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The sight that greeted Soap in the common area was the last thing he had expected though, he supposed, maybe it did make a lot of sense in the end.
After all, it wasn’t like he had seen masks akin to Ghost’s in any shops so they had to be handmade. He just hadn’t connected the dots, really, and imagined Ghost actually making them himself.
However uncanny a thought it could be, it was no longer a matter of imagining now since the man himself, clad in comfy sweats and jumper, was sitting in an armchair, tabletop light aimed at the mask he was holding in his hand, gleaming off the long needle he had in the other, dark thread trailing after it as he finished a stitch.
And, of course, just to add to the whole unusual scene, he had reading glasses on, sitting on top of his balaclava, riding low on his nose. He looked homely and, for the lack of a better word, adorable.
Soap stopped in his tracks, just staring at him, his brain short-circuiting as it echoed the thought of Ghost being soft and cute. Really, he only lacked a plaid blanket over his knees and a curled-up cat on his lap to make the picture indeed come together.
Ghost looked up at him above the rim of his glasses.
“You alright, sergeant?” he asked, blinking, his eyelashes long and golden in the warm light, and Soap blushed.
Caught ogling, guilty as charged.
“Y-yeah, all good, Lt.” he stuttered just the tiniest bit as he spun around full circle before deciding to flop onto the sofa that was facing Ghost’s armchair.
He fumbled with the diary he brought with him and finally dropped it onto the coffee table, opening it on an empty page. He knew his face was still flushed as he pulled out a couple of pencils from his pocket; he was not looking at Ghost but he had a feeling a pair of brown eyes was fixed on the top of his head as he leaned over the notebook.
He had a plan to write a little bit about the last mission and draw the common room, it was why he originally came there, after all, but he couldn’t help gravitating to the idea of drawing exactly what was in front of him, that was, the lieutenant doing his arts and crafts project on another skull-shaped hard mask like it was the most natural thing.
Well, maybe to him it was but Soap was really going through some curious emotions over it. Mainly, he was losing grip on his ever-suppressed urge to grab Ghost’s face with both his hands and…
Soap shook his head and bore his gaze into the page, willing his brain into submission.
The 141 common room, right.
He started sketching loose lines to mark what he was seeing, the little kitchenette in the background, the table they sometimes shared midnight snacks at, the lamp standing now at the edge of it and before he knew it he had an outline of the armchair with Ghost sitting snugly in it.
Yeah, fuck it.
He brought the sketchbook up closer to himself, supporting it on his legs as he pulled them up, making sure Ghost wouldn’t see what he was drawing. He carefully sculpted out the details of his balaclava, his eyes, and the glasses, carefully laying the shadows out to make the folds of his comfy clothes as true to the real thing as he could. He watched his nimble fingers work the needle, and pull the thread through the holes in the plastic mask he had painted into a slightly different pattern this time.
Soap worked in a trance, mesmerized as he studied his lieutenant so openly but even if Ghost was aware of his eyes flicking up to him more and more often now, he didn’t let it on; he worked quietly on his thing, only once pushing the glasses up the bridge of his nose when they slid too low for his needs.
Soap paid no attention to the passage of time as they both sat there in silence, each focused on their project, nobody interrupting them, the peace a precious yet rare occurrence in their usually loud and fast-paced lives.
The clock counted the minutes and the warmth of the lazy evening settled into Soap’s bones as he took one final glance at Ghost.
He put the last line where he needed it and stared at his creation, the hand that held the pencil still hanging in the air as he let the realization that the drawing held an emotional load of the decade sink in.
There was no doubt that whoever saw this would be able to point out, without hesitation, that the artist had a deep… appreciation for the subject.
He had stared at Ghost very intensely before and now he was staring with the same intensity at what came from under his hands, considering whether it wasn’t too revealing to just let it exist. His hand twitched a little as he contemplated simply ripping the page out and pretending this moment of weakness had never happened.
“It’s very good, Johnny,” said Ghost right above him, his voice deep but with an uncharacteristic edge of softness.
Soap’s head snapped up, his eyes going wide as he felt caught in the act once again though he hadn’t done anything that could be considered a crime. The shame that he felt, however, made him instantly remember that time his mom had found him elbow-deep in the sweets drawer right before dinner time.
“I-uh- thanks.” he choked out, blinking rapidly as Ghost’s eyes smiled at him somewhat smugly.
