Chapter Text
John “Soap” Mactavish has always been a competitive guy.
In grade school, he would compete with all the other boys in his year to see who could run the farthest or jump the highest. No matter the challenge, Soap was always right there, fighting to best everyone else. It made him a bit of a troublemaker in school, getting kicked out of the class for challenging his peers.
After he was expelled for unruly behavior, Soap joined the military. At first, his Mom was hoping that this would be the place to finally set him straight. But on the first day at boot camp, Soap had this epiphany. In the army, stopping at nothing to be the best wasn’t competitive spirit or cockiness, it was the key to success. He finally had somewhere to direct all of his competitive energy.
It was Soap’s mission to place top of his class.
Whether it was combat drills or marksman training, Soap out performed all of his peers. He placed first in close range sparring and set the fastest times on the track. During his underwater drills, Soap made sure that he was the last cadet to surface for air. If he didn’t immediately ace any task before him, he would stop at nothing to improve.
When demolitions first proved to be a challenge, Soap read every book and talked to every expert that he could find on base. He read bomb manuals while eating in the Mess and even stayed on base during his days off to get more hands-on experience with the materials. It got so bad that his Commanding Officers used to make fun of him for it but Soap didn’t care.
When the next benchmark came around, Soap had improved so much that his time for arming and defusing explosives set a new base record. He was minutes faster than everyone else, no one even came close to his time.
Soap graduated early from basic training for his exemplary performance and achievements. Now in active service, he climbed the ranks with ease, setting records and making a name for himself wherever he went. Soap stopped at nothing to be the best of the best.
All that hard work finally paid off when he earned his place in Task Force 141, becoming the youngest Sergeant to do so. He was at the top of the world.
Nobody could match Soap’s level. Well, until he met the Lieutenant.
-------
“Keep up, Johnny,” Ghost shouts as he passes.
“Shut the fuck up.”
It’s gotten to be a daily routine at this point.
Soap gets up before sunrise and heads to the track for a morning run. More often than not, a familiar lanky figure clad in all black meets him there. They say little to each other when it’s this early, instead taking the time to stretch. Once they are both limbered up, they stand side by side along the starting line.
With a grunt, the pair take off. It’s still early and the base grounds are empty around them. As they run, Soap lets his muscles work on memory as his legs carry him forward. The first couple laps are easy, both runners are neck and neck.
By the halfway point, the exertion is starting to get to Soap. His feet start to hurt and legs tire. Because of it, his pace suffers. Ghost on the other hand, is a vat of endless energy. When Soap starts to slow down, Ghost seems to speed up.
Like every morning, Ghost slowly pulls away, creating a gap between them as he runs ahead. When Soap drops down from a sprint to more of a jog, Ghost is far ahead of him. At one point, Soap loses sight of him completely until he hears familiar footfalls coming from behind him.
“Don’t you dare,” Soap warns as he tries to push himself into a run again.
“Sorry, can’t help it,” Ghost goades as he runs past, his pace never faltering.
“Ghost!” He yells out as his feet become heavy again and Ghost tears off ahead.
When Soap’s eight kilometer run is done, his legs feel like jelly and he’s breathing heavy. He collapses onto the open patch of grass next to the track. His chest heaves as he tries to regain his breath. Ghost strolls up looking completely unaffected except for the clothing on his back being slick with sweat. He has his balaclava rolled up over his nose so his mouth is free as he lazily smokes a cigarette.
“I have a joke for you,” Ghost says as he watches the sun crawl up over the horizon. The cigarette is resting in the corner of his mouth.
“Oh, yeah?” Soap manages between pants.
“Why did the squirrel cross the river on its back?” Ghost takes a drag, sucking the smoke deep into his lungs. Soap mulls the question over but comes up blank. He shrugs. Ghost exhales the smoke in a long puff.
“To keep his nuts dry.”
“Haud yer weesht--” Soap scoffs as he pushes off the ground.
“Didn’t like that one?” Ghost teases, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
“I’ve heard better,” Soap fires back, holding his hand out for Ghost to pass over the cigarette. He does it without question.
“So you gonna tell me where you got your super soldier serum from? You run like a man possessed,” Soap jokes before taking a long drag.
“Natural born talent, Johnny,” Ghost answers with a mean smile, “Keep practising. Maybe then you can finally outrun me.” He steals back the cigarette, taking one last puff.
“When I’m in a walker,” he adds after the fact. Soap punches his arm.
