn't kept waiting long. John slicked his cock and then helped Simon adjust, lining up at his hole and letting gravity help Simon get the head in.

John moaned, long and low as he pressed past that tight ring of muscle, and Simon blew out a heavy breath, eyes closed now as he adjusted and then began to sink a little further. John's cock was thicker than Simon's, a girth he usually felt well into the next day. If he was going to warm him, he was sure to have a delicious ache for a while.

"That's it love, take it easy," John murmured, brushing kisses to Simon's chest, mustache leaving a wake of pink everywhere his mouth traveled as it burned pleasantly against Simon's skin. One strong hand kept a hold on Simon's hip, making sure he was balanced, and the other still coated in lube wrapped around Simon's cock, giving one languid stroke from root to tip. Intense eyes ate up the sight of Simon as his head tipped back and his lips parted, a moan shaking out of his throat as he sank another inch, rocking up to keep going.

"You warm yet?" came the deep rasp, Simon rolling his head back around and letting his pleasure hazy eyes focus on John. That dangerous, sharp smile lifted John's lips, the barest peek of teeth as he tutted.

"Still a bit cold. Wish there was somethin' to be done about that."

"You smug bastard…"

John was unrepentant and his grip tightened on Simon's hip to drag him half an inch lower, earning a grunt and a sharp tug to his hair. Simon couldn't hide the clench of his hole, the barest quake that ran through his thighs, and John dug in again, adding a twist to his wrist as he stroked Simon, the other's hips stuttering and then sinking even more over his cock. Simon was almost there, maybe an inch and a half left to take, and John crooned to him even as his grip was nearly punishing.

"Doing so well, c'mon love. Sit down for me, I'll take care of you."

Simon nodded, but then shook his head, the hand gripping John's shoulder now flexing. John paused, eyes sharpening and roving over Simon's face for any sign of distress. Simon took a deep, shuddering breath, let it out slow, and then eased upwards, finally rolling his head down to meet John's searching gaze.

"Lube. More lube."

John sighed out a relieved breath, giving a softer, reassuring squeeze to Simon's hip before he let go and reached for the bottle. He gave one last stroke to Simon's cock, making the man hiss in a breath before he freed him. John spread a generous amount of lube over his fingers and reached around behind Simon, finding where they were joined and spreading more around his cock and Simon's rim. Simon hummed, raising up another inch so only the head was left in him, and John made sure to smear enough lube to spread and then spent extra time rubbing where Simon was stretched around his girth. It was a shame he couldn't see it, but he watched Simon's face instead, the little crease between his brows and his parted lips.

"Feel good?"

Simon nodded his confirmation, taking a stabilizing breath and then he began to sink. John kept his fingers teasing around Simon's rim as the other moved, murmuring husky encouragement.

"That's it, sit for me Simon. Feel so good around me. Want you to feel all of me, gotta make sure you feel it…"

There was no way Simon couldn't feel it with how thick John's cock was spreading him, but with the extra slide of lube and John's grip returning to his hips to help with his descent, Simon sat all the way down, flush to John's lap and gasped while his eyes closed tight.

"Your cock get bigger every fuckin' time?" Simon hissed, hips shifting minutely before settling fully, the stretch making his lungs feel tight for a moment as he adjusted.

"Now you're just flatterin' me," John grunted, settling under Simon as he was fully engulfed in that tight heat. He left his sticky hand off to the side for a moment, letting Simon get comfortable before he would return to tease him, and his clean hand came up to grip Simon's chin again. Simon went easily as he was pulled down, leaning into the kiss as John licked into his mouth. It was possessive and slow, John claiming every inch of Simon's mouth with his greedy tongue as if he hadn't mapped it out a thousand times before.

John's plan had been to just have Simon cock warm him for a while, just hold him close and spend a little extra time re memorizing each others bodies. But the little shifts, the careful adjustments had John's cock twitching where he was buried in Simon. By the time they broke apart, Simon was panting, hips flexing as he felt John's cock jump in him.

"Seem plenty warm now," Simon teased, although the breathless quality ruined the nonchalance he was aiming for.