He watched as Ghost took his glasses off swiftly, put them in his pocket, and pulled his balaclava off like it was no big deal to let Soap see his face for a moment before he unfolded the freshly made mask.
“Tell me if it fits correctly,” he said, catching Soap’s eye for a moment; his lips bent into a grin that disappeared behind the dark material when he put it over his head, adjusting it so that the hard mask lied properly over his features.
Soap looked. He was asked to look, wasn’t he? He supposed the skull was meant to be scary but at this point, with them working together for over half a year, it was just part of Ghost, part of Simon though Soap didn’t often allow himself to think about the man by his given name, respecting that he wanted to be known as who he was right now. To Soap though, the two were the same. No matter how much Ghost could try to put up a facade of someone distant from his humanity, Soap saw much more of it in him than in some people who never claimed to be anything but human.
He saw it in his eyes and he couldn’t really deny that it was them, those damn eyes, that turned out to be his downfall, the way they expressed a myriad of emotions and so many of them directed at him though left unspoken between them while they talked deep into the night, their tea going disgustingly cold as they both clutched at their mugs, refusing to let their hands crawl atop the table towards each other, fingers itching, nevertheless always held at bay.
They haunted him when he lied alone in his room, sleepless, wondering whether they were open in the darkness just like his or already peacefully resting, fair eyelashes fluttering as the dreams took over.
Looking into them now, he stood up. Being right in Ghost’s space wasn’t exactly new but it felt a little exhilarating anyway.
“Let’s see.” making Ghost lean down a little, Soap put his hands on the mask below Ghost’s eyes and pushed on it lightly to check if it sat evenly on his nose.
He pressed with his thumbs as he ran the other fingers along the edge, feeling how snugly it fit Ghost’s cheeks without digging in anywhere.
“I think it’s good,” he said, never dropping Ghost’s gaze as he gave in to an impulsive thought and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose that peeked so cutely through the hole in the skull design.
Ghost blinked, an earth-shattering level of confusion right on display as their eyes met again; the realization of what Soap had just done was sinking in fast now.
“Johnny…” Ghost said, the emotion in his voice not fully readable to Soap for the first time in a while.
“Yeah?” Soap blushed but didn’t think to remove his palms from Ghost’s face where they still rested.
“What did you just do?” Ghost did not sound angry, Soap was sure of that at least.
“I checked if the nose hole is big enough.” Soap mentally congratulated himself on the quick wit.
The time paused for a heartbeat still.
“And? What’s the verdict?” Ghost’s expression finally settled and it was, to Soap’s surprise, certainly playful.
“I’m not sure, Lt, may have to check again.” he pushed his luck a bit.
“Hmmm, be my guest.” Ghost hummed.
Soap felt a little silly doing it fully consciously but he leaned in and pressed his lips to the tip of Ghost’s nose, the material of the mask soft, the flesh underneath a little cold now that he had time to really analyze what he was experiencing.
His eyelashes fluttered as he pulled away, focusing on Ghost again.
“I think it’s decent,” he said, a little breathy.
“Just decent?” Ghost scoffed but it lacked the usual punch of sarcasm.
“I still haven’t checked all the properties.” Soap rubbed his thumbs across the skull’s “cheeks”.
“What’s next on the list?” Ghost sounded genuinely amused.
“If it stays neatly rolled up when you need to, for example, have a drink.” he finally slid his hands down until he curled his fingers around the hem, silently asking permission.
“A drink… Alright, go on.” Ghost let him pull it up and Soap pushed the bunched-up material between the skull and Ghost’s nose. It stayed there, exposing his smirk. “I think it’s acceptable.”
“Let me decide that.” holding his breath, Soap leaned in and kissed him on those smiling lips, his mouth plush and warm underneath Soap’s, just as perfect as he sometimes let himself imagine it to be during the short moments of weakness.
Even after this whole unusual conversation, it still was somehow surprising that Ghost simply kissed him back, no questions asked. Not only that, he slipped Soap some tongue which made Soap's heart race as he responded in kind, crimson blush high on his cheeks. The hard mask got in the way a little bit and Soap would have definitely liked more freedom to explore his mouth but all his mental complaints went away quickly as Ghost’s arms came around him, pulling him in closer; Soap melted into their warmth, his head spinning not just from the oxygen slowly running out between them.
“Yeah…” he finally said, breathlessly pulling away but only an inch, just enough to look him in the eyes properly. “I think it’s acceptable.”
The last word got swallowed by Ghost’s mouth pressing firmly to his again.