Archive of Our Own ^beta

Ghost’s virginity is frankly nobody’s fucking business. His entire personal life is nobody’s fucking business and that attitude has served him fantastically up until now, don’t get attached, don’t get more than superficial, and it won’t ever be an issue. 

It’s not like it’s intentional, his being thirty five and thoroughly unfucked, it just sort of happened. 

He’d been pretransition, and not wanted anyone near his body, and by the time he’d had the body he wanted, he simply didn’t want anyone near him full stop. By the time he’d got through the worst of his self isolation and finally moved on from his past he was thirty and a virgin and simply had no idea how to go about having that conversation with a potential partner, and hadn’t wanted anyone enough for it to be worth it.

The problem was, five years on, and he still didn’t have any experience but he very much did have someone he thought would be worth it, if he could ever get over himself enough to go for it. He’s not stupid, he’s been wanted before, and he knows exactly how Soap looks at him.

There’s two very important conversations to have with Soap before they get to that point though, there’s the ‘I’m a thirty five year old total virgin who’s never even been kissed’ conversation and there’s also the shorter but more risky ‘I have a cunt’ conversation.

Ghost’s enough of a coward not to want to have either, though he does intend to, really he does, because he wants this with Soap so badly. Needs him desperately, ardently, and he’s starting to worry he’s developing carpal tunnel from how often he’s getting himself off about it.

The thing is that them finally getting together happens unexpectedly, spur of the moment, and Ghost only gets round to one of those things.

It’s late, Soap staying up in Ghost’s room to keep him company while he fixes the mask, the hardshell got a crack in it and Ghost doesn’t have the materials to make a new one right now, and his spare is at his flat in London gathering dust.

He’s dressed down, no gloves, no body armour, just soft sweats and a soft jumper, his favourite threadbare balaclava that has worn through at the tip of one of his ears leaving it just a little chilly.

Soap’s eyes haven’t left his hands the whole time he’s been working, have been greedily tracing his scars and his veins, have tracked every movement of his fingers, seems surprised that they’re so nimble for ones built so thick, bumps on his knuckles from multiple breaks.

“Ghost?” Soap’s whispering, the thick blanket of semi-darkness, heavy shadows cast by dim lamplight, seems to be making him brave. Braver.

“Hm?” Ghost hums, eyes not leaving where he smooths his thumb along the repaired crack, seamless and even and neat, satisfaction of a job well done roiling through his gut and dulling his senses, leaving him guileless, woefully unprepared for what’s coming.

“Ghost, will you look at me?” Ghost looks at him, finds him far closer than he’s expecting, just inches between them, which feel like miles and millimetres at the same time.

“I see you.” He says, dumbly, and sees the way it has Soap’s eyes creasing at the corners, soft and tender and just a little old before his years.

“Yeah, you do. Always have, actually.” Soap whispers, still so tender, so much gentleness that it’s smothering where it isn’t soothing. Ghost wants to crawl away and he wants to crawl closer, hide his face and never look away. 

He wants to feel all the contradictions that make up Soap MacTavish.

“Johnny?” He asks, and Soap answers, like always, and nothing like always.

“Simon.” 

Soap blinks first, eyes darting down and away and skittering back up again, locking back with Ghost’s with more intensity than he thought was possible. His gaze holds all the cliches; storms, oceans, skies and rain, but he’s also just Johnny.

Just Soap, and Ghost is so fucking terrified but so fucking ready.

“Simon, what exactly is it that we’re waiting for?” Oh. Oh, Soap’s been waiting for him, all this time. 

“I’m not-” Ghost cuts himself off, takes a moment to decide how to go about this, and as always decides to plough on as bluntly as possible. “I’m a virgin.” 

Soap, to his credit, doesn’t react more than some fluttered blinking, a brief silence while he processes.

“Ye dinnae strike me as the waiting for marriage type, so…” He trails off, leaves an opening for Ghost to fill or let hang as he wishes. In for a penny-

“I’m not, it just, never came up.”

“Sex…never came up?” Soap’s eyes are dark, but he seems to be genuinely trying to understand what he’s hearing.

