Work Text:
Things had changed immediately after that night.
Soap hadn't been sure of Ghost's interest in him, or anyone else really, until his body decided to take things into its hands at the worst time possible; it was a miracle he wasn't in a compromised state, didn't risk his team or his CO while his heat triggered and there was someone there to help him through it.
Ghost was there to help him through it.
I love you, he'd said right at the end, and Soap felt so full of emotions, that his confession followed right after. Love was a ridiculous thing to expect on duty, and yet it found him regardless; the subtle dance between them blurred into something entirely intimate. All those days, and nights, of second-guessing himself, repressing his feelings, holding himself back from tearing the walls between them, unsure about where it'd lead them — for things to culminate in messy, passionate shared confessions.
Simon Riley was perfect in maddening ways.
He gave Soap exactly what he wanted, eased the pain throughout the night, took care of him properly in the morning after and even got new suppressants for him to stabilise himself without prompt. The mission itself was seamless, the usual ordeal with Konni groups, Soap got a kiss before and after it; Ghost was oddly tactical about cornering him when others weren't looking, descending upon his lips like a man seeking heaven through him and leaving Soap with a knowing glint in his eyes afterwards.
He couldn't make heads or tails in those moments of closeness, often lost in how Ghost blindsided him with the kisses, completely distracting him with the sweetness of his lips, and yet there were moments where he managed to surprise him by grasping his vest tight and yanking him in for a deeper kiss.
Ghost would chuckle against his lips during then — more amused than anything — and let Soap have his way with him until the nature of their mission pulled them away.
There was a silent understanding between them to not let their newfound relationship come between missions, which worked well to not draw more attention than they already had.
Soap was whisked to Ghost's room the day they returned to base, allowed to make a home in his temporary den, and they had slept in each other's arms soundly. It went on like that until Soap had fully moved into his room and no one even raised an eyebrow about it. He was expecting some comment, at least acknowledgement or irritation from their superiors, maybe even punishment, but everyone treated Ghost's silent possessive claim over him like it was something they'd expected and anticipated from a mile away.
Soap tried to ask Garrick once, and all he got was, "With how you two act around each other? I'm surprised he didn't claim you sooner, mate."
And that was the end of that conversation.
They weren't bonded. But the way Ghost insistently scented him and bit the skin around the corners of his collar enough to leave marks and bruises spoke volumes. Whenever Soap brought that topic up in a conversation, he'd apologetically kiss his neck and whisper 'not yet', as if it physically pained him to deny him and he didn’t push after that.
Soap wasn't in a hurry. Everyone, including Ghost and those who saw them interact, understood that they were each other's. It had been a surprisingly normal relationship. He was allowed a front-row seat to see how loving and considerate Ghost could be. Not that he didn't enjoy the moments where he was rough, passionate and all-consuming, but it was a side of him he hadn’t expected.
Pleasant surprises all around; the more time he spent with Ghost, the more he fell in love. He accommodated Soap like it was second nature to him. His affection sprung from the tiniest details to the most reverent of confessions, very intentionally loving him, showing that he cared, offering himself and everything he had.
Soap hadn't been loved this deeply before, and he was left a bit lightheaded and drunk from all of it, spiralling deeper and madder every single day. It was hard not to. Ghost wasn't just hiding a pretty face behind the mask, he was also hiding the softest lover Soap ever had.
He was sure Ghost was it.
Simon Riley was the man he'd bond with for the rest of his life without the complications of his job, personality, and needs messing everything up in the process.
Soap didn't fit in the traditional omega standards, it had almost been infuriating trying to date and find his way around the impositions of his personal goals and what society expected from him; so much so that he had nearly given up on his prospects. He wasn't ready to 'settle' for someone he didn't feel right with. He wanted a proper relationship without compromising his choice of career and life plans, which was apparently far too much to ask from Alphas who showed their interest in the past.
Soap had drifted from relationship to relationship, trying to find the person who would accommodate him properly, only to be disappointed in the end. He chose to focus on his career after that, if there was someone meant for him, they would come to him in their own time, and if there wasn’t, maybe it was for the best.
He wasn't supposed to be infatuated this soon.
There had always been something about Ghost that made Soap want to prove himself in front of him. His quiet and closed-off demeanour had instantaneously drawn Soap's attention, curious to figure out what made the Alpha tick, and even more so when he subconsciously registered how capable Ghost was.
His instincts had already registered Ghost as a potential mate long before Soap entertained the thought and started wishing for it to be true. It was hard not to stare and harder not to crush on his superior when Ghost took out their enemies with merciless efficiency, the bulk of muscles enticingly covered from head to toe working with surprising agility, protecting the team, protecting him like it was nothing to him.
It was worse — so much worse when he finally saw his face in Las Almas. Devastating and handsome in the same breath, Simon Riley rendered him speechless, unable to do anything but drink in the sight of the scarred face of his Lieutenant, his insides twisting and turning with repressed need. He didn't act on it back then, simply couldn't because of the eyes around them, and there was a mission to focus on — a grave to fill.
The taste of betrayal was still fresh in his mouth and he was raring to get his hands on Graves.
There hadn't been an opportunity to address what happened after everything in Las Almas. Ghost was ever the enigmatic, keeping Soap guessing and guessing until fate forced both of their hands.
He couldn't have been happier with the outcome.
-
It was the evening after a successful mission. As per tradition, the whole task force, including the soldiers that accompanied them were going out to the local pub to drink to their heart's content. Victory as clean and swift as the day's outcome was rarely won considering the Konni groups they were dealing with, yet when Soap found Ghost making his way back to the base instead of outside, he had to stop him in his tracks.
"Johnny," Ghost acknowledged, looking down at him and the path he blocked with a casual tilt of his head. Soap huffed, narrowing his eyes; as if he didn’t know why he was being stopped.
"You're not joinin' us?" Soap asked, his lips tugging down a frown.
Ghost's eyes creased at the corners, but he nodded in affirmative, "Don't get too drunk, I have something to discuss when you're back."