“Asshole.” Ghost lets out a chuckle at that, before stomping the burnt bud out on the ground. As Soap turns to leave, a gruff voice draws him back.
“Still on for sparring later?”
“I’ll be there.”
-------
After the run, Ghost heads back to his room for a shower while Soap makes an immediate beeline for the cafeteria. As it gets later into the morning, the mess is packed with recruits all filing in line to get breakfast. Soap manages to get a tray of food and finds a relatively quiet table to eat in peace. As he scarfs down his breakfast, a warm hand claps around his shoulder.
“Morning,” Gaz mumbles as he tiredly plops down in the empty space next to him.
“Good morning to you too,” Soap chides. Gaz lets out an exaggerated yawn as he stretches his arms over his head. Without the other man noticing, Soap takes the opportunity to swipe an extra sausage from Gaz’s plate.
“How was your run?”
“Same as always.” The admission makes Gaz tilt his head back to laugh.
“You're still on that?” Soap flashes Gaz a hard glare before going back to his food.
This little rivalry between Soap and Ghost is a bit of an open secret on base. Soap going head to head with his Lieutenant in any challenge he can and always getting second place. Boxing, disassembling a rifle, you name it, Ghost always comes out on top.
Ghost is especially good when it comes to anything stealth related. When they go head to head, sometimes Soap will think he has a shot because Ghost is nowhere in sight, just for the Lieutenant to blow him out of the water at the last possible second.
It makes that competitive side of Soap’s brain go haywire, knowing that there’s not a single challenge that he can beat Ghost in. He knows it’s a bit ridiculous at this point, but he’s never met a man before that’s better than him at everything.
Still, that doesn’t mean that Soap isn’t gonna try and one up his Lieutenant any chance he gets.
“He can’t be the best at everything,” Soap says with a grumble.
The pair fall into a comfortable silence as they eat. After a couple sips of coffee, Gaz wakes up into his regular chipper self. Now with his energy restored to him, he catches Soap up on the latest gossip.
“A batch of pilots just touched down in the hangar and I have it on good authority that there is a certain foul mouthed Russian pilot amongst them,” Gaz relays between bites of food.
“Nikolai’s back? That’s good. Does Price know?”
“Who do you think I heard it from?” Soap rolls his eyes, but keeps eating. From the other side of the room, the massive double doors swing open. Standing in the threshold of the mess is Price. He scans from one corner of the room to the next, before his gaze lands on Soap. He marches over.
“Soap! You’re on rookie training this morning,” Price orders, passing over a clipboard and a stack of paper.
“What? I thought I was not allowed to run those anymore.” Soap argues with a mouth full of sausage and eggs.
“Yeah, last time Tav let the recruits blow up a building!” Gaz adds helpfully. Price lets out a sigh.
“Any other morning and that’d be true, but today we will have to make an exception. With super vision.”
“Right. Who am I paired with?”
“Who do you think I’d send to put up with you?” Soap sits up and flips through the papers in front of him. As he scans the packet, he spots a familiar name in the instructor category.
“Fuck, yes!” Soap cheers as he shovels the last of his breakfast into his mouth before gathering his things to make a pit stop at his room before heading for the shooting range.
“Don’t let one of the rookies shoot you in the ass,” Gaz calls to him, snickering. Soap flips him off before leaving the cafeteria.
-------
Training cadets with Ghost is always the best. Since they are still new to the base, Ghost is a total mystery to them. The tall, built, brooding man with the skull mask always puts the fear of God into the new recruits. Soap can’t help but watch and laugh.
Currently, Ghost is scaring the ever living shit out of them. He’s having them work on their sniping skills for targets 900 meters away. Every time one of the cadets misses, Ghost sends them for laps. So far, at least every cadet has had to drop their weapon to go run two kilometers before coming back and trying again.
“Geez, is he always like this?” One of the cadets, Morrison, grumbles as he makes it back to the range after his laps.
“Would you shut up? I don’t want to give him another reason to give us laps,” his pal, Reyes, scolds as he lines up his shot down range.
“You should see him without his morning tea, then he’s even worse,” Soap adds cheekily from where he is standing off to the side as he observes the other recruits. Morrison groans loudly while Reyes takes a breath, holding it in, and fires. His shot rings through the air before barely nicking the side of the target.
“Better. You are getting closer,” Soap reassures.
“Does that mean--” Reyes looks up hopefully at the Sergeant.
“Reyes, laps. Now!” Ghost shouts, cutting him off.
