Chapter Text
The first time he came back from mandatory leave while serving with the 141, his sister had filled his bag to the brim with bottles of hair products, adding a good fifteen pounds to the damn thing. Of course, in reality, that was nothing for an SAS operative in their prime, but he needed something to gripe and complain about to his family the next time they called him. He hadn’t wanted to bring much back, their assigned rooms in the barracks weren’t that spacious as it was, but the moment he took off his hat and his sister saw the mess his flattened curls had made on his head she put on quite the show. There were gasps of horror, disappointed head shakes, quivering hands moving to brush at the damaged hair, he swore he even saw a tear fall at one point. All in all, it was what his sister made best, a scene.
“Grace, come on-”
“Our mum gave us her beautiful, voluminous curls and this is how you treat them??”
“That’s not fai-”
“I can’t believe it! My own brother!”
She had thrown herself across the length of the couch, an arm over her eyes and a devastated furrow in her brow. Gaz rolled his eyes and huffed, no longer interested in defending his lack of commitment to haircare in the military. His mum was sitting on the loveseat, a smile hidden in her mug of tea.
“What’s all this commotion in here?” His father’s voice trailed into the room as his large frame filled the doorway. His confusion only added to his mother’s amusement and she let out a giggle.
“Just Kyle abusing his beautiful hair that you gave him Pa.”
“I thought you said Mum gave me this hair?”
“She did, you’re insulting them both,” she sniffed and he threw his hands into the air.
“Well sorry there isn’t an abundance of criminally expensive hair care products available when I’m tracking terrorists around the world Grace!”
He shouldn’t have said anything, better yet, he should have kept his damn hat on. He normally kept his hair short to avoid the exact problem his sister was complaining about. On that particular visit, it had gotten an inch or two longer than he liked. Sure maybe it was missing the definition and coils that the rest of his family had but he felt like he had valid reasoning for that.
The weight in his bag as he lugged it on base, into his room, and finally under his bed told him otherwise.
It took him a month to actually remember the products were down there. Remember being a generous word when in actuality, it was his sister facetiming him to check if he was using them that forced him into action.
That first shower, using the shampoo, conditioner, hair mask, and leave-in products had felt slightly like overkill. When he complained about his arms being tired he was given the exasperated response that he wasn’t supposed to follow every step every day.
“Obviously Kyle.”
It hadn’t felt too obvious to him. But to make her happy(and off of his back) he continued. Almost a year later and he’d earned her approval, hair less flat and crispy and a bit more coiled and shiny. What he didn’t anticipate however was how much his boys would like it too.
-
Soap was the first one who’d taken a distinct shine to his hair and the fragrance that came with the products. The shampoo was a rich, warm, almost spicy scent that clung to his curls and was joined with a matching oil. He’d been wearing it on a day when Soap had asked him to join him for a spar down in the gym and he’d been happy to agree. Before their relationship had evolved into what it was currently, sparring with Soap had seemingly been their way of flirting without saying a word. Heated looks, pins down on the mat that they both let last a touch longer than necessary, the competitive and teasing banter, and the showers they shared afterwards left him frustrated for months wondering if he was the only one who was feeling the tension. After they’d all started dating the sparring was still heated between the two, but it had evolved from secret flirting to their own subtle form of foreplay. The number of times they’d crashed into one of their beds, still dripping from the showers, was nearly proportional to the number of times they’d sparred now. Of course you could count on a guy like Soap to get turned on by fighting, Gaz’s own arousal spurred on by the energetic Scot. Don’t even get him started on when Ghost joined to watch the fight.
That particular day, it was only the two of them. Gaz had won four out of their five rounds and he was slightly concerned at how distracted Soap seemed to be. Not that it was unusual for him to win, but it usually came with a lot more shit talking and redoubled efforts to win from Soap.
“You alright mate?”
He pressed a hand to Soap’s shoulder as the other man stood near the wall drinking water. He received a nod in response.
“Aye, ‘m all good Gaz,” he grinned and Gaz scanned his face. He didn’t seem to be troubled by anything.
“You’d tell me if you weren’t right?”
At this Soap actually looked a touch confused. He lifted Gaz’s hand from his shoulder and lifted it to his face so it would cradle his cheek and pressed a kiss to the soft skin of his inner wrist.
“O’course, why? What’s wrong?”
Gaz smiled at the affection and shook his head. His words were laced with endearment as he responded.