"Do your paperwork later." Soap slipped his fingers into the hoops of his belt, blinking up innocently at him before he tugged harshly. Their fronts were flushed against each other in an instant and he heard Ghost's breath hitch ever so softly.
He was looking at Soap with that addicting, half-lidded stare, making desire churn like molten heat in his stomach. "Making me forgo my duties, Sergeant?"
Soap licked his lips, watching Ghost’s eyes follow his tongue keenly. "I won't go, then."
"You'll sit there watching me shift through documents for hours?" Ghost asked, cocking his head to the side with narrowed eyes. There it was, that stubbornness that previously stood as a wall between them. Soap wasn’t deterred, he knew if there was one person who could break through, it was him.
Soap grinned with madness in his teeth.
"I could sit on something else," he purred, leaning up to brush his chest against his future mate's. Ghost’s eyes flickered to his neck, and then to his gland and back to his wild eyes, darkness swirling tightly around the golden brown.
"Johnny,” he warned in a low voice.
"What?" Soap shifted his weight, tightening his hold on his fatigues. "It's not like you wouldn't be able to do your work if I'm sittin’ on your cock."
Ghost visibly froze for a few seconds, a strangled noise slipping out of the mask as he shook his head.
No?
"I'll need to focus." He sounded firmer, more commanding officer than his partner, which made Soap all the more curious about what was occupying his time if he was willing to go to such an extent to avoid spending time with him.
Ghost hunched close enough to invade the space between them, his scent thick and undeniably alluring, meant to overwhelm and claim the space around them to remind him who was in charge. A classic dominance tactic, he was posturing to assert his control, to remind him to not overstep.
Soap took greedy gulps regardless of its intent, a purr building up in his chest — the strategy wasn’t going to work when he was addicted to his scent instead of being intimidated by it.
He sighed in defeat. "It's urgent."
"If you're that worried about being distracted, maybe you can use my mouth while you—" Soap started, his words forced to an abrupt halt when Ghost silenced him by wrapping a gloved hand tightly over the said mouth.
His eyes widened, momentarily offended as he contemplated sinking his teeth into the glove in retaliation. It was like he was being scuffed like a kid, when his suggestion was perfectly reasonable.
"No, Johnny. Fucking hell," Ghost growled. There wasn't any heat to it, just desperation and a plea, forcing him to listen. "There's a deadline for the documents." He was looking at Soap hungrily, warring a conflict openly on those hooded irises. "Won't be able to focus on anything beside you today, take my word for it."
When Ghost was certain Soap wasn't planning to further his seduction, he allowed his hand to slip from his mouth to his jaw.
Soap frowned, pouting openly. "I can't believe you're sending me away for a bunch of paperwork."
"Just for a few hours," Ghost muttered. He thumbed the edge of Soap's beard, running soothing circles with it. "I'll make it up to you, love."
"Right," Soap grumbled, well aware that he was acting a bit childish on the matter. He couldn't help it, the one thing that got him through the mission was the thought of spending time with Ghost. He built the entire evening on the assumption that Ghost would want to be by his side, that they’d enjoy the evening before ending up in their bed together.
But he needed to attend to his duties whether or not Soap was looking forward to getting drunk, singing karaoke and whatever else you could do in the pub the team chose for the day.
"Trust me on this." Ghost nuzzled his clothed mouth against Soap’s cheek and his anger nearly evaporated.
Nearly.
"I do trust you." Soap turned his head towards him, shivering when he felt Ghost's teeth through the mask, the way he dragged it down the line of his cheek to his neck coaxed a soft purr out of him. "You're… You're mine for the night after, then."
Ghost was pressing against his swollen gland, all eager kisses and covered canines. "Done."
That deep timbre of his rolled over Soap like a honeyed promise and he nodded against his mask, a soft balm pressed over his disappointment was better than nothing.
"Better show how 'won't be able to focus on anything besides you' part of it later, yeah?" Soap leaned over to kiss the pale skin exposed between the edge of his mask and shirt, earning a soft, pleased growl for his efforts.
"I intend to." Ghost pulled back, pushing the mask up enough to reveal his pink scarred lips, before he dove down to capture Soap's lips between his teeth.
The way he kissed him was another promise, of everything he wanted to do yet he couldn't just yet. He was intense, desperate and dizzying, stealing every breath from Soap's lungs until nothing was left. When they parted, Soap was slumped in his arms, breathing heavily against his warm chest.
Ghost kept him steady and secure, he always did.
They stayed in each other's arms for what felt like an eternity, reluctant to be the first to break away.
It was a pair of approaching footsteps that got them to move. Soap gently disentangled himself from his arms, stepping back from Ghost’s silent form. He nodded once, an awkward goodbye spilling out of his mouth as he reluctantly turned and started walking out of the base.
He felt Ghost’s gaze on his back the entire way out, tossing a lighthearted salute over his head without turning to ease him. They were fine, Soap might sulk the entire night but Ghost wouldn’t be there to see it; it didn’t matter.
The night ended up being a standard celebratory affair. There were drinks, food and lots of jokes thrown around with music Soap hadn't heard before. He didn’t participate in the karaoke, not quite in the mood to indulge himself like that. Throughout the night, he couldn't ignore the gnawing emptiness of Ghost by his side. He was missing him already and it hadn't even been an hour since he last saw him.
He needed another drink.
-
Soap returned to the base alone, the rest of the group had retired earlier than him. Price and Gaz lingered back, saying they were going to stick around for a few more drinks. He didn’t want to drink more, Ghost’s request floating in the back of his mind, so he bid his farewell before heading off. Most of the base was asleep by then, the pleasant buzz in his system melted any reservations he'd normally have walking back late and alone.
He felt like he was forgetting something.
There wasn't a point in dwelling on the lack of thought since he knew Ghost was probably awake, or going to be when he reached their room. A couple of nights ago, he'd even admitted to it; confessing that he slept better with Soap in his arms, that he was far more of a light sleeper outside of it.
"A big ol' sap," Soap muttered fondly. There wasn't anyone besides the night duty guards at their posts, and they were too far away to interact with him or hear his longing wistfulness.