Reyes drags himself up and makes for the track. From where he’s prone on the ground, Morrison fires, his shot hitting nothing but dirt. Before Ghost can even order him, Morrison stands begrudgingly before running after his fellow cadet.
“One may argue that you are a little too hard on them,” Soap teases as he comes up next to Ghost.
“They can think about how to hit the target as they run. Builds character,” Ghost reasons. It’s an easy persona for the two of them to fall into. Ghost being the hardass and Soap playing good cop.
All of the cadets in this group have left the range, each one running laps down on the field. The empty space gives Soap an idea. With a smirk, he approaches one of the sniper positions.
“Fancy a challenge, L.T?”
“What did you have in mind?” From behind his mask, Soap knows that the man is giving him this unamused look. Soap hums as he pretends to think about it.
“Thirty seconds. Ten targets.” Ghost rolls his eyes.
“That supposed to be hard?” Ghost steps up to Soap as he rises to the challenge.
“Let’s just say that I think you’ll have a hard time performing under the pressure,” Soap goades, his eyes narrow. Ghost shakes his head before leaning into Soap’s space.
“Trust me, you’ll hear no complaints about my performance.” Ghost’s voice is so low it sounds like it rumbles out of his chest. Soap’s gut flares hot at the implication. He turns away from the Lieutenant, before taking up his position prone on the ground. He picks up the gun and lines up the scope with his first target.
“Ready?” Ghost has a stopwatch in hand.
“Call it.”
“Fire at will.” Soap takes a centering breath before letting his eyes lock onto the target down range and fires.
He shoots with practised ease. His first couple of shots go easy. Soap lines up the shot before pulling the trigger. When he hears the familiar sound of a bullet impacting the target, he drags his scope away and finds the next one.
“That’s it, Johnny.” Soap feels his breath hitch, he shakes it off.
After six perfect shots, Soap reloads with practised efficiency. He reaches for a fresh mag and easily swaps the empty one out. He can feel the seconds counting down. With the sniper reloaded, Soap finds his next target.
“Ten seconds.” Soap steels himself and fires. The next three shots he lands easily, but he’s almost out of time. In a rush, he lines up the last shot and fires. But no sound of hitting the target comes. He missed. At the last second, Soap lines up again and fires. Just as the timer goes off, his bullet hits the last target.
“Still think you got me beat, L.T?” Soap smiles wide before looking at Ghost as he gets back to his feet. The man just shrugs half heartedly before tossing the timer over to Soap. Ghost drops to his knees before him, a sight that Soap has to tear his eyes away from quickly.
Ghost gets down onto his stomach before picking up the gun. He checks the loaded mag before he goes to tweak the sights on the scope.
“Don’t have all day, Princess,” Soap teases. Ghost stops fidgeting with the sniper before settling in, resting his eye against the scope.
“On your mark then.”
“Fire.” As soon as the words leave Soap’s mouth, Ghost fires his first shot. The bullet hits the target. But there’s no reprieve. The man doesn’t stop. With effortless precision, Ghost lines up again and again before firing. Each bullet landing true. He moves on without confirming each hit like there’s no way in hell he’d ever miss a shot. In no time, he’s reloading the magazine before he starts firing again.
Damn. He’s good. Not just really good, but flawless.
Ghost makes the whole thing look easy for him. Like it’s not even a challenge.
With ten seconds remaining, Ghost has hit all ten targets but he doesn’t stop there. He moves like a machine. He keeps shooting until every single bullet left in his mag has found its target down range. As Ghost sets the rifle down to get back to his feet, the timer goes off in Soap’s hands.
“Thought you said you could keep up?” Soap’s face flares red hot with jealousy. Before he can even think of a witty retort to toss back at Ghost, some cadets come jogging back up to the range.
Soap pulls away, but he knows that he isn’t going to let this one go.
-------
“Come on. Again.”
They are at the gym now. Sparring practice. Soap’s entire body is beaten and bruised, his shirt is completely saturated with sweat. Ghost has been relentless. Everytime they go at each other, the Lieutenant gets him in a hold in only a couple of moves. This time, he had heaved Soap off his feet before slamming him into the mat below.
Every part of his body aches and complains as he gets back to his feet. They’ve been sparring with each other for the past hour. Soap is tired, a bit sloppy at this point, but he is not giving up. On the other side of the ring, Ghost looks like he’s barely even broken a sweat.
“Johnny, I think you’ve had enough,” Ghost reasons, the fight inside of him long gone. He looks over at Soap with thinly veiled concern.
