Work Text:
BANG BANG BANG
Price had hired a fancy-named-job guy (basically a construction worker) to fix the roof. It used to have a skylight in it, but some idiotic recruit screwed up the skylight (now glassless) and the surrounding shingles. Now, they probably would've been able to fix it themselves–
BANG BANG BANG
–but Price said something about the support of the skylight being damaged and they had to call a professional. Due to the notoriety of 141, they couldn't hire a civilian, so they hired a military guy that had previously specialized in a fancy-named construction job. John had no idea who they brought in for it and he didn't see any new vehicles show up. He didn't particularly care–
BANG BANG BANG BANG
—who the hell it was, as long as they got their job done–
BANG BANG
–and got the hell outta the base before he loses his bloody fucking mind–
BANG BANG BANG
That's it.
Soap stands and storms outside the base, ready to give whoever the fuck is driving a nail into his skull a piece of his mind.
As he swings around the corner of the building, fully prepared to yell at the guy to get off the property, no matter the hole in the roof and that it's not his place to tell him to leave, he freezes.
Because that's Ghost on the roof. Ghost his lieutenant, ya ken, the guy who is feared so much that everyone has forgotten his name overtime.
Soap can only see his back, but damn what a back it is.
Soap starts feeling a little hot under the collar, in a way that has nothing to do with the heat, as Ghosts' muscles tense when Ghost raises the hammer and momentarily relax when the hammer hits its target.
He loses all anger from his frame as he slows down and attempts to muffle his footsteps so as not to disrupt Ghost from his work.
Coming around to where he can see Ghosts' profile, he stifles a gasp.
Ghost looks so bloody stunning like this. He still has his balaclava on, but rolled up so it's sitting on his nose. The sleeves of the black compression shirt are rolled up, which leaves his forearms on full display.
He distantly recalls Ghost being proficient in planning-slash-constructing because his role in missions they go on require knowledge in floor plans and things like that. Like how John knows quite a bit about structural layouts.
But, at the forefront of his mind, all thoughts have fled his brain and all he thinks is holy shit bloody fucking hell what I wouldn't give to be that nail right now, being pounded into the tiles by Simon.
Ghost brings down the hammer again with a grunt. And oh holy hell he's gonna kill me, he groans with a blush high on his cheeks as Ghost tosses the hammer and pants with his tongue out. Soap can imagine a million and one things Ghost can do with that tongue of his, but he tries not to.
Tries. Key word here.
He can barely keep his mind out of the gutter, right now it only has four limbs in it, his torso, and yeah, okay maybe his mind isn't out of the gutter at all.
"...hell it's so hot ou' here." He can barely hear the heavily accented gravelly voice over the jack-rqbbit beat of his heart.
It's unreal what this man can do to him without said man even realizing.
His lieutenant climbs further up the roof and plops down with his knees spread and pulled close to his chest. His head hangs as he continues to pant.
The already form-fitting compression shirt is now adhered to Ghosts' form, accentuating his muscles and his… pecs. Every time Ghost breathes in, his chest expands and it draws attention to his nipples. Soap feels a bolt of heat zing up his spine and his abdomen clenches.
Despite knowing that looking further down will only worsen his… situation, he does it anyway.
Soap feels his entire face flush and his eyes widen (can they even do that?) as he notices the fabric of Ghosts' pants stretch over the bulge. He completely blue screens and tries to will the blush away, but it doesn't help much seeing as he's still staring at Ghost and letting his mind into the gutter.
He slaps a hand over his mouth and rips his eyes away from the arousing sight in front of him so as not to do something embarrassing as moaning Ghosts' name out loud.
But in his head, that's fair game.
It takes him a good few minutes to become a functioning member of society again (after several fantasies crowd his brain and him beating them back with a bat), but he goes right back to being brain dead when he sees Ghosts' muscles bulge and his veins stand out when he hauls himself off the roof and unto the ground. He's gonna kill me an' he won't even ken it.
When he sees that Ghost is beginning to walk towards his spot, he starts panicking. Bloody hell fuckin' hell oh my fuck what am I s'posed ta do? He's about to turn around and full-sprint to the nearest area away from Ghost, but Ghost musta spotted him because he picks up into a slow jog.
Soap tries to act like he wasn't creepily staring at him and his perfectly sculpted body for the past some-odd minutes, but he isn't sure he pulls it off very well seeing the look Ghost gives him.
Ghost breaks from the jog and back into a walk as he gets closer, "Aye, Johnny." He greets.
Johnny opens his mouth to respond but sees the once over Simon gives him, paired with the sudden Greek god he'd been admiring for a while suddenly close to him, every higher brain function (such as talking) shuts down, "uhh…"
Simon's eyes pause briefly on his lower parts before they continue back up to his flushed face and his wandering eyes. "Johnny," he smirks, "you have a…problem."
And Johnny still can't function, even with the call out to his arousal.
Ghost brushes past him with a heavy hand on his neck and Soap finally checks back into reality at the show of possession.
"I'll be in the showers, Johnny, if you need to search me for injuries like you've been doing for twenty minutes." He hears Simon call out over his shoulder as Soap whips around to face him.
Soap grins and follows.