The distance was starting to get to him. He'd been patient the entire night, trying to ignore the gnawing emptiness that Ghost's absence left him with, and with more pints in him than was advisable. It wasn’t enough to make him drunk, though. Just enough to make it smell like he was. At worst, he was tipsy and feeling lonelier than ever.
He wanted Ghost so bad it was starting to annoy him.
Soap considered texting him throughout the night to give him updates, to make him regret not spending the evening with him, and he almost did too. Unfortunately he recognised the urgency at which his Lieutenant requested some space from him, being too good of a man to ignore a sincere plea.
He almost wished he wasn't.
Still, it was eerily silent when he transversed through the barracks, and when he reached the front of their room, he couldn't even tell if Ghost was on the other side. Not that it wasn't a regular issue; for a man of his size, Ghost was surprisingly soft-footed.
Perfectly suited to move in stealth, making his presence nonexistent to the point he could catch Soap and other trained operators off-guard if he wanted to.
That was to say when he twisted the door's handle and stepped inside, he wasn't expecting to crash into a bulk of warmth, strong arms immediately crushing his lower back as his face was buried into the heat of a broad chest.
The second thing he registered was Ghost’s scent, thick, strong and heady, nothing but a clear want for Soap's presence radiating off the musk intertwined with his pheromones. A low grumble vibrated from his body when Soap greedily nosed at his partially covered scent gland, far too pleased that Ghost seemed to have missed his presence just as much as he did.
His body was crushing into him with the kind of friction that Soap had secretly craved through the evening, the weight of his body draped over him spoke of a dangerous promise; it was almost enough to forgive him.
Was there anything Ghost needed to repent for? Soap couldn’t remember anymore.
The door slammed loudly behind him rattling his thoughts away.
From the tense muscles that were coiled around him, the ever-persistent rumble rolling around him like a pleased purr of the Alpha variety, he knew he was going to have the time of his life.
"Johnny," Ghost whispered, letting him squirm in his hold, trying to scent himself and the older man like his instincts were demanding him to.
His hold tightened impossibly and Soap momentarily froze when he felt Ghost’s pelvis rut up to his own, his prominent and growing erection pressed up to Soap's in a way that burned every rational thought from his brain.
"Fuck," Soap whined, needy and shuddering against the slow, torturous grinds, Ghost's muscular frame bearing down onto him in the most delicious way possible.
He had no idea how he managed to take the monster that was pressing against him whenever they had sex, but he knew he always felt stuffed full and satisfying sore after each round. The mental image of it had Soap preening, trying to insistently rub himself closer to Ghost, only for his arms to turn into a vice around his waist.
Soap was rendered still, crushed tightly against his body, his autonomy stripped from him as Ghost held him close. The friction was painstakingly slow, almost punishing in how he made Soap feel even emptier than before.
"Took your bloody time," Ghost said with a ragged breath, his voice dropping into deeper octaves, thick and churning with arousal. “Punishing me, were you?”
He dipped his head to Soap's neck, insistently nosing at the sides before resting right on his collar. Seeking reassurance. Ghost took a deep breath in, a rumbling growl slipping out of his mouth right after — no doubt being able to smell Soap's scent spiking with arousal. "You're drunk."
"Missed you," Soap mumbled, feeling the haze of pheromones and alcohol in his system swirl in his head. He offered his neck more to Ghost, a moan bubbling out of his throat when he started kissing and nipping at the stretch of his skin there, the collar pressing down euphorically against his gland. "I need you so bad it's fuckin' with me — Since the afternoon I can't think of anythin' else but you—"
He bit down and Soap couldn't help but let a loud whine interrupt his own words. He felt so slack and useless in his arms, squirming and groaning to no avail. Ghost’s tongue dragged around the collar, hot and wet until it disappeared and an amused huff blew out of his lips, fanning the full extent of Soap's exposed skin.
"How do you want me, Johnny?" Ghost asked, voice incredibly diplomatic despite the shit-eating smirk that stretched through his mask, the one that he tried to hide in Soap's neck. The steady thrust of his hips turned harsher each second; the bastard knew exactly what he was doing, yet Soap was far too gone to care.
"I want all of it," Soap nearly growled out, fighting against the hold this time, he twisted and turned expecting to be held firmly in place, and much to his surprise, Ghost suddenly loosened his hold, allowing him to slide freely down his body. “All of you.”
Soap gripped the side of his body, periodically grabbing and releasing, until his fingers were digging into Ghost's meaty thighs as he braced himself on his knees.
"Please, please, Simon," he purred desperately, lips pressing messy kisses over the defined lines of muscles on his thigh, looking up at Ghost through his lashes to tempt him further.
He knew the debauched state he was in, on his knees hungry and begging for the Alpha's cock, fluttering his eyes up at him like a common whore. He should be embarrassed, yet he couldn't care less if it was what it took to get Ghost to ruin him.
The only answer that Soap got was a gentle tug when Ghost ran his fingers through his hair, a gloved hand fisting his mohawk, pressing Soap's face right into his bulging erection. The thick musk that invaded his senses had Soap moaning loudly, his mouth latching onto the large outline of Ghost's cock. He was licking and nipping without a single care in the world, the grunts and curses spilling out Ghost's lips spurring him on.
The fabric between them didn't stop him from trying to taste him through it. He found the fat outline of his cockhead and latched onto it, a wet patch growing over Ghost's pants as he sucked like a man who couldn’t live without it. Which was, somewhat true.
"Fucking hell," Ghost hissed through his teeth, bucking into his mouth. Soap dug his fingers harsher into his thighs, pulling him closer as he tasted something wet and salty through the fabric. "That desperate for my cock, are you?"
Soap sucked hard, dragging his canines through the wet patch, feeling victorious as Ghost shuddered against his touch with a needy growl.
He pulled back enough to rest the bulge coyly against his cheek, blinking innocently up to him as he licked his lips in a slow, deliberate motion, the corners of his lips twitching. "What gave it away?"