“No.” 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.” Soap smiles, just a wry up tick of the corner of his mouth “Okay, well this is it coming up, I suppose.”

“Yeah.”

“Look-” Soap seems to take Ghost's lack of real response for nerves, rather than the mind blanking arousal it is “I’m not suggesting we tumble into bed right this second-” Ghost opens his mouth and Soap waves him off “well I’m not anymore .” 

Ghost can feel arousal and embarrassment warring inside him and he knows if Soap looks the exposed tip of his ear will be bright red. Like he can read his mind Soap’s thumb comes up to trace over the hole, brushing over the skin and setting Ghost’s nerves alight. 

“Why don’t we start with a kiss?” Soap asks, and Ghost realises he’s not actually said a word about how he feels about any of this. Apparently he’s just that much of a sure thing. It shouldn’t be surprising, there’s nobody left in the world who knows him the way Soap does.

“I’ve never done that before, either.” Ghost murmurs, and sees the shiver that wracks Soap’s body, the way his pulse quickens in his throat. Little shit clearly loves the idea of having Ghost all to himself, being the only one who’s ever had any part of his body.

Honestly, Ghost kind of does too, is desperate to have Soap’s hands on him, to have those be the only hands that ever touch him that way, Soap’s lips and hands and mouth and cock and whatever else he wants to give him. 

Ghost wants him to teach him and take him, mould him into whatever it is that Soap wants, have Ghost be untainted by anyone else’s desires so he can be perfect for Soap, made for him and only him. If he’s very lucky, he just might get exactly what he wants.

“Please?” Soap asks, and it’s the easiest question Ghost has ever been asked in his life, he nods, helpless to do otherwise, and let his eyes flutter shut as Soap moves closer, a hand settles feather-light on his chin, reels him in.

He can feel the heat of Soap’s breath washing over him, and then pressure, lips pressing to his over wool, the pressure moving, changing, and then easing back. Ghost is already addicted, needs more, needs everything Soap can give him.

He takes Soap’s wrist and slides his hand from his chin to the neck of the balaclava, doesn’t let go even as Soap hooks the edge and peels it up, up, off. His hair is a mess, he knows, and he has stubble, got lazy about shaving this morning.

Soap’s seen him without his mask plenty of times before but his face now is just the same as it was the first time, and every time since; enchanted. “Always a sight for sore eyes, bonnie as anythin’.” Ghost is just glad he didn’t bother with eyeblack this morning.

Soap goes to pull his hand away, take the mask with it, but Ghost still has his wrist and he reels it in, presses a kiss to Soap’s fingers, to the back of his hand; turns his grip so he can press another directly over Soap’s pulse point.

Soap’s free hand comes up, rests on the side of his face, thumb in front of his ear and the rest of his fingers curling gently around into his hair. He pulls down with the other, bringing Ghost’s hand down with it and moving the barrier between their mouths.

The first touch of Soap’s lips against his is both nothing and everything like Ghost had imagined. 

It’s simple, warm and dry and chaste but it lights every nerve in Ghost’s body aflame, heat roaring through him even as he has no desire to alter the tenderness of this moment.

His first real kiss. Their first real kiss. Desire and need and everything in between. He presses closer and Soap lets him, guides him as their lips separate and come together again, stubble scraping against skin as Soap turns his head.

With the change in angle Soap parts his lips a little more, kiss a little wetter as they come together, Ghost mimics him and can’t help a low grunt at how inexplicably good it feels, just to feel the way their skin clings for just a moment as they pull apart.

It sounds slicker now too, the light smack of lips with each kiss as Soap guides him on. 

Ghost shifts, tries to press even closer over the table and Soap huffs a laugh at him, sniggers at the way Ghost is trying to climb nearer and close the last distance between them.

Soap opens his mouth a little further on the next one, runs the tip of his tongue along the seam of Ghost’s lips and surprises a gasp from him. He opens up, like he knows Soap wants, and Soap presses the advantage, kisses sloppier, tongue snatching tastes of Ghost’s mouth.

