Ghost secretly pines for the newest member of Task Force 141 - John Soap MacTavish. He keeps his feelings hidden from everyone - especially Soap. But when Soap has an incident out in the field, Ghost's secret is laid bare for all to see.
A/N: Did I come up with this while watching yet another MW II play through at two in the morning? Maaaaybe.
Alright then, Soap. It's your turn to get the next round from the bar."
Soap pointed at Gaz. "Don't think I didn't notice we skipped over your turn being the bar maid," he said with a mock glare at his friend.
Gaz opened his eyes wide, staring up at Soap in complete innocence as he got to his feet.
Ghost shook his head at the two sergeants. "I'll go with you," he said to Soap as he rose from the table.
As they made their way over to the bar, Ghost noted all of the eyes that followed Soap. Those eyes tracked over the close-fitting jeans on thick, powerful thighs and moved up to where they nipped in at his tight waist. They took in the T-shirt that clung to his wide chest, short sleeves revealing his firm biceps. And they lingered on his smile as he greeted people he knew in the crowd of soldiers and civilians.
Tonight, Soap's eyes sparkled more than usual, his lips were a deeper shade of pink, and there was a slightly pronounced sway in his hips. Ghost inhaled. And he smelled delicious. Even through the material of his balaclava and with the multitude of other smells in the bar, he could make out Soap's luscious cinnamon scent. Soap was in pre-heat and the signs of it drew even more attention to the handsome, cheery Scot than usual. Ghost stayed close behind him to dissuade anyone from attempting to approach the omega as he cut his way through the press of people.
Soap bellied up to the bar. The guy in the spot next to him smiled with open delight when he saw Soap. He leaned over, prepared to move in close. Then, Ghost moved into his line of sight. The smile instantly dropped from his face and he scooted back to his original position. Ghost slid into the narrow space he left behind, deftly putting himself between Soap and the barfly. They were so close the sleeve of his hoodie brushed Soap's bare arm. Soap turned to look up at him.
"You didn't have to come with me, Lt. I could have carried the drinks on my own."
"Don't mind helping you," Ghost said.
Soap smiled, his deep blue eyes shining with humor.
"You're a good one, Lt. Behind that mask, beneath your gruff Manc accent, and deep deep down inside the shadows of your hood, you're a big old softie."
Ghost rolled his eyes. "Stop chattering and order the drinks, Johnny."
As Johnny gave the bartender their order, Ghost stayed in his spot, body angled to partially shield Soap from the room full of people at his back. Ghost didn't question his need to stay by Johnny's side. He just knew that Johnny was in pre-heat and he needed to keep their pack's omega safe. He wouldn't let anyone ogle Soap without realizing that looking was all they'd ever do, because Ghost was there to protect him. No one would touch Johnny because Johnny was his-.
No. He cut off that sentence then shifted it into a more respectable conclusion. Johnny was his packmate.
"Here you go, Ghost."
Ghost got out of his head and accepted the two glasses Soap handed him. He followed Soap back to the table where Gaz and Price waited, again staying protectively close.
At the table, he sat down and handed Price his cognac. Ghost slipped his mask down to his chin so he could sip on his bourbon. This would be his last drink of the night. He had to leave because Soap’s pre-heat triggered his rut if he was around him for too long. No one knew of the issue except for Price, who he'd told the first time it happened. His captain hadn't questioned him - merely given him permission to disappear for a few days. Instead of going to the alpha house where most alpha's on base spent their ruts, he’d packed up supplies and gone into the woods to camp until it was over.
He’d thought the triggered rut was a one-time fluke - his body needing to adjust to the addition of an omega to their team. Then it happened again.
The next time Soap started his pre-heat, Ghost was plagued with restlessness. And he was irritable whenever he wasn't near Soap. But when he was in the omega's presence, he ended up with a rock hard erection that pulsed whenever he heard Soap's voice or caught a whiff of his warm, sultry pre-heat scent.
When the symptoms advanced to a point where he could no longer ignore them, he'd slipped into the bathroom. After whipping off his mask, he'd stared at himself in the mirror, taking in the hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, the blown-wide pupils, and the flags of color on his otherwise pale cheeks. Unable to believe it was happening for a second time, he'd muttered, What the fuck, before he took a cold shower. But the icy spray beating down on his skin did nothing to alleviate the rut symptoms.