"Plenty warm… nearly hot now. Maybe I'll need to be warm later, but for now… for now I wanna see how hot you can get. Wanna see you take this cock for a ride, Simon."

There was a growl heavy with command in John's voice that had Simon bearing his teeth right back. Anyone else would see a challenge, would see a potential fight, but John knew him, knew that Simon was as eager for it as he was based on the flexing of his thighs, unable to truly sit still since he sank all the way down.

Simon adjusted, feeling the stretch of John's cock at every angle. He gripped the back of the chair in both hands again, shuffling his knees the barest amount to stabilize better, and then he gave a roll of his hips. He hissed in another breath as the stretch morphed, slithering heat up his spine when John's cock dragged over his walls in a way no one else had ever been able to, a feeling he craved more and more each day.

"That's it. Just need someone that knows how you like to be handled," John encouraged, clean hand kneading into a strong thigh while Simon began an easy pace. John didn't leave him alone for long, his lube slicked hand finding it's way back to Simon's cock. His hips jolted as John wrapped those strong fingers around his length, clenching down on the thick cock spreading him open and moaning deep in his chest. John tutted gently, pausing but not easing his grip.

"Go on, you know how to chase what you want. You know I'll give it to you."

Simon nodded his head quickly, biting harshly into his bottom lip. His hips stuttered a few times, the sensations of being so full in his ass and squeezed so tight around his cock driving him in little jolts until he could smooth out the motion. Once he did, the sight was gorgeous.

John doesn't bother wondering what he's done to deserve this. Doesn't care if he doesn't deserve this. It's his, this sight, the trust Simon shows him, the gorgeous body riding his cock and beginning to moan more freely as he adjusts more and more to the stretch. Simon is his. And he is Simon's in turn. Simon who knows how much he can push, Simon who doesn't shy away from what he wants anymore, even if he's calmer in his approach and claim of it than John could ever hope to be. John always did run a little hot, his temper wrangled with a tight leash to get him where he is, but he always knew when to unleash it, just as he always knew when to unleash Simon.

John made sure to keep his grip steady, watching as Simon fucked forward into it and then back onto his cock. His hips moved smoothly now, riding with heavy breaths panted out against John's temple where he was leaning. John kissed and let his whiskers brush over any inch of skin within reach of his mouth, his free hand moving around to grip and knead at Simon's ass so he could feel the delicious flex of the muscle there.

"That's it. Feel so good around me Simon."

"John… fuck, gimmie more. Wanna cum."

"You can. When I say so."

Simon was panting with his exertion, hips picking up speed. John watched with greedy eyes as Simon rode harder, the sound of skin slapping filling the room.

"John… John please…"

John's lips curled in a mean smile, hand tightening a fraction around Simon's cock when he fucked forward, making the other man's pace falter for just a moment.

"Bet I could wring a few out of you tonight. Bet you'd give me as many as you could, hm?"

Simon nodded hard, gritting his teeth as he chased John's hand when it pulled back and slid tight over the head of his cock.

"Come on, love. Lemme see it," John commanded, hand now stroking tight in time with Simon's thrusts, meeting him on every movement and Simon moaned loud, head thrown back as he chased the sensation for a few more thrusts, his cock throbbing in John's hold until he came across John's chest, shaking as he cried out the older man's name. His ass clamped tight around John and he grunted, jaw creaking as he grit his teeth and rode through the waves of pleasure, holding on to make sure his own night didn't end early. He had impressive stamina, but he also had an equally impressive man with a nice refractory period writhing in his lap, and he'd long since learned how to pace himself.

"Good boy, Simon, fuck that's a good lad for me. C'mon, every drop you've got," John encouraged, milking Simon's cock and prolonging his orgasm, making him jerk in the tight hold John's other hand had over his hip.

"Fuck John, fuck fuck," he grunted, eyes squeezed shut, but he never asked to stop, never reached to halt John's hand, and there was a dangerous glint in John's eye as he watched the most powerful body in the SAS bend to his will. Eventually he stopped stroking, Simon twitching in his lap as his body sagged. John brought the hand that Simon spilled over up to his mouth, licking up stray drops of cum and growling deep in his chest as he swallowed it down. His clean hand came up, gripping the back of Simon's neck and dragging him down into a filthy kiss, making Simon taste himself on John's tongue.