“No. No. I can take it. One more.” Soap drops his chin and raises his arms as he gets into his starting position.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Ghost gets ready and matches his move. They are locked in a stand still as they both circle each other on the mat.
For all the other fights, Soap made the first move, hoping that his speed and sheer strength would be enough to get the upper hand on Ghost, but every time it backfired. Ghost had been able to use his speed against him, redirecting his energy to disarm him.
It’s driving Soap crazy. How could every time they go head to head, every time they fight like this, Ghost is always one step ahead of him. He has to slip up somewhere.
Soap keeps himself light on his feet as he shifts around the mat, waiting for Ghost’s move. As they circle, Ghost feigns a couple times, trying to spur Soap into attacking first. But he doesn’t budge. Soap lets out a cocky smirk.
“You going easy on me, Ghosty?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Before he even finishes speaking, Ghost lunges into action. He sends out a wide strike that Soap redirects easily, but he misses the second punch that Ghost lands against his ribs. Soap grunts through the pain as his body absorbs the hit.
He reaches out to grab at Ghost's side, but the man just twists out of his reach before delivering another hard jab to his stomach. Soap could groan from the pain. He tries to sweep Ghost's legs out from under him but he misses. With his leg outstretched, Ghost goes to make a grab for it, dropping his guard. Soap sees his shot.
He gets his feet back under him and reels back before unleashing a mean hook meant for Ghost’s head. At the last second, the man manages to block.
“Oh, we are playing dirty now?” Ghost shouts back before lunging. His arms wrap around Soap’s middle as he tackles him down to the mat. Soap lands on his back but doesn’t let himself stay down. They scramble around on the floor, both fighting for control.
“Talk a big game and this is all you have to show for it?” Soap sees red. Ghost tries to keep him pinned down but he twists out of his grip.
“You’re not gonna beat me,” Soap snarls before making his play.
He wrestles his way on top as he tries to pin Ghost, chest down, to the mat. He scrambles as he tries to get the other man in a choke, but it’s messy. He’s flailing. In a last ditch effort, he puts more of his weight into, letting his body press Ghost down. As his chest finds Ghost’s back, both of their bodies become flush with the other.
Soap freezes. As he tries to get a better grip, he grinds his cock directly into Ghost’s ass. He feels the other man still beneath him. Soap’s throat goes bone dry.
“Really, Johnny?”
Before Soap can register what’s happening, he’s flipped. Ghost gets out from under his grasp and gets him in a chokehold. Soap tries to fight it, his legs flailing as they try to get any kind of leverage. His hands claw at the thick forearm Ghost has wrapped around his neck.
They are so close like this, Soap swears he can feel the faint warmth of Ghost's breath against the side of his face. In a deep voice, Ghost speaks right into the shell of his ear.
“Give up,” Ghost growls, “You can’t win.”
He squeezes tighter. Soap can feel his vision growing a bit soft at the edges as he thrashes.
“Tap out.” Soap keeps fighting but feels his body going limp, his energy leaving him. Right before everything goes dark, the pressure around his throat gives and he’s pushed away. Soap rolls onto his front and coughs as his lungs suck in greedy gulps of air.
“Hit the showers, Sergeant.”
When Soap looks up next, Ghost is already gone. The only thing left is Soap stewing in his defeat as he heaves for air on the mat. Some of the other gym goers are watching him, waiting to see what happens next. Fucking vultures. Soap hauls himself to his feet before stumbling off to the locker room.
He slams the door of his locker shut after he’s stripped out of all his clothes. The locker room is usually dark and dank, but currently the entire room is awash with steam. As Soap makes his way over to the communal showers, Soap spots a couple of recruits getting cleaned up after their own workouts.
Not in the mood for their shit, Soap says nothing to them, instead choosing one of the open showers on the far wall. He sets the knob to scalding before stepping under the warm spray.
He must’ve been more quiet than he thought because the pair keep chatting like no one else is around.
“Fuck, I’m not gay. But I’d let that guy suck me off any day.” Soap freezes in his tracks.
“You really think it’s a guy?” Another voice asks.
“Most definitely! No chick sucks cock like that.” Soap feels his throat go tight. With slow movements, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention, Soap looks over at the in use showers. There are two recruits showering in accompanying stalls that Soap doesn’t recognize. The first one to speak is a taller guy with broad shoulders and light hair. The other one is a bit shorter with shaggy hair and freckles. They look familiar, like Soap has seen them around, but he doesn’t know their names.