Desperate to make it all stop, he'd jerked himself off in the shower. Unfortunately, that made it worse. Even after his release, his cock stayed hard, balls aching, knot throbbing as visions of Soap, flat on his back in Ghost's bed, muscled thighs spread wide to show off his slick hole played in his head. Finally accepting he was going into another unexpected rut, he'd groaned out a curse, stumbling from the shower to send Price a text.
Happening again. Need to leave.
He'd packed a bag, same as last time. In the common room, he'd held his breath as he passed Soap so he wouldn't breathe in his scent on the way out, giving a silent wave to him and Gaz as a goodbye. Again he'd spent three days in the woods, in full rut, sweating it out on his own with a bottle of lube and a tight fist. He'd returned to base with no one the wiser about why he'd left, Price having put out that he'd had a solo mission to complete.
From then on, he made a point to get away from Soap before the omega fell too deep into his pre-heat to keep his own body from responding with a rut. So far, the plan was working. He hadn't had a rut during Soap's last few heats and after he left tonight, hopefully he wouldn't have one this time either. Knowing he had a plan, Ghost felt safe sitting there listening to Soap talk about his first time using C-4 out in the field, even with that delicious pre-heat scent teasing his nose.
At the soft call of his name, he flicked his gaze over to their captain. He knew why Price had called his name. It was time for him to go. But Ghost wasn't ready to leave. Not yet. “A few more minutes, Captain.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Price gave him a nod.
With permission granted, Ghost lingered for another five minutes, listening to Soap finish the end of his tale. But eventually he had to go. He was cutting it too close - he could tell from the heat that tugged behind his navel whenever Soap swung those beautiful eyes on him.
Ghost rose from his seat and tossed enough bills on the table to cover their last round. Before he could leave, Soap reached up and caught his wrist. Ghost forced himself not to react to the warm fingers encircling the strip of bare skin between his pushed up sleeve and his glove.
“Where are you going?” Soap asked.
“I have a meeting to get to.”
"This late at night?"
"It's a very clandestine meeting. Can only happen in the dark."
"You're not slipping off to meet a lover are you?"
Soap's voice was teasing, but something sharp glinted in his eyes when he asked the question.
"No, I'm not. It's just a regular old boring meeting. Probably could have been an email. I’ll see you when you get back.”
“Wait, you’re going to be gone that long? Did you get me a present?”
Ghost tilted his head to the side in question. “What makes you think I got you anything?"
Soap stuck out his lips in a pout. He was a grown man, but somehow the expression was still adorable on him.
“Fine. You didn't have to I was just wondering.”
Ghost grinned. He had gotten Johnny a gift, he just liked to tease him. They all babied their pack’s omega when it was time for his quarterly heat. Gaz brought him his favorite sweets and the two sat and ate them until their bellies ached. Price picked up cheap puzzle books from the off-base corner store. Their pack alpha would spend time with Soap while they worked on the puzzles. Ghost usually bought him something soft - a plushie, a novelty pillow, once even a cozy throw blanket. Even members from their wider pack - the 141 support team - brought him trinkets or gave him extra pats on the back when they passed by him on base. Any other time Soap would kick their asses for treating him so softly. But in his pre-heat, he appreciated the attention from his pack mates.
“You know I got you something, you brat. I didn’t realize we’d be out so late that I’d have to leave before we returned to our barracks so I could give it to you. It’s in my room. Go in and get it when you get back.”
Soap finally let him go. Although he appeared somewhat reluctant to do so. Ghost could still feel his warm touch on his skin as he nodded goodbye to their group and left the bar.
Since he was leaving before his body reacted to Soap, he didn't have to go and camp in the woods to ride out a rut. Instead, he did as he had for Soap's last three heats - he drove off base to a bluff overlooking the city. There was a small parking lot where people could sit and take in the view. The spot was mostly used by young people who wanted to make out. Ghost parked, shut off the engine and reclined the seat back. He would stay here until he received the all clear from Price - meaning Soap had checked into the omega house for his heat stay.