Simon only pulled back when John had taken all the breath in his lungs, panting against John's temple as he came down from the high of his orgasm. John was taut as a bowstring, still kissing and biting against Simon's collarbones and shoulder to pass the time. A few extra marks never hurt.

"…more…"

It was so soft John barely heard it, deep and barely breathed out against his skin.

"You ask for what you want, Simon. Louder."

The command was growled out, John's fingers itching to grip tighter, dig in deeper where he held Simon against him, sink his claws in so deep that Simon wouldn't be able to so much as breathe without his say so.

"M-… More, John. Want more."

It was spit through gritted teeth, Simon sitting a little taller as he pressed down hard, begging with his body for John to stretch him deeper. John grunted at the heat strangling his cock, Simon clenching down as he stilled. His face was flushed, the red staining down his neck and across his chest from the exertion. Simon's eyes darted to the side, flicking back fast but John clocked it in a second.

Simon had looked to the drawer containing his present. If he wanted more… well, John could give him more.

"I see. I'll give you what you need."

John's tone was cool, gravely as he took a deep breath, stroking Simon slowly as his thighs quivered. John's other hand slid up Simon's waist, gripping and digging into the muscle at his hip, fingers trying to tattoo themselves into his skin.

"Get the case for me, love."

Simon didn't hesitate, arm reaching, leaning further into John's hold as if he could make the print of his fingers stay any better than John could. He grabbed the case, unzipping it and letting the halves part between them, Price's hand only now releasing his aching cock.

"Hmm… Gonna shift things around a bit, love. Lemme help you up."

Simon opened his mouth as if to protest but Price tutted before he could make a sound.

"I'll give you what you need. Now," John paused and met Simon's glare head on with his own steely look, teeth gritted as he bit out his demand."Let. Me. Help you up."

Simon sneered but did as he was instructed after he set the case down on the desk beside them. His hips raised slowly, easing off of John's cock and they both grunted as he lifted all the way off, then carefully slid back to get to his feet. His legs had been crammed tight so he did take John's hand to steady himself and John made sure Simon was alright before sitting up a bit in the chair.

"Hang tight, then we'll get you comfortable," John reassured as he got to his own feet, leaning into Simon's space to steal a kiss.

"Was plenty comfortable," Simon shot back, rolling his eyes as John stepped past him, hand shooting out to smack against Simon's bare cheek, earning him nothing but a huff of a laugh in return.

John was quick as he cleaned up the tacky lube left on his hand and then grabbed a spare hand towel to bring it over to the desk with him. The sets were clean and sterilized, John making sure to have done so before he tied the bow around it. He hadn't expected Simon to want to jump into it tonight but couldn't hide how pleased he was, smug grin stretching his lips as he settled back into the chair once two bottles of water had been brought over as well.

Simon stepped forward to straddle John again but was stopped before his knee could hit the leather by a hot palm against his stomach. John looked up, coy as he could be. He sunk a little further, angled himself a bit in the seat, and then pointed to one of Simon's feet, then to the leather by his hip. When Simon didn't move, John patted the leather to spur him into action.

"I'll crush you, John." It seemed Simon was feeling particularly snarky tonight, a hearty eye roll joining his complaint.

"My cock's not the only big part of me, lad. Now come up here. I'm going to make sure you feel every single inch and more."

His tone was heated and laced with dark promise, and a shiver worked through Simon as he swallowed. Unsure if he was biting off more than he could chew, Simon did as instructed. With a little pivoting, John angled himself in the seat and leaned a bit into the armrest. He helped Simon get his footing, shifting so he could lean into the other armrest and also be supported by the side of the wingback. Once they'd aligned, John helped guide Simon and made sure he was stable as he crouched in position, then reapplied lube to his cock, wiped his hand, and helped guide Simon down. It was easier this time, Simon's hole already open for him, and the younger man eased all the way down and sat fully at a final tug from John.

"Fuck… definitely bigger," Simon panted, leaning back hard into the chair as the older man's hands slid from his hips up over his stomach before he cupped his pecs, kneaded, and he let out a satisfied hum.