Ghost tries the same, teases Soap’s tongue with his and is rewarded with a high whine, needy and guttural like Soap hadn’t meant to make it, like maybe Ghost is having an effect on him too. He sucks on Soap’s tongue and feels Soap nod against him, press even closer.

“Come on, love, experiment just like that, try out whatever ye like.” Soap mutters into Ghost’s mouth, and he does, he keeps kissing but he tries everything that occurs to him, works out what works for him, what works for Soap, what really, really doesn’t work at all.

It’s fun, in a way it had never occurred to him intimacy might be, light and playful and so unbelievably, achingly good. Pleasure ratcheting through every part of his body, stemming from every place Soap is touching him.

“Ah-” He gasps as Soap nips hard on his lower lip, pulls back to run his own tongue over it but can’t stop grinning at how good it had felt under the shock. His whole face is tingling, lips sore and chin scraped by stubble. 

It’s the best he’s ever felt.

“Want tae move this somewhere more comfortable?” Soap asks into the space between them, nods at the ratty sofa Ghost has shoved into the corner of his room.

“Only if you take your shirt off.” Ghost answers, but he’s already walking over to the couch.

Soap quirks an eyebrow but does as he’s told, yanks his top over his head and chucks it over his shoulder, flexes just a little for Ghost’s benefit as he throws himself down onto the sofa. He looks like every dream Ghost’s ever had that ended in him wet and achingly empty.

Bronzed skin and whorls of dark hair, strong muscle and every inch of him lethal. Soap pats his lap, gazes up at Ghost with a dopey grin, like he can’t quite believe his luck, which is insane because any idiot could see that Ghost is the lucky one here.

“I’ll squash you.” Ghost snorts, well aware that for all Soap’s muscle Ghost is still larger, considerably so.

“Bold of ye to assume I wouldn’t enjoy that.” Ghost rolls his eyes, but slings his leg over to straddle Soap’s lap anyway, presses their lips together and lets his hands wander. He wasn’t prepared, it turns out, for how good all that bare skin would feel under his palms.

It seems like miles of warmth for him to explore, fingers roaming over Soap’s body, calluses catching against hair and scraping over Soap’s nipples until he gasps into Ghost’s mouth. Soap gives out heat like a furnace, and Ghost has always run cold, he feels greedy for the way the heat transfers across, heating Ghost’s body from the outside in. He digs his thumb into the bullet scar over Soap’s shoulder when he finds it, prompts another nasty nip this time to the chin.

“Christ, anyone ever tell ye how annoying it is that yer so good at everything?” 

“Hm?”

“Yer a fucking natural at this, sir, that’s for sure.” Fuck, there it is, verbal confirmation that he’s doing well, making Soap feel good, making him happy. 

The knowledge goes right to Ghost’s brain, bypassing all other systems, and has him dropping down to be properly seated in Soap’s lap, weight landing squarely on his crotch as both of their hips writhe together automatically.

Soap’s hands tentatively drop to Ghost’s arse and squeeze, pause there to wait for Ghost’s nod before they do it again, using his hold to roll his hips forward and down. Soap is rock hard in his jeans, Ghost can feel the hard line of his cock grinding against his t-dick.

He yanks his shirt over his head, leans in to rub their chests together, has both of them groaning at the contact, so fucking good as one of his nipples catches on one of Soap’s, his scars rubbing against Soap’s chest hair creating more sensation than he thought possible.

Their mouths never part but their kisses are getting sloppier, messier, and Ghost loves it, loves how out of control he can feel Soap getting below him, loves how out of control he’s becoming  himself, wild and needy, rabid with desire.

“If ye want tae stop, love, it’s going to have to be now.” Soap pants into his mouth, chest heaving as he continues to kiss Ghost between words.

“Why the fuck would I want to stop?” Ghost grunts, keeps kissing.

“I just, uh-” Ghost scrapes teeth over Soap’s pulse point “I just wasn’t sure you were ready for anything more. Ye don’t seem that ready.” and there’s some sort of emphasis there that Ghost doesn’t understand. 