As Ghost stared out the windshield, he kept his mind carefully blank. He analyzed nearly everything in his life - his surroundings, infiltration tactics, other people. But he refused to analyze why being around Soap in his pre-heat sent him into a rut. As far as he was concerned, it was simply a biological reaction of his secondary gender due to their close proximity. He wasn't going to delve any deeper into it than that. He closed his eyes, settling in for the long wait until he received a call from the captain.
* * *
Soap left Gaz and Price at the bar while he returned to base and the 141 barrack. Inside, he made his way over to Ghost's room and opened the door. It felt strange to walk into Ghost's space - especially on his own. He’d only been in the room a few times. Most of their time together outside of work related hours was spent in the small common room or more often in the even smaller kitchen. As expected, the room was neat and organized. A small brown bag sat on the foot of his bed. Assuming that was his gift, Soap went over to pick up the bag and looked inside.
He huffed a laugh when he saw the gift. A small, bomb shaped plushie, with little metallic fabric wicks for arms and legs sewn onto its round body. A manic grin was stitched onto its face. Soap wondered where he'd found this thing. The little guy looked like something you'd win at a fair or get from an arcade claw machine.
Wherever Ghost had found the plushie, Soap was happy to have it. He’d never admit it to anyone, but he mostly wanted the gifts Ghost got him so that he could pull the alpha's scent into his heat nest. At some point, Ghost had to handle the items without his gloves on because they usually carried a trace of his cool, dark pine scent. Soap would place the plushie on his pillow and breathe in that scent - letting it comfort him as he went through his heat.
Pleased with his gift, Soap tucked the mini stuffed bomb back into the bag. He turned to go, but something caught his eye. There was a T-shirt hanging over the back of Ghost's desk chair.
Soap knew he was alone. Still, he quickly glanced around the room before he went over to the desk. He reached out, letting his fingers brush over the soft material that had been on his lieutenant's body. Moving as if he was in a trance, he slowly picked up the shirt and brought it to his nose. He could tell immediately that the shirt had been recently worn. His heart pounding, Soap inhaled deeply, breathing in Ghost's scent. A moan rolled from his throat when he exhaled. That was so good. Not as good as burying his nose in his lieutenant's scent gland, but since that was never going to happen, this was a nice consolation prize.
With Ghost's scent curling in his nose, his body reacted, cock growing hard behind his jeans. What he wouldn't do to be covered in that scent. Dark pine and ice. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but after months of hiding his pining for the big alpha, he indulged himself for a few more deep breaths.
Even though Ghost had been covered from head to toe, Soap had been attracted to him the moment he looked into his dark, expressive eyes. That physical attraction combined with a healthy dose of hero worship had simmered under his skin for the longest time. He wasn't bothered by those feelings, and in fact assumed they would eventually fade into nothing more than respect, trust, and friendship. That wasn't what happened, however.
His feelings for Ghost had changed, but they'd grown and deepened, to where he was now half in love with the man and desperate to share even the smallest physical intimacy with him. There were too many nights where he'd resisted getting himself off while he pictured Ghost there in the bed with him - until he finally gave in and came while biting his lip to hold back from crying out Ghost's name. It was months of torture. So he would allow himself this.
After several long moments of just breathing in the scent of his lieutenant, Soap lowered the shirt from his face. Then, he stood there staring at the black tee.
He was torn. Ghost hadn't given him permission to take anything of his. And he didn't want to be that omega who stole things from his pack mates to take into his nest. But he had a chance to have Ghost's scent with him in his heat nest, full and rich, rather than the trace that lingered on the plushie he'd been gifted. If he wanted it, he needed to decide quickly, before the others returned.
With a sigh of regret, he put the shirt back where he'd found it and turned to go. He didn't have Ghost's permission to take it.
He made it all of two steps before he spun back, snatched the shirt off the chair, and rushed out of the room. But as soon as he closed the door behind him, the front door opened and Price walked in.
Soap froze like a startled deer as the captain's eyes went from the room he'd just walked out of to the shirt he clutched tightly in his fist. Busted. Caught red-handed. Resisting the urge to hide the black tee behind his back, Soap gulped, expecting to get a dressing down from his captain about respecting his teammate's boundaries and possessions. To his surprise however, Price didn't mention Soap's theft. He raised his eyes from the black T-shirt and pointedly didn't look at it again.