Soap grinned when he gripped his mohawk a bit tighter, pulling his neck back and sideways to expose the collar that was awkwardly concealing his gland in the angle, darkened eyes glaring at him in scrutiny. It was uncomfortable but unquestionably erotic. He was sure Ghost enjoyed the sight, despite how little the mask gave anything away. All of Soap, bent pretty and submissive for him.
He wasn't supposed to be so eager about exposing himself like this. What would've normally raised alarms in his head as an Omega did the opposite, a deep-seated instinct pleased that he could provide this much for his Alpha.
With his gland haphazardous in view, Ghost shifted his weight on his legs, unbuttoning his fatigues. It wasn't long before Soap got his prize, his cock springing from its tight confines to rest heavily on his face. The weight of it rolled against his cheek, smearing pre-come over his skin.
He was perfect. Long, thick and red, with veins running over the sides and the ridge at the base, a wide crown that was leaking pre-come. Memories of being seated to its root, knot tightly sealing both of them together had Soap shifting on his knees, feeling himself getting wetter from the thought alone.
Ghost fisted the root, guiding his cock to rest against his lips, rubbing the wide tip roughly against the edge of his mouth as Soap's smile stretched.
Ghost's eyes were barely visible through the mask, pupils blown wide and black, a sign of his lack of control while he stayed silent, taking in the sight of Soap kneeling in front of him. He might've not bitten Soap yet but his instincts to mark his territory whenever he had his hands on him never failed to please him.
Soap parted his lips, purring deeply as his tongue flickered out, licking from the edge of the head right up to the slit. He groaned at the taste of him, unfiltered and thick resting on his tongue.
"Bloody hell, Johnny," Ghost hissed, the grip on his mohawk tensed but he didn't move, allowing Soap to set the pace.
He lapped up the rest of his precome before wrapping his lips around the head, sinking in to take the first inch in.
It wasn't his first time taking Ghost like this, they had more than their fair share of private fun after that little debacle that kick-started the relationship, and yet it always astounded him how big he was.
The girth of him made Soap's jaw ache, the hefty weight of him was almost punishing in what he could accomplish with gravity alone. Ghost tightened his hold, slowly easing him down his length until the tip bounced off the back of his throat and he had to stop to adjust. His gag reflexes existed somewhere, splattering and choking around the length, but the grip on his hair didn't let him pull back from it.
"Easy, love," Ghost crooned at him, as if he wasn’t making sure he sat there and took it. Soap’s saliva pooled around his cock as he adjusted, slipping out of the corners of his lips in a mess but neither of them paid much attention to it.
Both of them knew they were going to make a worse mess by the end of it.
He was always a bit too scent-drunk to fully register his actions when he was like this with his partners, his stubbornness to take everything overpowering the knee-jerk reaction to pull away. His gaze flickered towards Ghost, staring into his mask with purposeful challenge before he sucked loudly and took more of him down his throat.
This was the part Soap enjoyed the most.
Watching Ghost lose every inch of control because of him. Feeling his grunts, groans and shudders through his cock, enjoying the force behind the gloved hand that jerked erratically until he gave in and yanked Soap down to the root.
It was a burning, heavy stretch, the pain heavily overshadowed by the whir of satisfaction that pooled in his stomach. Inch by inch, he was wrenched down the girthy cock until his lips were flushed to his crotch, nose brushing against pale pubic hair as he nuzzled closer. Ghost's hand slipped from his hair down to grip his chin, forcing his head up as adjusted to the position.
His pheromones were a thick concentrated mess this close, capable of rendering Soap more drunk on his scent than he ever thought possible. It was going straight to his head, his boxers soaking in the front with his precome.
"Fuck, Johnny," Ghost rumbled appreciatively, stroking the edge of his chin, until his fingers dropped down to his throat, tracing the line of protrusion on his throat that was testing its limits against the collar. His prick was big enough to make a bulge anywhere it was stuffed — Soap's throat was no exception.
"Taking me so fucking well, all the way down here." Ghost tapped the edge of the bulge, deliberately flexing his cock inside his throat and Soap splattered helplessly when he felt the collar tighten on his neck. He was choking and purring in the same breath, both reactions involuntary.
The vibrations must've done something to Ghost because a groan slipped out through the mask, his hips instinctively grounded into the wet heat of his mouth. His hands tightened around Soap as he squirmed. He palmed his neck and hair with one hand, forcing him in place; squeezing enough to make everything feel tighter around him.
"Know you belong here, don't you?" Ghost started fucking his throat slow and steady, pulling out until the cockhead oozed teasingly at the edge of his canines before he smoothly glided in. Forcing the full extent of his cock down Soap's throat with every thrust. "On your superior's cock, staring at me with those fuck-me eyes."
He twisted his tongue cheekily on the next downstroke, lightly gagging when Ghost pulled him flush against his crotch, the tip roughly bouncing at the back of his throat as he struggled to breathe against his hold.
Soap's lips were stretched to the limit, chin resting against his balls.
There was possessive anger in Ghost, the way he leered and focused so pointedly at the place his mouth obscenely latched onto his cock. Soap thought there was more to it — the way he moved was oddly unrestrained.
Then he smelt it, the vague hint of alcohol that was distinct from anything he had that evening.
"We could spend the night like this, Johnny." A gloved finger rested on top of his nose, tracing the sharp, straight bone, teasing and threatening at the same time. "Such a pretty thing."
His nails dug further into his thighs as he desperately tried to control his reflexes, the only solace coming from the firm grasp that was anchoring him in place. He wasn't an entire fool, he knew what Ghost was doing.
He was being held where he belonged.
"Pretty little tease."
Bleeding Christ, Soap was growing painfully hard and Ghost was talking to him when he couldn't return the cheek or respond in any capacity.
"You would've stayed obediently on your knees if I said yes."
Soap nodded slowly, blinking frantically at him. Go on, he shifted uncomfortably on the ground, forcing his front to press down against the cement, finding no relief from the minimal friction there.
Give me more.