“I’ve been fucking ready, please, don’t want to stop.” Soap strokes a soothing hand up his spine, moves back in to kiss him again and quiet his begging. 

“Alright, alright let’s get you more interested, yeah?” and Ghost honestly really doesn’t have any idea what Soap is talking about, only cares that he seems so earnest and is still kissing him.

He finally gets it too late.

Soap has already slipped a hand beneath his waistband, and Ghost yelps out “Fuck, wait-” at the same time as Soap’s hand slides down expecting to find a cock, and finds a cunt instead.

They both freeze, Soap’s hand is cupping Ghost fully and he knows Soap’s hand must be drenched, feels his mortification grow as he feels himself drip into Soap’s palm. Soap’s eyes are dark, a small crease between his eyebrows like he’s trying to process what the fuck is going on.

Soap eases his hand back out and Ghost cringes, prepares to climb off Soap and run away, preferably to another country, but Soap’s hand keeps going, creeps up until it’s hovering between them, fingers shiny with so much slick there’s a drop running down his wrist.

Soap’s tongue darts out to catch it, slides wide and filthy up, up until he can circle it over his fingers. Slides them fully into his mouth and sucks, eyes rolling back into his head and a reedy groan falling from his throat as he swallows.

He makes a show of cleaning his hand, every trace of slick replaced with Soap’s spit and his eager tongue, until there’s none left. His grin looks drunk, lopsided, and his eyes are a little glazed over as he looks back at Ghost, opens his mouth.

“You’re trans.”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” and for some fucking reason Soap is smiling, wide and bright as moonlight. “Thank fuck for that.”

“What?”

“Ghost I’ve spent the last half hour thinking you weren’t hard, and maybe I wasn’t making you feel good, turns out I’ve clearly done a bang up job.” Soap emphasises this by reaching down again to cup Ghost’s pussy, through his sweats this time.

Slick soaks into the fabric and he knows Soap can feel how wet the trackies already are, he shifts a little, nerves making him fidgety, but all it achieves is grinding his dick into the heel of Soap’s hand so hard his eyes flutter closed.

When they open again Soap looks like the cat who got the cream, vicious grin plastered across his face. He moves his hand again, slowly and deliberately, grinds his wrist against Ghost’s cock until his mouth drops open and he’s panting hard.

“No one’s ever touched you like this?”

“I have, obviously.” Soap rolls his eyes.

“No one else .” 

“Just you.” Ghost whines as Soap rewards him by rubbing, his whole hand grinding across him through the material.

“No one else is ever going to, either, hope ye know that?”

“Was counting on it. Kind of wish you’d get on and do it properly though.” Soap punishes him by pulling away completely, leaving Ghost gasping and needy. He grinds his hips forward, sinking down so he can rub along the thick line of Soap’s cock.

“You want me to touch ye? Got tae ask me nice.” Soap’s hand traces up Ghost’s body, thumb running along the faded scar under Ghost’s pec. He got lucky, they’re two of his palest scars, and his body is littered with so many others they fade into the background.

He’s also got a lot of muscle in his chest, pecs broad and heavy “Fuckin love yer tits.” Soap mumbles, apparently distracted from teasing by his need to wrap his mouth around one of Ghost’s nipples, burying his face into Ghost’s chest.

“Soap, ah bastard, please touch me.” Soap bites his nipple instead, Ghost is so wet he swears he’s dripping through his trackies now.

“I am touching you.” 

“Get your hand on my cunt before I change my mind about washing thirty five years of celibacy down the drain.”

“Tetchy.” Soap mumbles from where he’s nuzzling between Ghost’s pecs.

“I’d be less tetchy if you were more touchy ahhhh -” Ghost trails off as Soap slips a hand under his waistband and between his legs, immediately gets his thumb and finger on Ghost’s cock and starts stroking him off, pinches just the right side of too hard at the sensitive tip.

“There ye go love, happy?” Soap asks, doesn’t wait for an answer though, instead gets his mouth back on Ghost’s nipples as his other hand also slides into his trousers, those fingers tracing over his hole, applying pressure at his entrance before skittering away again.