"Good night, Soap."
"Good night, sir."
Without saying another word, Price went into his bedroom and closed the door.
Relief washed over Soap, releasing him from his stiff posture. He escaped to his own room and shoved Ghost's shirt to the bottom of the bag he’d be taking with him to the heat house. The guilt from stealing it was still there, but stronger was the happiness that he'd have a piece of Ghost with him while he went through his heat.
* * *
Soap woke in the morning when the sky was barely gray with pre-dawn light. He was hot, his cock half-hard, and his scent flared all around him, heavy and thick. It was time for him to go.
With an aggravated curse, he got up and quickly dressed. He hated that he had to go through this shit four times a year. He'd skip having heats altogether if he could, but the military mandated regular heats and ruts for all personnel for their health.
His bag was already packed so he quietly left his room so as not to wake the others. But Price was already up. He sat at the kitchen table, a steaming cup of tea in front of him.
"Morning," Soap returned.
"Do you need me to walk over with you?"
"No, I'm okay."
"All right then. See you in a few days."
"See you, Captain."
Soap left, headed for the omega heat house. It was tucked back at the rear of the base - close to the private barracks the 141 shared. As he walked, he looked back over his shoulder. He wasn't surprised to see Price standing in the doorway to make sure he made it okay. Soap smiled. A good man, their captain.
* * *
Ghost woke before the sun rose. He got out of the Jeep and stretched, working out the soreness and kinks from sleeping in his vehicle all night. He groaned as his back popped, the sound loud in the still, quiet morning. Hungry and needing to piss, he got back in and started the engine, planning to swing by the corner market to use their bathroom and get something to eat.
"Might need to check into a hotel for the night for Soap's next pre-heat," he grumbled to himself.
Before he put on his seat belt, his phone beeped with a text notification. Ghost thumbed the phone open to read it. It was a message from Price.
With a sigh of relief, Ghost sent off a quick reply.
On my way back.
Ghost put the Jeep in gear and drove back to base.
* * *
At the heat house, Soap checked in, waiting as the military nurse verified all of his info. Her blunt nails tapped over the keyboard and she clicked the mouse a few times before she looked up at him with a polite smile.
"Okay, you're all set. You're on the second floor in room 215. Your next round of suppressants will be ready when you come out of it."
"Thank you, ma'am," Soap said as he accepted the plastic key card she handed him.
He took the elevator up and used the pass key he'd been given to enter his assigned room. The door closed and locked behind him. It wouldn't open again for the next forty-eight hours unless he hit the medical assistance button. The timed locks were a security measure. Staff didn't want anyone getting in to accost vulnerable omegas in heat and they didn't want the omegas roaming the building either.
Soap barely spared the room a glance. He'd never been in 215 before, but it was the same as all the others he'd used. Walls painted a soothing pale green. Full size bed with metal head and foot board, plastic cover on the mattress, and thin bedding that would all be tossed in the garbage when he was done. Soap hated the clinical, cold set up. But he was unmated and didn’t have a registered heat partner so this is what he had to work with.
He unpacked his bag, making a decidedly pathetic nest with the few items he'd brought - his own pillow, the bomb plushie, his favorite old and tattered SAS sweatshirt. For now, he left Ghost's shirt in his bag. Still feeling guilty over stealing it, he decided that he wouldn't use the tee unless absolutely necessary. The nest made, he stripped down so he didn't get his clothes soiled with sweat, slick, and cum. Impatient to get it over with, he stretched out naked on the bed and waited for his heat to fully start.
* * *
After showering and having breakfast, Ghost went about his day as usual. He worked out, supervised drills, sat in meetings. Through it all, there was a low buzz of something itching just beneath his skin. The feeling made him more gruff than usual and everyone he encountered gave him a wide berth.
Once his duties for the day were over, Ghost left main HQ and set off across the vast concrete expanse of the base. As he walked back to the 141 barracks, his eyes were drawn to the heat house. Soap was somewhere inside that building. The omega house was well-protected, with highly advanced security measures on every level. But those measures were nothing he couldn't easily bypass. Ghost slowed, almost to a stop. He could break in, steal Soap away, and take him somewhere private. Just the two of them.