“This guy. He loves it, man,” the taller one continues as he washes soap from his hair, “Like, he’s fucking addicted to it. He just can’t get enough.”
“I don’t know. It sounds good but isn’t it a bit risky?” The second guy reasons.
“No way! It’s completely anonymous. You can’t even see him from inside the stall.”
That makes Soap pause. He’s no stranger to this type of thing. Glory holes, cruising, anonymous sex. Whenever he’s off base on shore leave, he likes to mess around. It’s just easier that way. No small talk, no awkward dates. It just cuts right to the chase: sex.
But something like that on base? Now that’s an entirely different ball game.
Soap tries to listen in over the sound of blood rushing through his ears.
“Wow, I can’t believe that brass hasn’t patched it up yet,” the second voice adds.
“They’d be denying the world some of the best head around. Trust me. Nobody sucks cock like this guy. His throat is fucking ‘preme.”
Now, didn’t that sound like the best stress relief known to man? Soap can feel that familiar feeling of pleasure as it simmers in his gut. His cock twitches. Soap prays that these guys are dumb enough to let the location of this secret spot slip.
“Alright, alright. How do I set it up?”
“Storage building, second level bathroom in the eastern corridor. He’s there most nights of the week.”
Hook.
Line.
Sinker.
Soap has to smother the smirk that spreads across his lips.
The water on the other side of the room shuts off. The two recruits towel off before making their way back to the rows of lockers. Soap keeps his eyes glued on the tiles before him as they pass.
As they get dressed, the two go back and forth about nothing in particular. Shortly after, the pair leave and Soap is blessedly alone. He lets out a groan before reaching down for his hard cock, giving himself a squeeze.
Fuck. He's more pent up than he thought.
But is he desperate enough to go to a glory hole on base?
See, Soap is no prude. He’s picked up guys and chicks in parking lots, gay bar bathrooms, you name it. But whenever he gets called in for a job, he drops it all, too scared to try any of it when he’s at work.
But this is different.
A glory hole is completely anonymous. The wall separating you and your partner certainly makes things easier, no chance of being recognized. It’s one of those minal risk, high reward kind of scenarios. A pretty safe bet to get some much needed relief. At a base level, Soap knows that this is risky, but there is certainly a part of himself that is curious.
Plus this whole thing with Ghost is really getting to him. It’s equal parts pissing him off and riling him up at the same time. Maybe this constant competition with his Lieutenant is developing into something else.
As close as the two of them are, Ghost still has his mysteries. He’s never talked about partners or hook ups in the past. As much as Soap has poked and prodded on the subject, Ghost has remained tight lipped. There was the one day when his balaklava had rode up revealing a hickey on his neck that Soap most definitely wasn’t over thinking right now.
He palms himself lazily as he thinks on it.
Suddenly, Soap gets hit with this beautiful daydream. It’s this image of Ghost, hands holding on tight to the top of a bathroom stall with his pants hanging from his hips. His mask is rolled up and his mouth is pulled tight as he tries to keep his composure. Ghost has his cock out as he fucks relentlessly into the crude hole carved into a stall divider. His hips move erratically as he chases his release.
The fantasy before him leaves Soap hard and wanting.
Would Ghost use something like that? Probably not, but the chance isn't zero. Soap knows his chances of his Lietenant are low to none, but maybe fucking the same mouth as Ghost is enough. It’ll be the closest he’ll ever get to having the man.
And that does dangerous things to Soap’s reasoning skills.
With a grunt, Soap turns the shower from burning to freezing cold. After a couple of icy minutes under the spray, Soap steps out of the shower and starts setting up his plan for the rest of the evening.
-------
Soap waits till after Last Post sounds to make his way over to the storage building. The base is quiet for the most part, the only people out are the officers doing rounds. He navigates past them without any issue. In no time, Soap uses his ID to swipe inside, shutting the door quickly behind him.
The halls inside the storage building are deserted and almost eerily silent. The only sound is the echoing of his own boots as he heads to the second floor. As he makes his way to the east corridor, Soap starts to hear hushed voices and the sound of boots as they come closer.
He looks around in a rush as the soldiers round the corner. Just before he’s spotted, Soap ducks into an open office. He keeps the door creaked open a bit and peers out as the soldiers pass. He recognizes them both. One of them is the recruit Reyes from the shooting range earlier and the other is the shorter soldier from the locker room.
Soap doesn’t think too much of it until he sees that Reyes is still doing up his belt and re-tucking his shirt into his pants.
Ah, so he is in the right place. That’s good.