In a show of mercy and for his flattery, John let Simon adjust for a few moments while he appreciated the sight before him. It had taken them time in their earlier days to figure out positioning with Simon being a few inches taller than John, but John was nothing if not determined to get what he wanted and take care of Simon in the process.

"Feel me now, Simon? Feel every bit, don't you."

Simon didn't need to answer, the leverage from earlier gone and his body settling onto John once the other spread his thighs further, dislodging his stance a bit and not letting him support his own weight with his hips. He definitely felt every centimeter of skin they had pressed together. One hand was gripping the arm rest and his other held on around John's shoulder, fingers digging into his skin.

"And you're about to feel more… Going to be so full of me you'll never be able to forget how it feels…"

John's voice had deepened, possessive and rough as he kissed and nipped at Simon's chest. It did something to him, every time he could get Simon into his clutches, following his lead. Never quite as easy as he did on missions. Simon had found his voice to snark back and make sure his complaints were heard. But with that, he'd also found another voice, one that could finally ask for what he wanted. One that could be heard if there was something he didn't want. John made sure that every voice Simon used was heard and respected. Minus a bit of ribbing. Neither could help themselves when they loved to press each others buttons. You'd think they were in the same specialty as MacTavish with how much they loved the concussive results every time they pushed the right one.

Simon was nodding, head tipped back and eyes gently closed as his hips twitched every few moments, hole clenched around John as he tried to stay settled. John brought the case with the sounding rods back to their view, humming as he thought about the selection before them.

"Shame you have a mission to be ready for tomorrow. I'll take care of you plenty tonight, but can't wait to find your favorite when you get back," John hummed, fingers trailing lightly over the metal sounds. He paused on the smallest beaded rod, caressing over the beads as Simon's breath hitched. Seems he was watching too. John pulled it free and set the case aside before holding it up for Simon's inspection.

"This what you wanted, love? Wanted to feel so full of me, full in places you've never been stuffed before?"

Simon moaned, his hips squirming a bit as he nodded.

"Want it… if it's from you, John, I want it."

Simon was burning up, a fine sheen of sweat over his skin as John trailed his fingers down his chest, tracing lines of muscle and scars alike. Once he reached Simon's cock, only back to about half hard since his orgasm, John teased along the sensitive skin. It jumped under the attention, bobbing up to meet John's fingers like it couldn't stand to be apart from more touch. John smirked, reaching over to grab the lube once more.

He let a fat, cold drop fall directly onto the head of Simon's cock, making the man hiss his discontent, but Simon didn't move as John dragged the tip of the sound through it. One hand held Simon's cock steady, feeling the blood rushing back to it as he worked, the other gently teasing the sound against his opening. He laid it across the head, dragging each bead to bump over Simon's hole slowly, making the other man's breath catch and hips flex, trying so hard to hold still under the new sensation. His fingers dug into John's chest where he was holding on, and John heard the leather of the arm creak under Simon's other grip.

"C'mon love, gonna help me. Your first time, gotta have you guide so we don't prod anything we shouldn't be," John encouraged. He'd done his research, made sure he was aware of the prep and risks involved. He knew Simon already researched, the man didn't do anything by halves, so he was unsurprised when a sure hand covered his own, taking the end of the sound. John easily wrapped his hand over Simon's, guiding him to tease over his hole a bit more before Simon tipped the sound upright and took a deep breath.

John stilled him for only a moment, letting go of Simon's hand to grab the lube and drizzle a few healthy dollops down the rod, watching it slide over the metal that was slowly warming from their skin. He'd have a mess to clean off his chair later, but John couldn't be arsed to care at the moment, watching the lube drizzle down onto Simon's cock head. He came back, wrapping his hand around Simon's once more as the man positioned the tip at his hole, gently letting the first few beads sink in.

He gasped, the sensation foreign and unnameable as he paused. Simon didn't dare move his hips much, but he clenched down, hearing John grunt as his hole clamped around the older man once more.