Ghost couldn’t answer if he’d wanted to, too busy experiencing pleasure like he’s never felt at so much stimulation. It’s all he can do to clutch at Soap’s shoulders and try to stay upright. 

“So fucking wet for me darling.” 

“S’embarrassing.” Ghost mumbles, heat rising in his cheeks.

“Fuckin is not .” Soap groans, presses just a little more firmly over Ghost’s hole as he nips hard at his nipple, fingers on his clit relentless as they keep stroking. “Do ye have even the slightest idea how sexy ye are? How perfect?”

“Shut up.” 

“No.” Soap tips his head up to meet Ghost’s eye, and Ghost isn’t sure he’ll survive whatever it is he’s about to say, so kisses him quiet instead.

Soap groans happily, eases his tongue back into Ghost’s mouth and finally, oh god fucking finally, eases a finger into Ghost, curls it immediately until he’s brushing over the right spot to have Ghost gasping. 

He bites down automatically, nips Soap’s lip and tastes iron, he can’t even apologise, though he tries, because Soap is crushing their mouths together hard and starting to pump his finger in and out. He slides a second finger in alongside the first and Ghost isn’t thinking anymore.

Soap’s hands are moving in tandem, one stroking his clit as the other’s fingers curl and rub against Ghost’s g-spot and it’s so much better than when he does this too himself, so unbelievably good.  

Ghost’s hips are rolling in time with Soap’s movements, torn between grinding forward into one hand or back onto the other, and he’s trembling, his fingers white knuckled on Soap’s shoulder and in his hair as he rushes headlong towards the edge.

When he comes it’s a mess, mouth open and panting, tears pricking his eyes as his hips buck. He squirts, which he honestly didn’t think could really happen outside of porn, and when Soap eases his fingers out of him and releases his cock even his forearms are soaked.

Ghost knows he must look thoroughly wrecked, overwhelmed and sweaty and teary. Soap looks at him like he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, same way he looks at explosions; awe and reverence. 

“Simon? Ye’alright?” Ghost can’t do more than nod, leans in to kiss Soap again and knows he’s smiling dopily as he does. “You want to carry on? I’ll be honest, I want to get my mouth on ye more than is probably sane or reasonable.”

Ghost still can’t speak, can just about stagger to his feet though, ignores the brightness of his flush when he looks down and sees how soaked Soap’s jeans are, just from him coming all over them. He’s probably going to need to buy a new sofa, too.

Ghost drops his trousers, kicks them towards the bathroom where they hit the floor with a wet slap. He stands naked over Soap, he knows what he looks like, has nothing to hide, Soap certainly seems to like what he’s seeing, gives his cock a hard squeeze.

“Christ alive, Simon, do ye have any idea what you do to me?” 

“Some.” Ghost smirks, looks pointedly down at where Soap is stroking himself through his jeans, wet denim perfectly hugging the outline of his cock. Soap lifts an eyebrow, doesn’t look away from Ghost as he undoes his fly.

When he pulls his cock out through the zip Ghost’s eyes bug, just a little, he’s seen enough cocks in porn and changing rooms to know that all Soap’s confidence isn’t unearned, he’s long, sure, but he’s so so deliciously thick.

Head a rosy pink as Soap strokes himself and slides his foreskin down. Soap shuffles then, moves towards the edge of the couch, and before Ghost knows what’s happening Soap is leaning forward and running his tongue over Ghost’s cock.

Simon’s knees buckle, barely catches himself with his hands on Soap’s shoulders as Soap wraps his lips around him and sucks. Soap’s tongue creeps forward to swirl around the tip of Ghost’s clit as he keeps sucking, Ghost already so sensitive and on the brink.

“Need to get between your legs.” Soap mumbles against him, the vibration of his voice adding another level of pleasure “Lie down?” Soap finally draws away and Ghost flops ungracefully onto his back, lets Soap rearrange him how he wants him. 

One of his legs is hooked over the back of the sofa, the other planted on the floor with Soap knelt between them. It’s not particularly dignified, but Ghost would do far, far worse if it had Soap looking at him the way he currently is.

