Several days later, Soap was going through his checklist in his room.
"Get up 'n' ready at 0630? Check. Make sure mohawk is flawless? Check. Eat breakfast? Check. Check up on Ghost? Check. Get some exercise in? Check." He smiled to himself. "Looks like everything's done this morning."
He put his checklist away, and walked to go see what Gaz was up to. The whole time, he was smiling. As he was walking down the hall, Ghost turned a corner and bumped into him. Soap stumbled backwards, and the Brit grabbed his shirt to stop him from falling.
"You solid?" Simon asked, as he pulled John back onto his feet.
"All good, LT."
The two men awkwardly stared at each other for a moment. Ghost was unintentionally (maybe intentionally) blocking Soap's path, so he spoke up.
"Need somethin', sir?" Soap asked the towering Brit.
"Actually, I do. Can we talk privately?" Ghost responded.
"Sure, LT." Soap smiled brightly. If Simon wasn't wearing a mask, his "non-existent" blush would be showing. The smile of that Sergeant makes him weak... Weak? Simon 'Ghost' Riley? Never.
"My room?" John suggested. Ghost just nodded.
The duo walked into Soap's room. The Scot shut the door behind them, then turned to face his superior.
"What did ye need, LT?" He asked.
"I, uh, need my hands looked at," the Brit responded.
"Yer hands?"
"Yes, my hands. Is that an issue, Sergeant?"
"No, sir. J'st an odd request, is all."
Simon slowly took off his gloves. John's pants became uncomfortably tight, due to him having a painful erection. Sure, it was just a bit of skin. But to him, it was everything. He had not-so-hidden feelings for Ghost, but he'd never verbally confessed.
The Lieutenant's hands were pale and were covered in calluses. They were also noticeably dry. Soap snapped out of his unholy thoughts and walked up to him.
"Ye have lotion, don't you?" He asked, to which the other man averted his gaze.
"Mine isn't the right kind," Simon said. It was a lie. He just wanted to be with Soap.
"I see. And why no' go see anyone else? Just askin'."
"Well, I bumped into you. So I took that as an opportunity."
"Gotcha. Lemme see what I've got," John said as he walked over to a cabinet.
Simon awkwardly stood in the center of the room.
"Thanks fer trustin' me, LT," Soap said as he grabbed a bottle of lotion. "This'll help with yer sensitive skin, as well as yer scuffed-up knuckles." He walked up to his superior with a soft, warm smile. Then he pumped a tiny glob onto his palm and looked up at him. "D'ye trust me with this?" He asked.
Ghost looked down at the ivory white goop, then back at Soap.
"I guess so," he muttered.
"Do ya guess so, or do ya know so?" John jokingly asked. Unfortunately, Simon didn't realize it was a joke.
"I know so, I guess," he mumbled as he averted his gaze back down to the lotion.
"M'sorry, LT. That was meant to be a joke. I didnae mean t' make ye uncomfortable."
"It's fine... You can go ahead and... take care of my hands now..." And that's what Soap did. He very carefully placed his hand on top of Simon's, which caused the bigger man to flinch. That made Soap stop what he was about to do. But after getting another go-ahead, he gently massaged his superior's hands, while standing up.
The room filled with comfortable silence. The massage felt nice. Really nice. Ghost wasn't used to such tenderness towards him. He stared at his hands as John worked his magic.
"Y'ken why I'm doin' this, Si?" The Scot asked.
"Because I asked you to?" Ghost replied. That got a chuckle out of Soap.
"Well, yes and no. I'm doin' this because I care aboot ya."
"You what?" Simon asked. John looked up at him with a warm smile.
"I care, Si," he repeated.
"But why?" Ghost tilted his head slightly to the side, looking like a lost puppy.
"Well, because ye deserve t' be cared for."
"No, I don't."
"Yes, ye do."
"I don't." Simon narrowed his eyes.
"Simon, m'not gonna argue with ya aboot this."
"Then don't," the Brit said with a slight, unintentional snap.
"Alright, Simon," Soap responded calmly.
Johnny took care of the Brit's wounds in silence. He kept his gaze away from Ghost, but he could feel eyes on him.
"Need something, LT?" He asked.
"No, Sergeant," Simon replied as he looked at his hands. He felt vulnerable, even if a small amount of skin was showing.
"M'sorry I snapped..." he mumbled.
"It's all good, LT. I ken you're not used to bein' pampered."
"But I shouldn't have gotten angry."
"M'not holdin' a grudge. I understand."
The slight tension slowly melted away, and another comfortable silence filled the room.
"If ye ever need somethin' else, ye can always come to me."
"I might just take you up on that, Johnny."