“Nothin’ you’re just not usually this shit at fighting.”
Soap broke into a grin before sucking his teeth and dropping Gaz’s hand.
“Awa' n bile yer heid!” he spoke but the words had no bite to them accompanied with that bright smile and Gaz couldn’t help but return it with an obnoxious one of his own.
“Hey! Just being honest. I’m trying to help you babe.”
“You can help me by fuckin’ off after I win the next round.”
“I’d like to see it.”
And see it he did.
Something about a bit of friendly shit-talking always seemed to get Soap fired up and he returned Gaz’s hits with careful dodges and hits of his own that were definitely lacking before. This was what he loved and watching the way Soap ate him up with fire in his eyes sent shivers down his spine. Finally after a fairly equal fight he found himself pinned under Soap, the weight of the shorter man’s body pinning him down to the mat below. He could feel Soap’s own arousal pressed against his own and couldn’t even bring himself to feel embarrassed. Not when they were both feeling this way. He was ready to yield until he realized Soap hadn’t moved, face buried into his hair and inhaling deeply.
“ Fuck, ah knew it was you.”
“W-what?”
Soap took another deep breath and Gaz could feel his hips press down just the slightest amount, a gasp escaping from his lips.
“You smell so good… Feel like I’m off ma heid just breathin’ you in, fuck.”
“Soap?”
“ Gaz.” The way he said his name went straight to his cock and he had to stop himself from moaning and begging Soap to fuck right there in the sparring room.
“Let’s get to the showers and head back to-’
“No.”
Gaz shot him a confused look which Soap saw as he finally lifted his head and he could feel it falter. If he thought the way Soap was watching him during their spar was exhilarating this was a million times more intense. Gaz felt like he was about to be devoured.
“You’ll wash it away. I want to have you exactly the way you smell right now,” he spoke with a rasp and Gaz nodded in surprise,
“Oh, okay?”
“Is this…okay? Am I making you uncomfortable?”
He began to pull away and Gaz stopped him with his hands on his shoulders.
“No! I just…didn’t realize you’d like my shampoo so much. It’s…really cute, if I’m being honest,” he said while looking to the side. When he turned to look at Soap he saw a blush creeping up the other man’s cheeks that matched his own. He felt giddy as they scrambled up and nearly sprinted to Soap’s room.
When the door slammed shut behind them they wasted no time, lips connecting in a searing kiss, the building tension of their spar finally overflowing. They kissed like overeager teens, a bit too rough, a bit too wet, and completely perfect in their eyes. Even here they found themselves in competition with each other both trying to get the upper hand in something as simple as a kiss as if that was something that could be won. It wasn’t, but something about the fight made it that much better. Gaz “won” that round, a tug to Soap’s mohawk making the other man grip his shoulders and moan while Gaz took the opportunity to tug on his bottom lip as he pulled back. One last lick to sooth the bite had Soap practically keening and he let out a needy sort of whine when they pulled apart.
“Gaz, please…”
“Yeah love? Please what?”
He was just as breathless as he worked to pull off his t-shirt and toe off his shoes. Soap was watching him, taking in every inch of skin that he revealed. The way he watched made Gaz feel like he was putting on a show rather than just taking off his clothes.
“Fuck, I need you in my bed. Now. ”
He wouldn’t argue with that and by the time he sat down on the mattress and began scooting back, Soap was already naked and climbing over him.
“These need to go,” he said, tugging at the shorts Gaz was still wearing and before he had a chance to shimmy out of them, Soap had tossed them halfway across the room.
“Jesus christ Soap, do I really smell that good? Like a bloody cat with catnip,” he laughed while the eager man climbed into his lap and pressed their torsos together. Soap was pressing kisses up his neck, small nips and suckles trailing up to the spot under his ear that always made him giggle. Then, once again, Soap was breathing him in deep and he could hear a soft moan leave his lips.
“Yes, I dinnae ken how to describe it but, bleedin’ jesus it’s good. Ah kept gettin’ little whiffs now an’ then, but up close…” he was panting now, grinding up against Gaz, their hard cocks sliding each other in a way that wasn’t nearly enough.
“Can I touch you?” Gaz asked, too horny to function after the way Soap was unraveled above him. Soap nodded eagerly.
“Please.”