Like he’s a piece of meat, and Soap is fucking starved. Strong hands trace down the insides of his thighs and inwards, drawing so close to where Ghost wants them but not quite landing. “You’re exquisite.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“I’m dead serious, a work of art, there’d’ve been statues of ye in every home back in the day.” Soap looks like he means it, god help him, apparently sex makes him stupid. 

“You know you aren’t supposed to play with your food?”

“Who’s playing?” Soap doesn’t even look at his face when he speaks, too busy tracing every inch of Ghost’s body. “Yer fucking huge, there’s just so fucking much of ye.” Soap says, but he seems to mean it as a compliment, even as he digs fingers into the softness of Ghost’s belly.

Apparently that works for Ghost, because he feels himself slicking up again, knows Soap can see it too because his eyes zero in and get dark. He traces a thumb between Ghost’s lips and spreads the slick up across his folds and onto the inside of his thigh.

He leans down and follows the same path in reverse with his tongue, laps up the slick he’d smeared and groans as he does, like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. He hooks his hands around and under Ghost’s thighs, hoists them to rest on his shoulders.

He glances up just once, his ears framed by Ghost’s muscular thighs, and winks before he’s diving in, tongue lapping between his folds and over his hole, gathering up every trace of slick he can find.

His tongue strokes back up to lave attention on his clit before swooping back down to bury as deeply inside Ghost as it can get. Soap’s fingers come to play too, two sliding back into Ghost with no resistance and once again teasing relentlessly at his g-spot.

Soap’s nose keeps rubbing at his clit as he laps at his hole and Ghost is dangerously close to the edge again in just minutes. His hands are wrapped in Soap’s mohawk, alternating between pulling him close and pushing him away.

There’s nothing, nothing Ghost has ever felt that could compare to this, the intimacy and the intensity. Ghost knows he could never have done this with anyone else, would never have felt comfortable being this vulnerable with anyone he trusted less than Soap.

“Soap, oh fuck, I’m g’nna-” He doesn’t even get to finish the sentence before his orgasm is washing over him, shaking his entire body and clamping his thighs tightly over Soap’s ears as he rides his tongue.

Soap doesn’t stop, keeps going past the point of oversensitivity, doesn’t even seem to need to breathe as he continues to eat Simon out even as he writhes and wails about how it’s too much, too intense but never asks him to stop.

Ghost’s second orgasm is only a minute after the first, and this one has him squirting again, Soap glued to him open mouthed and moaning as he does. When he finally releases his thighs to let Soap go both his ears are red from the pressure and his grin is wider than ever.

His face is soaked, dripping down his chin and he looks like he couldn’t be happier. Makes a show of licking his lips as Ghost grimaces at him and rolls his eyes. 

“Fucking nasty.”

“Fucking delicious.” Soap corrects, grin not slipping in the slightest. 

He turns his head and wipes his mouth on Ghost’s thigh before climbing back up him, settling between his legs to kiss him. It never occurs to Ghost to turn away, and he tastes himself when Soap licks into his mouth.

“Well?” Soap asks as he leans back, cock nestled up against Ghost’s cunt as his hips move in tiny twitches. It looks painful, hard and red as it curves up towards his belly.

“Well what? You want a performance review?”

“Little positive reinforcement might be nice, aye.” 

“The sergeant approached his task with commendable zeal and fulfilled his role to an admirable standard.” 

“Admirable!” Soap slaps weakly at his chest, clearly repressing laughter.

“Fine, the sergeant rendered his CO speechless with an outstanding performance in the field, CO hopes to see his performance continue at this standard.”

Ghost is grinning by the end, Soap outright howling. When his laughter dies down he stays quiet for a while, hands stroking Ghost’s body absently as he looks at him with such raw fondness it has Ghost’s stomach knotting.

He reaches up to wind a hand back into Soap’s hair, pulls him down to kiss him again. Soap goes lax over his body, drops his weight so they’re flush together from hips to ankles. It’s Ghost who moves his hips, brings them up and a slow grind to run his cunt along Soap’s cock.