He lets them make their way down the hall and out to the stairs before stepping out of his hiding spot. Soap checks that the hall is clear once more before moving in the direction the two just came from.
When he rounds the corner, he’s met with an empty hallway illuminated almost completely by streetlight from the lamp outside. He spots the door for the bathroom almost immediately.
He pushes the door open and steps inside, the door swings closed behind him. The room is awash with green fluorescent light, but only one of the bulbs is working making the space dim. It’s a small bathroom with barely enough space for the two stalls and a sink. One of the stalls has the door firmly closed but the door for the other one is swung wide open.
Soap is almost convinced that he’s all alone in there and that he’d missed his chance. He’s just about to turn on his heel and leave but then he hears the rustling of clothes from the occupied stall. Movement.
Soap reminds himself how to walk as he enters the open stall and locks the door behind him.
That’s when he sees it.
The hastily cut hole in the stall partition. The edges of which are jagged from whatever blade was used to carve this thing in the first place, but the sharp parts are all covered with duct tape. There’s scrawling graffiti and writing all over the wall here. Words like: best throat on base, grade A hole, thank you for YOUR service. There’s even a sloppily written phone number there with the pleading words of ‘call me for a good time.’ Soap rolls his eyes.
God, when did the soldiers on base get so shameless.
Or maybe they all were always like that but just better at hiding it.
Soap’s not one to talk either. He’s here isn’t he?
Soap lets his knuckles knock sharply against the divider, two solid taps to let the person on the other side know that he’s there. It takes a couple of seconds but all he hears in reply is one solid thud. Slowly a gloved hand appears in the hole, with two fingers up gesturing for him to come closer.
It’s a confirmation. A signal. A ‘ready when you are.’
It’s go time.
With deft fingers, Soap undoes his buckle, pulling his pants down just far enough to pull out his cock. He’s not sure at what point in the walk over it happened, but he’s painfully hard now. He gives himself a couple of cursory strokes, letting his bare palm drag the pre-come leaking from his tip all around his shaft. With a gentle sigh, Soap lines himself up with the glory hole before slowly feeding his cock through.
Nothing happens at first, but he can feel the eyes on him, calculating and appraising. Then a big gloved hand wraps around his shaft. Soap lets this airy sound fall from his lips at that first touch.
He’s not shy about his size at all. In fact he knows for a fact that he’s on the bigger side as far as dicks go. But this hand on him is huge, almost like it’s engulfing him completely. The hand gives him a couple of tight pumps.
The partition between the stalls doesn't reach all the way to the floor or the ceiling. There's about a foot space between the bottom of the barrier and where the floor is. Soap only notices it because he watches as two thick thighs poke out from the gap as the mystery man drops to his knees. That's when Soap feels the first touch of a warm, wet tongue as it swirls around his tip before sliding the head inside.
“That’s it. Just like that,” Soap groans, he can’t help as the sound tumbles out of his chest.
For a moment, the mouth on him freezes before pulling off completely. A couple weighted seconds pass between them as Soap waits for the mouth to return. But it never comes.
“Come on, don’t get shy on me now.”
A beat goes by, then that mouth is back on him again. Soap can’t make anything out about the man on the other side of the barrier but he does catch a flash of scarred lips as they lavish kisses along the side of his shaft. When the man kisses all the way up to his tip, his lips part and Soap sinks inside again.
“There we go, baby.” He has his hands pressed flush to the wall as he presses his hips directly into the waiting mouth.
He feels the man bob his head, toying with the tip, letting it slide in and out of his mouth. Soon enough, the man pushes in till Soap’s cock is resting at the tight entrance of his throat. But the man doesn’t move, he holds steady, letting Soap feel how the top of his throat constricts around him.
“You can take me deeper. Keep going,” Soap coos. All he hears in response is a low grunt.
Slowly the man lets Soap’s cock slide in deeper and deeper. It slides past the tight muscle before nestling into the channel of his throat. The man holds himself there until he gags before pulling off. He sucks around the shaft in his mouth for a couple moves before forcing it back into his throat.
“Don’t stop until I’m buried all the way down.” Soap thinks that he has been ignored at first when the man keeps the motion the same but then he presses in closer and sinks all the way down on Soap’s cock. The stranger's nose is crushed against Soap’s stomach. When the man swallows around him completely, Soap has to keep himself from bucking his hips. The stranger pulls off and Soap can clearly hear the airy moan that spills out.
“Please,” a gravelly voice begs.