"Easy does it, love. Few more, yeah?" John encouraged, giving the barest amount of pressure to allow another two beads, then three, then four to slip into Simon. He was panting again, pale chest heaving as he paused and held there for a moment, eyes widening as his cock filled out fully again, his body not nearly as confused as his mind.

"You like this," John hummed against his skin, turning his head to kiss and suck at the side of his pec, teeth and mustache roughing up his skin once more as Simon sucked in a desperate breath.

"Filled to the brim and still need more. Still need me to fill you up in every hole, yeah?"

Simon gasped again, head rolling back as he let the next few beads slip inside of him, easing it back so four or five reappeared, and then letting them sink back down out of sight.

"Fuck John, it's… I…"

Simon was having trouble stringing his words together as John gave the barest press, encouraging more and more beads into him. Simon's body shuddered as John slipped it out and fucked it slowly back in, fucking his cock in ways Simon had never before experienced.

"Taking to it like a dream. Can do anything, can't you? Anything I ask, you'll take it and do it so beautifully," John praised, watching their hands work together to take Simon further apart.

Simon's hips began to flex again, rocking himself the smallest amount on John's cock. John groaned, his own hips answering the movement with a few flexes of their own, pressing up, up, up as deep as he could get into Simon's ass while the sound settled a little over half way in his cock.

"Christ, John…" Simon breathed out, sounding a bit strangled as his blunt fingernails dug into John's shoulder. Slowly, John stroked down and up Simon's shaft once, delighting in the stuttering gasp it elicited from him. He was proud to wear the deep red welts Simon's fingers now left, doing the motion again and listening to the litany of sounds he dragged out of Simon when he continued stroking and flexing his hips.

Simon was a big bastard and with how they were intertwined, John wasn't going to get too much leverage at the moment to fuck up into him, so he focused on the rocking motion while his hand picked up the pace. Simon's hand dropped from the rod, relinquishing control of it back to John now that they hadn't run into any unexpected reactions.

Simon felt so full, the sensations making him dizzy now that Price was rocking into his ass, fucking and stripping his cock, and biting and marking over his chest. He couldn't get a coherent word out if he tried, his throat felt constricted as he tossed his head against the back of the chair, a soft whine slipping between his teeth. There was a throbbing at the base of his spine, a curl in his gut as heat washed through him, but the sensation of the sound kept him on that edge, so close but unable to push past yet.

"Please John, gonna… fuck, gonna cum… I-I think…" Simon gritted out uncertainly, hips writhing as he tried to get his legs to cooperate so he could have a little leverage. He had a foot wedged between John's ass and the back of the chair while the other tried not to slip off as the other mans hands worked him relentlessly and all Simon could do was hold on. His arm around John tightened and his hand came down and dug into John's chest, sure to bruise right over his heart, sure to bruise right over his heart, his other gripping tight to the headrest.

John was enthralled, watching every bit of muscle twitch and writhe under his hands. He fucked the sound in and out only a few beads at a time as he stroked in the opposite direction, focused intently on his rhythm and the tightening in Simon's body. John raised the sound a few beads more this time and then stroked fast as he pressed the sound in deeper and shoved his hips up, making Simon's back arch hard as his orgasm finally crashed through him. His voice was strained as he cried out John's name, the chair creaking dangerously under the force with which Simon was holding on to the back of it.

John was panting, his own arousal burning in his veins like fire. Cum still dribbled around the sounding rod, spilling down over Simon's cock and John's hand. He moved, leaving the rod in Simon as both hands gripped under his thighs, raising him just a few inches so he could fuck up into him properly. He was pushing Simon into overstimulation, watching with dark, sharp eyes but Simon just let him, mouth parted, eyes closed, body taut as his own orgasm felt like it went on forever.

"That's it, take everything I give you. Fuck, that's it Simon, that's it."

John was panting, feeling sweat, lube, and cum drip from their bodies as he chased his release, splitting Simon in two. He finally came, burying himself deep and yanking Simon down flush against him. The only sound filling the room was that of harsh breathing and the occasional moan from Simon, one shaky hand coming down to his cock where the rod was still protruding from him, but it hovered as if he didn't know if he wanted it out yet, or was afraid to move it himself.