“Christ, fuckin insatiable you are, I’m gonna have my hands full, aye?” 

“You must have known that already.” Ghost laughs, stops only when Soap begins to kiss him again, leaves his mouth to kiss a sloppy trail down his throat, finally stopping to suck a bruise into Ghost’s pulse point.

“Wouldn’t have wanted ye any other way.” Soap mutters, his hips joining in on Ghost’s slow rolls, the frictions of Soap’s hot skin sliding between his folds so good Ghost feels a little delirious with it.

“Fuck me?” Ghost begs, refuses to acknowledge the whine in his voice though he knows it’s there. “Please, Soap I need you in me, want you to be the first one. Only one.” Soap’s hips stutter, fall out of rhythm before they stop completely.

“You sure?”

“Johnny, please. ” Soap pulls back, sits up.

“On the bed then love.” Ghost groans in complaint but Soap just stands and slaps at his thigh. “I’m not taking yer virginity on a second hand sofa, darling.”

Ghost grumbles but does stand, bullies his way up behind Soap to wrap his arms around his waist, uses his height to his advantage as he curls over him to press a string of kisses up from his shoulder to his throat, Soap’s hands come down to cover his, squeeze gently and link their fingers together. 

“Come to bed.” He mutters.

“Stop inviting me into my own bed.” 

“Then stop acting like ye need an invitation.” Soap laughs, cranes his neck to let Ghost finish sucking the mark he’s working on, nips and bites chasing each other all the way to his ear.

Ghost finally lets him go when he starts pulling away, Soap flings himself onto the bed and shuffles until his back is pressed to the headboard, pillows propped behind him. He wraps a hand around his cock immediately, head falling back in pleasure as his eyes flutter closed. Ghost could watch him for hours, might one day, will have him put on a show for him.

Not right now though.

Right now he needs Soap inside him yesterday.

He clambers onto the bed, crawls up to straddle Soap’s lap. It’s not elegant, but Soap is looking at him like he’s perfect anyway so Ghost doesn’t particularly care.

“Up.” Soap taps his hip and Ghost obliges, lifts up onto his knees and hovers over Soap’s cock, Soap moves so his tip is resting against Ghost’s cock, rubs it back and forth until they’re both groaning and when he pulls back there’s a strand of slick connecting their tips together. “Need me to stretch ye more or-”

Ghost has had enough of waiting, he doesn’t need any more coddling, or stretching, what he needs is Soap inside him right this second, he adjusts his hips and starts to sink down.

The pressure is intense, feels bigger than any of the dildos he’s taken before, and he moans loudly the moment the pressure gives and Soap’s head slips inside. Soap swears, hands gripping tightly over Ghost’s hips, tight enough to bruise with any luck, ten little blue fingertips mapping out this moment.

Ghost might get them tattooed.

Ghost sinks lower, inch by perfect, thick , inch sinking inside him until he’s finally sat flush with Soap’s lap, sweating and panting but so perfectly full.

“Oh Christ, you feel so good Simon, absolutely perfect. Like ye were made for me.” 

“Think I was.” Ghost answers, a little hysterically, he’s never felt pleasure even close to like this, had never expected the effect that the mind could have, the knowledge alone that this was his Johnny inside him, fucking him, filling him up.

He rises onto his knees, the drag of Soap’s cock inside him already lighting up parts of his body he hadn’t even known could feel pleasure. Soap’s hands on his hips help him set the pace as he begins to bounce, rising and falling on his knees, angling his hips to try and have Soap where he really needs him.

He drops down harsher than normal and feels like he’s been winded, a strange pain that pushes air out of his lungs but has him dizzy with arousal.

“That’s yer cervix, love.” Fuck, Soap was so deep inside him, had him feeling so good he was out of his mind with it, no awareness outside of more and full and yes. Soap whispering into his ear over and over about how good he is, how tight, how he’s the best he’s ever had.

Ghost hopes that’s true because regardless he’s certainly the last Soap’s ever going to have, he’s never going to let him go now, not when he finally has him right where he’s always wanted him.