Now it’s Soap’s turn to pause. He’d recognize that voice anywhere.
But that can’t be right.
Soap gets pulled out of his thoughts when the man speaks again.
“Please fuck my face.” Now that voice, that’s unmistakable. Soap must be hornier than he originally thought if his mind is assigning Ghost’s voice to the pleas of a random man.
Still, it mixes in deliciously with Soap’s fantasies.
“Fuck!” He grips his hands over the top of the stall before pulling his hips back and thrusting forward. His cock sinks into the perfect heat of that waiting mouth. Soap keeps pushing in until the man on the other side moans, the sound sending vibrations all the way down to the base of his shaft.
Soap sets a hard pace working his cock in and out of Gho-- the man’s mouth. The friction is perfect, a delicious repetitive pop every time his cock head forces its way into the man’s throat.
The soldier on the other side of this barrier is no stranger to sucking cock in the slightest. He’s a pro.
And Soap is losing his head over it. He feels himself starting to overheat. In a quick move, he pulls up the bottom of his shirt until he can wedge it behind his head so his chest is now exposed.
“You love this, don’t you? You’re getting off on it?” Soap asks as he moves. He can’t hear the man’s response over the debauched noises but Soap feels how he nods furiously. Soap watches as the little bit of thighs he can see from below buck into the air, chasing against any kind of friction.
“That’s ok, baby. You can like it. I love knowing that this is making you feel good.” He fucks into the mans throat hard and a loud whine echoes through the room. A sick smirk spreads across his face.
“I want to hear you. Show me how good I’m making you feel.” With that, Soap sticks his boot out in between the splayed thighs at his feet. An offering.
Without pause, the man shuffles closer revealing all black standard issue cargos stretched over thick thighs. It takes a moment to get settled but when he does, the man is able to press his crotch directly into the sole of the offered boot. The reaction is instantaneous as the man moans freely, the sound makes Soap keen.
“There you go.” The partition starts to rattle in its screws as Soap increases the speed of his thrusts. His pace is unforgiving now as he takes his pleasure. The man on the other side of the wall is relentless, eating up every single ounce of what Soap is offering up.
“What a perfect hole. Just a throat to be used. Don’t stop.” There’s a sharp clattering sound as his belt bangs against the partition with each move. As Soap fucks him, the man swallows around his shaft. It tears a wounded sound from his chest.
Soap feels a hand trail out under the stall and grab the back of his shin, holding his foot closer as the man grinds against him. From the thick rubber sole of his boot, Soap can feel the hard and heavy length of the man’s cock.
“Fuck, baby! Just like that. You feel so good like this.” At the praise, the man on the other side starts bobbing his head even more, meeting Soap’s thrusts in the middle. He pushes his head closer and closer till his mouth is pressed right against the glory hole. It’s the closest they can be with the partition between them.
Now, Soap’s thrusts no longer hit the man’s mouth, instead fucking his throat entirely. Every deep push and drag has Soap’s cock rubbing against the tight walls of his throat. It’s so fucking good.
Soap can feel his balls growing tighter as his pleasure threatens to boil over.
“You’re going to make me come. That’s what you want? You want me to fuck my come down your throat?” He feels the man nod against him before swallowing hard. The man gags then gags again, but he doesn’t pull off, holding himself in place for Soap to use, letting the tight spasm of his throat work over Soap’s cock.
With one final swallow, Soap comes hard. He feels his shaft pulse as his orgasm crashes over him, his come shooting deep. Soap doesn’t let his hips slow, instead acting directly on his promise, fucking his spend in the man’s throat.
The man doesn’t move on the other side, instead holding his mouth in close. Soap’s cock is still buried inside as it slowly softens. As it does, the man sucks lazily at the shaft until the cock finally falls from his mouth.
The hard cock grinding into his sole keeps moving in jerky thrusts. The frantic moves make Soap chuckle as he comes down slowly from the high. He takes his foot away causing the man to whine. With a heaving breath Soap pulls his shirt off completely, before wadding it up and shoving it into the opening. With the glory hole temporarily sealed, Soap sinks to his knees.
“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to sneak a peek at yah,” Soap soothes, “Just, let me return the favor.” He brings his hands up to rest on the massive thighs spread out before him. When the man catches on to what Soap’s offering, he shuffles closer until he can get his hips under the barrier.
With his bottom half on display, Soap runs his hands up strong legs until massaging at the obvious tent in the man’s jeans. Before he can feel him up for too long, the stranger sits back and wrestles his belt open and pulling his cock out before positioning himself back in Soap’s reach. The desperate move makes Soap chuckle.