Ghost yanked his gaze away from the ugly, gray building and kept walking. Fucking hell. What was wrong with him? Maybe he should have left last night when Price signaled for him to. Clearly those extra few minutes had put him in a headspace that was too close to rut brain for comfort.
Inside their quarters, he went to the kitchen and grabbed a can of Cola from the fridge. A cold drink would help clear his head. He noted the house was quiet as he rolled up his balaclava and chugged the first half of the cool beverage. Price was in meetings and he didn't know where Gaz was.
He sat down to finish the rest of the drink, but even here he wasn't calm. In fact, his agitation worsened. His omega was out there, suffering his heat alone. Why was he here when he should be with Johnny taking care of him? His mind started to go a little fuzzy around the edges as he sipped the rest of the soda. He should be giving his omega what he needed, using his body to satisfy Soap over and over again until his heat finally broke.
As if from a distance, he heard the crunch of metal and realized he was squeezing the soda can.
His cock twitched and he restlessly shifted in the chair. If he were with Soap right now, he would stroke his hands all over Soap's firm, broad body. Petting him, soothing him while he eased his cock into his omega's tight, wet entrance.
No. Not his omega. Not like that. They were a pack. That was it. Ghost forcefully reminded himself that this was simply a biological reaction. He was responding to pheremones. It was nature. Pure and simple. Cursing under his breath, Ghost closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his forehead, as if the motion would erase the illicit images of him fucking Soap while the omega writhed beneath him, sweaty and flushed from his heat, from his mind.
“I’ll take that.”
Ghost's eyes popped open in surprise at the voice. Gaz stood in front of him. He hadn't even realized the other alpha was in the room. So much for his deadly sense of awareness. “What?”
Ghost looked down at the can he held. He'd squeezed it so hard the sides touched and it was nearly broken in half. Good thing it was empty. He loosened his grip and Gaz plucked the crumpled can from his fist, replacing it with a fresh one.
Gaz tossed the can in the trash and joined Ghost at the table.
“So. You’re pretty gone for him.”
Ghost took a sip of his second soda, trying to keep his voice as cool as the drink when he replied. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Gaz leaned back in his chair, an amused smile curling his lips. “Please don’t insult my intelligence. I was top of my class.”
“In what area?" Ghost asked dryly. "Being nosy?”
"Nah, that's natural. Didn't need schooling for that. And don't need schooling to work my nose either. Going by the scent pouring off of you, you're a heartbeat away from going into a rut. I wonder why that is?" He tilted his head to the side, frowning as though he were in deep thought. "Maybe it has something to do with your favorite Scotsman who just so happens to be in heat?"
Ghost glared at the handsome young sergeant. “We need more respect for superiors in this damn unit.”
“If I respected you much more than I already do, I’d be worshiping at your feet. But that’s Soap’s job, eh?”
Ghost let a short growl rumble in his chest to show his annoyance.
Gaz threw his hands up with a laugh. “Okay, okay. I’m done teasing you, big guy. I'm not dumb enough to offer to spar with you while you're in this state, but if you want to work out to burn off that energy and keep your head clear, I'm game.”
The suggestion brought the first kernel of calm that Ghost had felt all day. A hard, punishing workout was exactly what he needed. He immediately stood up from the table. "Let's go then. We'll start with five reps of tire flips."
Gaz groaned. "Tire flips? Should have kept my mouth shut."
"No, you shouldn't have. I appreciate you snapping me out of...whatever that was."
"Hey, what are packmates for if not to tease you over your unbridled lust for another packmate?"
Ghost growled again, but it was light and mostly amused. "Respect, Sergeant."
"Of course, Lieutenant." Gaz straightened in his chair and gave a sharp salute. "Nothing but respect from here on out."
Ghost snorted. Somehow he doubted that.
As they headed for the training yard, a worry started to bloom in the back of Ghost's mind. Price knew about his struggles during Soap's heat since he'd informed him. But if Gaz knew too, that meant he wasn’t doing a good enough job of keeping his inappropriate thoughts about Soap during his heat hidden. He needed to do a better job of hiding his reaction before anyone else figured out his secret. Before Soap figured it out.
Oh, Ghost. Good luck with that secret, buddy. And Soap! You little thief.
Next chapter in about two weeks.