And with that he snaked a hand behind the other man’s neck, pulling him down to kiss him once more. The aggression was gone, leaving only a sweet press of their lips while Gaz’s hands mapped out the skin of Soap’s body. A body he’d mapped out dozens of times before but would never get enough of feeling pressed against his. He savored each gasp, every nibble on his lips when he touched one of the spots that he knew were sensitive. Finally, he broke away and got to work with his lips instead.
“Fuck, Gaz.”
He let out a hum as he sucked a hickey onto Soap’s tan skin.
“I love when ye take care of me like this.”
He pulled back and looked up at Soap’s face, adoration shining through like a beacon and he knew without a doubt it was mirrored on his own face.
“Getting sappy on me Sergeant?”
His voice was light, the teasing at a minimum and the love woven into the words. Soap snorted and rolled his eyes.
“Never, now are you gonna touch me or no?”
“Alright, alright! So impatient,” Gaz whined as he reached towards the bedside table for the lube he knew Soap kept in the top drawer. Cap off, lube warmed in his palm, he finally snaked an arm around Soap’s waist while the other hand wrapped around his neglected cock.
In an instant, Soap’s back was arching, chest pressing closer and he let out a shaky moan. Clearly he’d been riled up for a while if just a touch was breaking him apart like this. Not like he was much better, his own dick twitching at just the sound of him touching Soap. The slick sound of his lubed hand sliding over the other one as he set a steady pace was like music to his ears as it mixed with the desperate noises Soap was letting out. He leaned forward to lick and nip at the skin available to him with Soap still in his lap.
“ Kyle !” he’d bitten down on one of Soap’s sensitive nipples, his free hand squeezed and kneaded at the other free side of his chest. Licking over the abused nipple in apology he moved his head to give the other a similar treatment.
“K-kyle, wait,” Soap’s voice was breathless and Gaz pulled off with a slight pop to look at him. His cheeks were pink, a stunning blush that trailed down his chest. The purple and red of the hickeys he left complimented his pink skin so perfectly.
“Together…I want to cum feeling you against me,” he said with a grin and Gaz’s hips twitched in response. He nodded and without another word, lubed up his hand once more before reaching between them and grabbing their hard cocks in one hand and resuming his steady strokes. They both groaned, Soap’s head falling back in pleasure at the feeling of hot, sensitive skin pressed against each other.
“Perfect, you feel so perfect,” Gaz panted.
And he knew they wouldn’t last much longer like this, not after the way they had worked each other up. Soap leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Gaz’s shoulders, nose finding its way to his hair once more. When Soap inhaled, the rich smell of Gaz filled his senses. The sweat from their spar, mixed with the sweet scent of his shampoo that made him want to eat him whole was intoxicating. He bucked his hips forward and the slide had him jolting. Taking in Gaz’s scent quickly brought him to the edge and he could feel that familiar tension building in his stomach.
“Gaz, I’m-”
“Me too Johnny, I want to cum with you.”
His words, his smell, the feeling of his cock sliding against his own while his hand worked over them, everything about Gaz had him violently tipping over the edge and he came with a shout. Gaz didn’t slow his hand, orgasm washing over him at the sight and feeling of Soap cumming in his lap.
Soap slumped forward against his chest and Gaz wrapped his arms around him in response, avoiding touching him with his, now dirty, hand. He laid them down and they took a moment, catching their breaths and basking in the post orgasm glow.
Soap was the first one to break the silence, because of course he was.
“Don’t know if I’ll ever be able to smell your shampoo without gettin’ hard now…”
- -
Several hours later Ghost found them on the rec room couch with a movie he didn’t recognize playing on the television. He quirked a brow; it was tough to get Soap to sit through a movie without getting antsy. He rounded the couch to see a jar of curl cream sitting on the table and Gaz sitting between Soap’s legs as the other fiddled with his hair. Gaz’s eyes were closed, a relaxed look on his face, while Soap glanced between the screen and the movements of his fingers in Gaz’s hair.
“What’s all this then?”
Soap turned to him, slight surprise on his face before it broke into a smile.
“Gaz’s letting me do his hair for him. He taught me how to finger curl it so he has those cute springs in it tomorrow.”
Below him, Gaz let out a giggle and met Ghost’s gaze with a smile of his own.
“Turns out, having something to fiddle with during the movie helps him stay put through it.”
“Still cannae believe you can’t eat this stuff. It smells too good…”
Gaz heard Ghost snort as he let out a fond sigh. Maybe he would consider thanking Grace for her advice after all.