"You done, love?" John checked in, voice wrecked and heaving, but his lips turned soft as he kissed over the marks he'd left.

"Feel… too full." Simon panted back, hand falling to the side as John raised his own and gently grasped the end of the rod to ease it the rest of the way out. More cum came out with it and dripped from Simon's spent cock down to the blonde curls, matting into the hair there. They were both a mess, spend and drying lube mixed with the sweat from their bodies, but neither could be arsed to care at the moment. John settled back once he'd set the rod aside and gently wiped them down with the towel he'd brought over, cracking a bottle of water open and helping Simon drink a bit.

Simon's body sat lax on top of John, thighs still spread and still settled deep on his cock, but too tired to move at the moment. John seemed contented to hold him as he murmured praise into his ear, strong arms wrapped around Simon's chest and waist to hold him together after everything John put him through that night. His cock had gone soft, but the girth of it kept Simon plugged while they dozed in and out during their recovery time.

After about half an hour, Simon stirred, needing to move his legs from the splay they'd been in for so long. John helped him sit upright and get a foot planted on the ground, and that allowed Simon to be eased up, sliding off John's cock. They groaned in tandem, Simon taking a moment to get his footing before standing upright as he stretched his back out.

John took a moment, working some feeling back into his legs, chuckling as Simon slipped a quiet I told you so in before he was stepping gingerly to the bathroom.

"Respect your elders."

"Not on your life, daft git," Simon shot back immediately, grimacing as he felt cum starting to leak out of his hole.

"Insubordination at it's finest," John said, but his tone was too fond for the sarcasm to land. He stepped past Simon into the bathroom, turning on the hot water for them.

After a shower and a pat down, John inspected the marks he'd left with a grin twitching behind his mustache as Simon groused about how many there were.

"Told you. Something to remember me by."

"The gaping of my ass not enough, eh?"

"Figured I'd spoil you with both."

Simon rolled his eyes and reached for his pants. A light tsk stopped him, turning to face John as he watched his movements.

"Know that took it outta you. Could stay here tonight."

Simon shrugged, altered his course and headed for the bed, a smile kept to himself as he faced away from John. Anything to feel John a little longer. They both knew it, both wanted it.

They eventually settled in, Simon wrangling John into the little spoon position after a fair amount of bitching, but they dropped off into a deep sleep soon after.

The next morning, Simon was up, packed, and headed to the hangar to meet his ride, not expecting to see anyone but the pilot. He and John had said their goodbyes this morning.

He had not been expecting three extra bodies outside the helo, chatting with Nik.

"Top secret sure don't mean what it used to."

The four men turned to regard him, Price rolling his eyes, Nik booming a laugh, Gaz looking sheepish, and Soap looking all too proud of himself.

"Don' know what yer talkin about, Lt. Just out fer a run wi' Gaz this mornin' and saw Price and Nik chattin'. Figured we'd come say hello."

"Hate to cut your social call short, but Nik's got somewhere to be."

"Da, da. We will be on time. Do not worry so much," Nik waved him off, but shook Price's hand firmly and then headed to get the helo going.

"See ye when ye get back, Lt," Soap said, grin still blinding as he reached out, a quick fist bump and an elbow tap before he headed away from the airstrip, whistling something that sounded distinctly Scottish.

"I'll make sure he doesn't get his hands on your rifle, Sir," Gaz said, giving his shoulder a squeeze as Soap rounded on them, indignant. Gaz took off at a sprint, laughing brightly as Soap scrambled to chase after him, shouting obscenities.

Ghost turned, seeing Price chuckle, the sound lost to the blades kicking up on his ride. They stepped closer, toe to toe, and Price gently bumped his forehead to the skull mask, smile soft and private while there were no eyes directly on them.

"See you soon," Ghost said, loud enough to be heard before they stepped apart, Price nodding as he pulled a cigar out of his pocket. He wandered out of range, smoke already curling around his head as Ghost loaded onto the helo.

It was going to be a long two weeks, Ghost thought to himself as he shifted in his seat, adjusting for the ache thrumming through his ass. Be that as it may, he certainly had plenty to return to, and he smiled to himself at the thought while Nik lifted off.