His muscles are straining as he uses his hands on the headboard to help leverage himself, hips slowing in their rise and fall to grind instead, he’s panting open mouthed and when he leans forward Soap is there, licking into his mouth and kissing him sloppy and wet and disgusting and so insanely good.

Ghost tries to go back to riding but the unfamiliar movement has got his thighs weak and after only a few thrusts they’re trembling and giving way so he lands squarely in Soap’s lap. 

“I’ve got ye, love.” Soap mutters into his mouth, wraps his arm tight around Ghost’s waist and bucks his hips up, rolls them in a mimic of a sparring move Ghost had taught him once, until he has Ghost pinned below him, cock still buried deep.

“Please.”

“Shhh.” Soap peppers kisses across Ghost’s face as his hips start up a slow roll, grinding just right so that his skin grinds against Ghost’s clit each time he slides home, the depth he gets like this means his cock is butting against Ghost’s cervix with each thrust and Ghost can’t help the pathetic chant of pleas and encouragements he’s spewing in a constant stream.

“Harder, faster, more.” Ghost begs, knows Soap would never deny him, and he doesn’t, picks up the force and pace of his thrusts, pulls his face away so he can watch Ghost’s as he gets fucked. Soap’s balls are slapping against his arse with each thrust and the lewd slap is only increasing Ghost’s arousal, has him hovering on the brink.

“Ghost love, I’m close.”

“Please, please, come in me, yeah? Need to feel it.” Ghost blinks his eyes open to catch Soap’s, pulls Soap in for a kiss and presses their foreheads together. Soap’s hand slides between their bodies to rub at Ghost’s cock and that’s all it takes, Ghost is coming with a shout, slick gushing between them as he locks his legs around Soap’s hips to keep him inside.

“Fuck!” Soap yelps, his eyes squeezing shut as his jaw goes slack, breaths harsh as he buries himself deep, tip nudging Ghost’s cervix as he comes inside. Ghost can feel it, the sensation of warmth deep inside him, filling a space he hadn’t even been aware was empty.

Soap’s hips keep twitching for a long time, not helped by Ghost realising he can coax the most delicious sounds out of him if he clenches his cunt, and using that to his advantage. When Soap finally does blink back to awareness and go to pull out Simon is having none of it, keeps his legs locked so Soap is forced to stay right where he is, softening cock tucked snugly inside him.

“Christ alive, Ghost.”

“Yeah.” Ghost pants back. Smiles to himself when Soap lets his weight drop, sags boneless onto Ghost’s chest, head cushioned over his heart. Ghost lets his hands wander absently, traces patterns along Soap’s back and up onto his scalp. Scratches through Soap’s hair until he’s soft and purring like a kitten.

“Soap?” 

“Hm?”

“You a pet sitter?” 

Soap turns his head to rest his chin on Ghost’s sternum, raises an eyebrow.

“Ye what?”

“You a pet sitter? Because you’ve taken excellent care of my pussy.” His chest is shaking with laughter before he even finishes saying it, and Soap is squawking and slapping his chest just as he intended.

“Just for that ye deserve to be a virgin forever.” Soap grumbles, his own smile breaking free as he does.

“Too late for that.” 

“Well, yer lucky, because a joke like that? Most people wouldn’t stick around.”

“Good thing you ain’t most people then, innit?” Ghost grins, a little lopsided, and this time he does let Soap pull out and stand up. “You coming back to bed?”

“Aye, just get ye a cloth before ye make a mess.” He stops and takes in the sight of Ghost and the sheets “Er, more of a mess.”

Ghost rolls his eyes and waves him away. Lets Soap fuss over him when he comes back, cleaning away the sweat and fluids as best he can. He opens his arms when Soap climbs back into bed, folds him up and tucks him under his chin, twines their legs until even he can’t tell who’s who.

There’s more talking to be done, what are they now, how will this work, is Ghost sure that he doesn’t want to try fucking anyone else.

There’ll be words like love and forever bandied about and likely both of them will cry, just a little.

For now though, Ghost has Soap in his arms, and he’s warm, and comfortable, and he has a lot of cuddling to do.