“Pent up, huh?” Soap says with a laugh, “Yeah, I bet.” He takes the flushed cock before him in hand and gives it a slow stroke. The man’s cock is not small, in fact, it's rather the opposite. The shaft feels huge in Soap’s hand.
“Did none of the other guys offer to get you off in return?” Soap asks but is met with silence. He waits but no response comes.
“Shy? That’s alright. I like ‘em quiet.” Soap drags his hand back before bringing it up to his mouth and spitting into his open palm. When he brings it back to the man’s cock, the glide is wet and smooth.
“How about this, you give me one knock for yes and two no?” This time when Soap pauses, he’s met with a light tap from the other side.
“There you go. So, did anyone try and return the favor?” One tap. Soap makes a knowing sound.
“Ah. So, did you get hard again or am I just special?” Two taps. The latter, Soap assumes.
“That right? You said no to everyone else but you want me to be the one to get you off?” It takes a moment but there's a soft singular knock.
Soap drags his other hand up and down the given thigh as his other hand jerks the man’s cock. He gives the man’s base a hard squeeze before working his palm over the tip roughly, twisting. The man lets out a loud moan as his hips buck.
“You like that?” One tap.
“Thought so. I want to make you feel good. Can you come from this?” This time there’s no pause, the knock comes out as more of a resounding thud. It makes Soap smile. He strokes the man’s cock faster, squeezing at the base each time he drops his hand.
Soap wants something to hold on to. With a slow hand, he brings his fingers from the man’s thigh up to his hip. When no reprimand comes, he moves back to paw at the stranger’s ass. He gives the muscle a hard squeeze as he forces the man’s hips into motion, forcing him to fuck his cock into Soap’s open hand.
The material of the tactical cargos is heavy and Soap can barely feel the heat of the body beneath. Looking for bare skin, Soap drags his hand up the man’s back before sneaking his fingers under the hem of what feels like a hoodie. The first touch of skin is like a shock to his system.
In a flash, the man grabs Soap’s hand hard and pushes it back under the partition. The move is followed by two hard taps.
“Alright, I read you loud and clear, big guy.” Soap hopes the pout on his face doesn’t come across in his tone. The mood settles again as Soap works over the man’s shaft. With each touch, the man bucks his hips.
“Do you want to touch me?” Soap asks curiously. This response is slower, but the single knock is clear.
“Then give me your hand.” Slowly a large gloved hand reaches under the stall. The forearm is covered in a dark sweatshirt. Soap uses his other hand to pull the man closer till his fingers can touch along his stomach. The stranger is careful and slow with his exploration of Soap’s body, but he moves around freely, touching all of the bare skin he can reach.
Soap was right, his hands are big. He would ask the man to remove his gloves but he’s almost sure that would be an immediate no. As the man touches across his stomach, his thrusts become frantic as he fucks into Soap’s hand.
“Are you close?” One knock.
“Do you want to come for me?” One solid thud. Soap increases his pace and squeezes tighter. When the man comes, it’s with a stifled moan.
Shame. Soap wanted to hear the sounds the stranger made as he finished.
The man’s come shoots out of his tips as he comes all across Soap’s stomach. He’s moving his hips frantically as he chases this feeling.
In the high of the moment, Soap’s eyes are drawn downwards as the man smears his come into the skin of his stomach. As he moves, the sleeve of his sweatshirt rides up ever so slightly. Underneath the fabric lays pale skin and the dark spirals of an all too familiar arm tattoo.
Soap feels his breath hitch as his mind tries to run away with that information. It’s probably just a trick of the light. He shakes the fantasies from his mind as he stands.
Soap exits the stall quickly, going to the sink to wipe the come from his abdomen. With his stomach clean, he grabs his shirt from the partition and pulls it on. He leaves the bathroom with a rushed ‘thanks’ before heading out into the night.
-------
Soap sits out on a bench on the far side of the quad as he smokes cigarette after cigarette from the pack he always keeps on him. His foot is bouncing restlessly as he waits. Every second is agony as the minutes tick by. From his vantage point, Soap has a clear view of the building he had just left.
An hour has passed and no one has come in or out. He’s about to call a quits and put an end to an already crazy night when he spots something. He sees a dark shadow step out of the far side door. He’s too far to get a clear ID, but as he watches the figure move, Soap realizes he doesn’t need it.
He could recognize that figure blind and in the dark.
He didn’t need any further confirmation.