Ghost noticed his fruitless struggle, the pleading desperation in his eyes, and he widened his stance to shove a leather boot right up to his crotch.
Soap moaned obscenely around his cock, the sound coming up gargled and choked.
The boot rubbed into him soothingly at first, but Ghost stopped altogether, content in watching him struggle. Soap didn't have enough in his painfully aroused state to do anything other than take what he was given. He started thrusting shallowly against his boot, rubbing the tip around his straining bulge while he obediently warmed Ghost's cock.
Things were drawing out and he did not doubt that his Lieutenant meant what he said earlier.
Could spend the whole night like this, Johnny.
His eyes were starting to water but he steadily inhaled through his nose, determined to please and coax the Alpha into taking him properly as he sucked obscenely around his cock and ran his tongue underneath. A gratuitous amount of precome spilt over the back of his tongue, bitter, thick and salty, threatening to choke him further on the ridiculous cock down his throat. But he persisted anyway, always the resolute soldier.
Soap grazed his teeth lightly over the top, just the way he liked it, and earned a loud rapturous growl out of him, his entire body shuddering around him. Ghost pulled his head back, till the tip was pressed against his gaping lips, the precome flowing messily over his mouth as a triumphant smile stretched over it.
Unfortunately, Soap wasn't allowed to linger on his rightfully earned victory before Ghost was bullying his cock back into his mouth, shoving the rest down his throat in a searing thrust with a sigh. He started fucking his throat properly after that, the wet slap of his balls against his chin filling the silence of the room. Soap's mouth was reduced to a toy, a wet hole for him to indulge in.
Whenever he tried to match the pace or pull against the hold, Ghost would yank his head into place. It was either his pace or none at all.
Domineering bastard.
"Greedy brat." Ghost increased the pace of his thrusts, putting a bit more strength behind each, the force almost jittering. Like he wanted to fuck Soap's brains out. From the pace he was going, it felt like he would've succeeded too.
Soap’s throat felt raw with each slide of his cock. He was fucking relentlessly, chasing the high in Soap's mouth like the rest of him didn't exist. All he could do was take it, obediently sucking and tightening his throat around him to get his prize. He wanted to see Ghost completely debauched because of him.
It didn't matter if Ghost ended up knotting his mouth, forcing him to stay on his knees for however long while he pumped his load in him. He wanted it, all of it.
Every filthy, bitter, jagged part of him, he wanted it more than anything. His eyes were nothing short of overflowing with tears now, none of them remorseful.
"Good boy," Ghost praised, thumbing the tears rolling down his face in a tender stroke while he rolled his hips into his stretched mouth. He fisted the root of his cock and pulled back, tugging Soap's head up for view as he rested the tip heavily on his tongue. "For you, love."
Soap moaned at the affirmation, his tongue wrapping around Ghost as he did his best to suck him off.
Ghost shuddered. It didn't take long before a punched-out breath accompanied his groan and he came in thick hot ropes, flooding Soap's mouth completely. It was too much, the bitter, salty taste of him was everywhere and overflowing, like he'd knotted right in his fist.
Soap tried his best to swallow the onslaught of come, a trail of it drooling out of the corners of his lips but he wasn't discouraged. He took more of Ghost's cock in, directing his release straight down his throat.
"Like bein’ used, Johnny?" Ghost was looking at him from beneath his pale lashes, eyes half-lidded and his focus switching from Soap's face to the bob of his Adam's apple. The mask obscured most of his expression but he could imagine what was underneath. Soap sucked and swallowed obediently, making a show out of it. "The mess you're making, fuckin’ slag."
Soap keened, rutting into his boot again, more desperately than before.
Ghost wasn't in a hurry to help him. Or stop coming, actually. He was absentmindedly stroking the swell of his knot, pumping his load in while he watched Soap hump his boot desperately.
After his pathetic attempts to get off didn’t work, Ghost shoved his boot —almost painfully— further up his crotch, fisting his mohawk. He slid his cock down his throat in a slick, wet thrust, forcing Soap to mouth at his slightly swollen knot as it got shoved under his teeth, face flushed to his crotch.
Ghost cursed under his breath as he made himself home deep in his thoroughly used throat.
He forced Soap there, hooking a finger around his collar, tightening it and stimulating the bulge as he pulsed obscenely in his throat. Praise flew incoherently from his lips, running his mouth loose while he properly occupied Soap's.
He had to have some alcohol in him, Ghost wasn't always vocal like this.
"Good fuckin' boy… Desperate slag… Hungry little cocksleeve..."
And of course, his name, spoken softly under all of that filth.
"Johnny… My Johnny…"
Soap wasn't sure how long he was kneeling for but his knees were starting to ache. His cock was too, a different kind of aching since the friction on his crotch wasn't enough; he was throbbing painfully the more Ghost praised and degraded him, release nowhere in sight.
Soap needed to feel his knot inside of him, it had turned into an essential need.
He might just die if he didn't.
After squeezing the last pumps of his come in Soap’s throat, Ghost pulled out with a pleased groan, tipping his chin up in the process. Soap parted his lips enough to show the remaining slob of come on his tongue, making sure he saw it when he wetly swallowed.
Something dangerous swirled in those void-tainted eyes.
"You've been good today," Ghost said, voice deceptively even, and he leaned over, his shadow looming everywhere Soap could see as he affectionately stroked his throat. "Want your reward now?"
He nodded eagerly, not trusting his voice to convey how much he wanted Ghost. He felt thoroughly used and yet there were other parts of him that wanted the same treatment.
"On your front, against the wall."
Soap scrambled to stand up, ignoring the ache in his muscles as he turned towards the wall next to the door. He braced himself on his arms, arching his back in the perfect curve that gave Ghost full access to his arse.
Two sturdy, gloved hands grasped the curve of his hips, tugging at his waistband.
"Didn't even need to tell you to present." Ghost slipped a hand on his front and the mere contact had Soap dropping his head low, suppressing the moan that wanted to escape pathetically. "You already know you're mine."
