A few days later, the team was in the rec room relaxing after a tough mission. Gaz and Price were at a table drinking and chatting. Ghost and Soap were on the sofa with their thighs touching. Johnny was sketching in his notebook.
Out of nowhere, Soap made a popping noise. No on cared, since it was just a tiny noise. But what everyone wasn't expecting was for Simon to mimic the pop. Johnny looked over at him.
"What?" The Brit asked.
"Did you mimic me?" Soap asked.
"No."
"I ken ye did. This wouldn't be th' first time, either."
"Oh, and you've counted the times I supposedly have?"
"Aye. You've mimicked me a bunch. Five times, recently." That statement made Simon blush out of embarrassment. "S'not a bad thing... It's cute." That statement made the Brit sputter like a dead car battery.
"Johnny!" He exclaimed. The Scot just twirled his pencil in his slightly overgrown mohawk and smirked smugly.
"What? I'm tellin' it like it is," he said.
"Ugh, get a room," Gaz stated as he walked into the rec room. He grabbed two mugs and started filling them with tea.
"Tha's chamomile, Gaz," Soap pointed out.
"I know."
"Ye want yerself and Price to fall asleep while you're on his lap, and he's thrustin'?" Johnny asked. Simon quietly snorted, while Kyle flinched.
"You're on a roll, Johnny," Ghost whispered.
"You're filthy," Gaz huffed.
"Tha's what Si said to me last night," Soap said with a grin. It wasn't true, but Gaz didn't need to know that.
Well... he didn't need to be told that Soap and Ghost were fucking, but here we are.
"I'm gonna leave before you start tellin' me about your BDSM test results," Kyle said as he swiftly finished making the teas and left.
"I think that was a bit much, Johnny," Ghost stated as he leaned his masked head on his partner's shoulder.
"Aye, but tha's what ye like aboot me, innit? I'm blunt, I smoke blunts, and I fuck like a dehydrated and starved man."
"TMI, Soap."
"Sorry, Si."
~~~
To say that the next mission went poorly would be an understatement. Ghost got captured while the team were in some foggy woods (how the fuck does that happen? He's like a brick wall!). Soap was barely holding himself together when he met up with Price and Gaz. He was practically vibrating.
"Now, Soap, let me tell you something," the Captain started to say, before being cut-off.
"If ye donnae let me get Ghost, I'll implode," the Scot said between gritted teeth.
"As I was saying, Sergeant," Price continued, "we have the coordinates to where Ghost is."
"Damn, Cap, that was a bit fast," Gaz pointed out.
"Well, these guys are... let's, just say, not good at being bad." Price gave Soap the coordinates. "Bring him home."
"Aye, sir, will do." And with that, John trudged through the dense wilderness. There was gonna be hell to pay once he found his Lieutenant.
~~~
"Awe, look at him. He's waking up," a clearly American voice taunted. Ghost was tied up pretty tightly to a wooden chair. He'd been knocked out before being taken away. He groaned as his eyes slowly focused. An overhead lamp was lightly swinging above him. The place reeked of old wood and maybe old animal feces.
He looked up at the man's face and gasped.
