The Good I'll Do | ghost x soap

i

The three men sat at the round table, waiting for their captain to show up for their meeting. Each one had a drink in front of them, each with a slightly different substance in it, each of it containing caffeine. The one with the mask had a mug of earl grey tea with one cube of sugar; the Scotsman had straight black coffee; the caramel-colored brit had a sixteen-ounce sugar free red bull sitting on top of a napkin, so it did not sweat onto the table. They had a slight idea about what this meeting was about—new recruits. They absolutely hated when the still wet behind the ears recruits were allowed to move into the barracks.

Ghost secretly enjoyed it. He often scared them with his skull plate and balaclava. He believed that fear was healthy. Kept them in line. Reminded they were here to do a job, not at sleep away camp.

Soap openly hated it because they stole all the good snacks from the rec room and were always playing on the video game console whenever he wanted to play.

Gaz was more indifferent about it. If the new recruits proved themselves good enough, maybe they would not have to work as hard all the time.

The older masked man had recently done some shopping; his two newest addition to his collection was a tan cape and black gaiter. There had been some solo missions he was sent on where his balaclava was ripped to shit, and he had to improvise with tying half a t-shirt around his nose until returning safely to base. He secretly felt like the updated look gave him an even scarier appearance. He had also been waiting to hear back from Price about an approval for a request he made. He believed it would help everyone, but he was starting to get impatient. Soon, he was going to ask for forgiveness and fuck the permission.

The door opened, and Price walked in. He had marks on his neck that married his slight limp in his step. He was also extremely disheveled and smelled heavily of a Russian cigar. The masked man raised an eyebrow; the Scotsman spat his drink out; the man in the baseball cap had to cough to cover up a laugh.

Price glared at the three of them, "What?"

Ghost ran a gloved finger down his own neck to motion to the captain that he had been caught red handed. Price tried to fight the blush that creeped up his neck.

"Bloody hell Capt," Gaz muttered, handing Soap a napkin from his pocket. Mister-Always-Prepared.

"Wha is th' jammy body?" Soap asked, cleaning up his mess.

"You know MacTavish, English is a beautiful language," Ghost teased, "You should speak it more often."

"Oh, piss off Ghost," Soap replied, "It's too early for your smartass remarks."

"Soap, I promise you were not saying that this morning," Kyle retorted taking a sip of his redbull.

Soap turned bright red, "'n' howfur th' hell dae ye ken that?"

"English," Ghost muttered, taking a sip of his tea.

"Remember, I share a fucking wall with you," Kyle mutter, rolling his eyes, "a paper-thin wall."

"How did this become shitting on Soap? Price is the one with hickeys on his neck!" Soap cried out, attempting to act fake hurt.

Price sighed, putting his hands on his hips, "You guys have sex. Is it against the law for me to have sex?"

Soap gagged, "That's like when yer maw 'n' da would kiss in front of you as a child."

Ghost rolled his eyes, "Price, as long as you're happy and safe, that's all I care about."

"Thank you, Ghost," Price replied, slightly caught off guard, "Looks like someone updated his wardrobe."

The masked man shrugged, "Figured it was time since we are due for new recruits."