"Fuck me already, Ghost." His voice was hoarse and grating to his ears, accent thick. It almost hurt to speak. "Been yours for a while now."
Ghost unbuttoned his fatigues and yanked it down his thighs and away, pulling his boxers down with it.
"Not yet."
Soap was about to protest in a loud growl before a finger circled his sopping hole, poking around his puffy rim.
"So wet…" Ghost's breath was on his neck, amused and reverent, before he roughly pushed a gloved finger in, pulling a moan out of him. "Need a bit more before you can take my cock, though."
Soap's words choked in his throat, the leather twisted in search and Ghost's ridiculously long and thick finger was almost enough to make him buckle to his knees again.
But he didn't give in, biting harshly down his lips as he steadied his legs. Ghost started thrusting his finger steadily, easily twisting and turning it in him before he added another, and then another, until Soap was thoroughly speared on three thick, long fingers. It was nothing in comparison to his cock but everything about Ghost was big, including his hands, and he was ruthlessly efficient with it.
Especially when he was fucking him on them, burying his fingers up to his boney, leather-covered knuckles; plucking every string inside of him. He could barely keep himself quiet, not when Ghost seemed focused on making him wetter than he had ever been in his life.
"Simon. Christ," Soap moaned loudly when his prostate was struck at the clever twist of his wrist, unintentionally digging his own grave as Ghost repeated the motion, the following thrusts completely rubbing and assaulting that sweet spot. "Fuck, fuck!"
He was going to be an entire mess at this rate.
Ghost flexed his fingers inside of him, and his vision blurred, a tight heat coiling around his gut, threatening to spill. He would've come too, right on Ghost's thick fingers, if he didn't abruptly stop and pull the slick-dipped leather out.
"Ghost," Soap growled, impatience fuelling the anger at the denied orgasm as his hole clenched at nothing, feeling emptier than ever. "Sir, fuckin' please."
"Impatient brat," Ghost murmured, his breath hot on the curve of his arse. Fresh, hot, maskless breath on his arse. He hadn't even heard him discard it.
Soap froze in anticipation, irritation dissolving in the vast nothingness of his thoughts when Ghost kissed the small of his back with soft lips, trailing his lips further to place a claiming bite on one of his plump cheeks.
Soap yelped, sucking his cheeks in to stifle his embarrassment.
Ghost was already slotting his face between his cheeks when he composed himself.
He spread the globes of Soap's arse wide, taking an appreciative breath in, his tongue flickered out, catching some of the slick that was freely gushing from his hole.
"Let me enjoy my meal first, love."
"Christ, Simon," was all he could say before he was reduced to a garbled, trembling mess.
It was sinful how quickly he lapped up his slick, drinking all of it like a man who had been deprived of everything, finding solace in Soap. He dragged his mouth over the fluttering, puffy rim, extended canines teasingly grazing the sensitive skin above it. Ghost was careful with them, making sure there was nothing but a hint of sharpness near, yet the persistent tease of his fangs while he licked a hot, wet trail all over his leaking hole fired off every nerve in Soap's brain. He wasn't going to last like this.
Ghost's tongue plunged inside him after his thorough clean-up, his mouth creating a tight suction around his hole. He twisted and stroked the quivering walls, greedily gulping down the endless gush as he coaxed more out of him. His slick-covered gloves dug into the fat of Soap's arse, steadying him in place and spreading him wide open.
He was grateful for it, his knees would've buckled ages ago if Ghost wasn't intent on holding him while he feasted.
Soap was already on the brink of ruin. He tried to speak but nothing came out as it should. His words alternated between sudden gasps, groans and purrs, ecstasy blurring the edge of his vision as the heat in him coiled tighter with every indulgent slurp.
Ghost must've noticed his pathetic attempts because he slowed down enough to allow him to mutter more than a syllable out at a time, letting his mouth go slack after an indulgent lick. It took a few moments to catch his breath, his heart wildly beating in his chest.
"Simon," Soap spoke, his voice pitching soft around his name. The hands around his arse tightened in response, almost punishing in their hold, more than certain to leave bruising marks later. "Close."
Ghost hummed in acknowledgement, nuzzling his face closer, he readjusted his hold to slip one hand up and over, tracing the bone of his hip before he cupped Soap's cock tightly.
He was throbbing painfully in his hand. Leaking, red and already on the edge after being denied the first time, he moaned loudly when he closed his fist around his cock, wet tongue prodding the swollen rim before he plunged harshly inside, moving his slicked fist in tow.
Ghost pumped his cock steadily as his tongue made quick work of his quivering, clenching hole, any slick that escaped trailing down the side of his face to make a mess. Soap didn’t even pretend he was going to last.
His orgasm came to him in shuddering, filthy waves, dragging the heat in his guts and making it drip against the eager tongue waiting to lap it up. His cock pulsed lazy lines of come onto the wall and the floor as Ghost devoured him from behind, his eager gulps accompanied by deep, growling rumbles that vibrated against his tightly spread skin.
Soap slumped against the wall, reduced to a moaning, purring mess, barely keeping himself upright from his entire body trembling because of that sinful mouth, he felt emptier despite the endless gush of slick that was being coaxed out of him.
Finally, Ghost relented, twisting and dragging his tongue against his dripping walls before leisurely pulling out, pressing his lips against the small of his back for a final kiss. Soap exhaled loudly, his hole fluttering against nothing as his entire body burned, no doubt flushed red beyond measure. His breath travelled the length of his covered spine, stopping at the stretch of his neck, his gravelly, lust-filled voice fanning next to Soap’s ear.
“You are perfect, Johnny.” Ghost bracketed his back with ease, that broad muscled frame that he craved the entire night a delicious tease against him, caging him in a way that satisfied a very specific fantasy he’d ever conjured with Ghost involved. His hands steadied Soap’s hips, allowing him to slump further against the wall. “Like you were made for me.”
Soap was.
He didn’t care if it wasn’t something he could ever prove — they were made for each other. It would never change, not here, not there, not in a billion different universes.
“I love you,” Soap murmured, feeling less drunk on the pints he consumed and more on the euphoria that was blooming all over his chest, the heat that transferred so steadily from Ghost’s embrace. “Fuck, Simon. I—”
“I’ve got you,” Ghost said, bearing down on him with steady hands as he adjusted both of them to squeeze his cock between his cheeks, the spit-slicked weight of it resting teasingly against his arse. He was already impossibly hard. Soap groaned lowly, feeling his insides clench at nothing in anticipation, slick leaking out and down the length pressed against him. “Love you too, if that wasn’t obvious.”
Soap coughed out a laugh, squeezing his muscles as tight as he could. “Feels like you want to make it obvious in other ways too.”
Ghost exhaled a long, heated breath, pressing his lips against the side of his face while forcing more of his weight down against his rear. Soap felt something warm and wet smear the small of his back, the tip of Ghost’s cock rubbing languidly over his skin.
“Wanted to go easy on you,” Ghost murmured, thrusting slowly between his cheeks, enough to make Soap shake at the restrained strength behind each smooth glide of his hips, hitched whines dying in his throat. “Bloody hell, I didn’t want to leave you by yourself either.”
“That was you goin’ easy on me?” Soap tipped his head back, turning to the side enough to catch the handsome face that was staring down at him, pretty brown eyes framed delightfully by those golden lashes. “Almost fooled me.”
“I could’ve fucked your throat hoarse, Johnny,” Ghost growled, that silken noise rumbling through his chest. Soap managed an indulgent smirk, pleased by how affected he was, before Ghost started slipping more strength behind his thrusts, unable to hide his eagerness as both of them moaned at a particularly tight grind. “Could’ve knotted it too. You would’ve let me.”
Soap nodded eagerly, the words spoken with conviction making his insides twist with boiling need. Ghost could have him in any way he wanted, all he had to do was ask. He trusted him more than anyone else in the world.
“Simon,” he whined, grinding his arse back against the thick length. “If you don’t fuck me soon, you’ll have something to worry about.”
“Feisty, aren’t you,” Ghost groaned, forcing his hips to a halt. Soap would’ve protested if he wasn’t lifted off his feet a second later, twisted easily like a rag doll by two iron-clad arms. His breaths were stolen from his lungs as he was pushed effortlessly up against the wall.
Words suddenly escaped him as his mind tried to comprehend what he felt after being manhandled with ease, the delightfully flushed face of Ghost looked at him with unquestionable adoration, his lips stretching to a lopsided smirk knowingly.
The shitty lighting did nothing to take away how handsome he was. Golden hair fluffed up and unkempt as if he just rolled out of bed, the rosy blush under his eyes accentuating his features and those pink lips, mischievous and more than capable of sin. Soap’s gaze flickered to the dimple at the end of that smirk, longing etching the inner chambers of his heart.
He was suddenly consumed with the urge to drag his teeth through his pretty lips, and his scarred cheek, and leave claiming bites of his own all over the Ghost’s body to make it clear who he belonged to.
The emptiness in his chest returned with vengeance, clawing under his skin with the reminder of how there wasn’t a trace of Ghost on him permanently. Not on his neck, not anywhere; this was insanity, surely.
There was no other explanation for it.
“Johnny?” Ghost asked when he didn’t react, his smirk flickered briefly, brows furrowing in concern.
They were pressed intimately against each other. Ghost had both of his hands tight around his rear, easily propping him up while his cock rested against his arse at the angle. He could’ve taken him right there, responded to Soap’s earlier threat and showed him that he meant it when said he’d have him for the night despite how awkwardly slack he was in his arms.
Instead, he allowed Soap to breathe and take in the devastating possibility that was Ghost in his entirety, his mind far too drunk off his feelings to reach a sane conclusion.
All he could feel was a void that burned.
“Bite me,” Soap said without thinking.
Ghost tensed against him. It was fleeting but Soap saw the frustration that swept through his gaze, it twisted something in him too, before his attention towards his collar, the gland that throbbed under the intense scrutiny.
Did he push too far?
Soap opened his mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t—”
“No,” Ghost muttered, easing the tension from his shoulders as he leaned more into him. “You’re right.”
I am? Soap blinked, unable to comprehend what Ghost meant when his grip climbed from the meat of his arse to his slack thighs, gently untangling them before he dropped them around his waist. He pushed Soap further against the wall, freeing his hands to hold him up through the press of his hips alone.
He might’ve not known what Ghost was doing but the easy show of his strength did nothing to quell his desire. The Alpha’s hand rested on his thigh a few seconds later, snapping his attention back from the dizzying haze of lust.
“Hold tight, love,” Ghost said with a knowing crease of his eyes, and Soap obeyed without thinking twice, clamping his legs tightly around his muscular, tantalising waist.
The pleased rumble that escaped Ghost’s throat made him momentarily forget his confusion.
He leaned away from Soap, stretching back to his full height, and even in the elevated state that he was in, Ghost managed to be taller by an inch or two.
Big fuckin’ Brit.
Soap could give him that. He’d never admit it — not that Ghost would need to be reminded of how towering he was — but it did more than a few things for him. Was there anything about him that Soap wasn’t at least partially obsessed with?
Of course not.
Lost in thought, Soap almost missed the sigh that escaped out of Ghost’s lips. His gloved hand reached out to his abdomen to tug at the seams of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head in a fluid motion and throwing it behind his shoulder. His scattered thoughts immediately had a focal point to hone in on, Ghost’s impressive, muscular torso on display for his eyes to devour.
It wasn’t the first time he saw Ghost without clothes. They’d shower together and fucked without clothes before, but he hadn’t gotten the chance to take him in without doing something else.
What a bonnie sight he was.
Ghost’s pale chest was accentuated by the supple planes of his muscles, drawing clear, cut lines down his body, his nipples were perked and pink, and his dog tags gleamed between his pecs, making saliva pool inside Soap’s mouth the more he stared. He had hair over them too, although most of it was pale enough to miss notice and it covered the multitude of scars scattered throughout his skin. A couple of gunshot wounds, some knife scarring and others that Soap needed to ask more about someday.
His hands itched and he didn’t stop himself this time, reaching out to place his hands gently on the large, enticing pecs of the man he was utterly in love with. Ghost was looking at him curiously, a subtle flutter of his eyelashes at the contact spurring Soap on as he gently thumbed his nipples. He reacted bodily, much to Soap’s delight — the smallest of tremors rumbling underneath his fingertips.
You like this, Soap thought in silent fervour, not being gentle when he thumbed his nipples again and twisted them between his fingers.
“Johnny,” Ghost groaned lowly, that lustful sound igniting the same desire from before. Slick leaked from his hole and Soap watched as his chest rose with a deep inhale underneath his hold. Ghost started slowly grinding into him, crowding him against the wall and offering more of himself in the process.
Things were going to resume, and he wanted it to, but he didn’t feel like letting go of his chest quite yet. He wrapped his arms loosely around Ghost’s neck, dragging his nose slowly from the thick column of his neck to the sharp collarbone and down the soft outline of his tits. Forgotten was the promise that got them there. Soap knew he wanted his mouth on his chest and there was nothing in the world that could stop him.
Ghost certainly didn’t try.
His pace got worse as Soap wrapped his lips around his left pec with the vigour of a man who wanted to bite, suck and claim everything he was exposed to. The consequence of giving Soap everything on a silver platter; he was going to savour his meal more intensely than Ghost had. He dragged his teeth through the meat of his chest, the hint of his canines passing delicately against the perked nipple before he wrapped his lips indulgently around one.
Ghost wrapped his arms around his back, shifting his weight more into his arms as he rutted aggressively against him, while Soap sucked without a care in the world, the taste on his tongue combining deliciously with the filtered musk that was invading his senses. Soap rubbed his tongue against the tip before firmly twisting, more than willing to show how much skill he had, and from the restrained jitters of Ghost’s hips and his throaty growls, it was definitely working. He gave his chest a firm bite before pulling himself back to worship his other tit just as viciously as the one he latched onto a few moments ago.
Ghost slipped one of his hands down to his arse, parting it with a low snarl as his cock was forced further against him, the tip rubbing heavily against his rim. Fuck. He continued his thrusts, cock nearly forced in before pulling back at the last second, causing Soap to whine desperately against his chest, mouth suddenly feeling slack with how harshly he was being teased.
“Ghost.” Soap looked up at him with wide, hopeful eyes, making his chest hum with that purr that would convey his intentions.
Ghost snaked a free hand up to his neck, fingers roughly grasping the backend of his mohawk to guide him upwards, and he leaned forward, grunting through his teeth as he rested Soap on the nape of his neck, lips poised at the swell of his gland.
“Bite me then, Johnny,” Ghost murmured, his scent thick and inviting despite the almost heretical suggestion he was presenting. Soap froze in disbelief, the gland in front of him looked soft, oddly untouched despite how scarred the rest of him was, and utterly tempting.
Nothing but sinful temptation.
Alphas didn’t get bitten before Omegas, it was practically unheard of and those who did let their Omegas bite them were rare exceptions that showcased the quality of their relationship more than anything else. Alphas who were hopelessly in love were willing to cross the traditional lines to do that. But it usually happened to bonded pairs, to Omegas that were already bonded to their Alphas and not to those who weren’t bonded. It was usually an Alpha’s bite that completed the bonding ritual and not…
“I want it.” Ghost’s declaration, wrapped up in his deep, gravelly voice, ignited every little instinct in him that wanted him, wanted to please him; it was too difficult to ignore. Not when the thought of tainting Ghost like this, leaving a mark of himself forever on the man, satisfied that dangerous, empty side of him that wanted to claim him without uncertainty.
He wasn’t sure it was going to work.
None of the stories he heard included anything about what they were going to do.
“I want you,” Ghost whispered, solidifying his fate.
He should’ve known Simon Riley would’ve been different from everyone else.
With Ghost holding him tightly in his embrace, consuming every breath and space that existed between them, Soap parted his lips and allowed his teeth to trace the delicate shape of him. He revelled in the small shudders that ran underneath him, inhaling deeply before he bit down roughly enough to break the skin. Blood spilt into his mouth; the warm, coppery taste of his mate accompanied the euphoria of his actions; for a brief moment, nothing existed between them.
Most didn’t have words to describe how the bond connected. It was dreamy, primal and a burst of emotions that often intertwined deeply with a feeling of rightness, or it was what his sister admitted when Soap asked and he had nearly scrunched his nose at the abstract language. What he wanted to know was the concrete, physical details so that he could fill his fantasies by imagining how it would feel when his faceless alpha eventually bonded with him.
What he couldn’t have ever imagined was for him to initiate the bond, and for the ‘faceless alpha’ to be a little too literal of a figure than he realised. It was perfect, though. There was nothing in the scenario that he would ever change. From the bodily shudder that rolled out of Ghost with the sweetest of moans to grace his ears, to the sudden influx of love and desire tightening in every inch of his body, down to his individual cells. They were inseparable, in literal and metaphorical terms, and the bond that was forged between them felt more comforting than anything else had in a long while.
Soap mindlessly lapped at the fresh bite wound on his neck, feeling far too proud of his handiwork.
His feelings were so all-encompassing that Soap didn’t notice Ghost move until he felt the crown of his cock push into him, he was grunting into his shoulder, slowly forcing Soap down the massive length. It was too fucking much. However, the stretch was delicious as ever, making him wetter just to accommodate more of him inside. Their moans mixed crudely together as his cock carved a way through his slick-soaked insides, not stopping until Soap was tightly impaled to the root.
Ghost held him there, flushed against his waist, and he closed his eyes, breathing slowly to adjust to the pressure that felt like he was right up to his stomach. Soap clenched experimentally, feeling the arms around him tense up, a whine softly slipping out of his lips. He was so fucking full.
“Johnny.” Ghost started slowly grinding into him, digging more into his tightness. Soap grunted, the discomfort not entirely gone but the persistent pressure was firing off signals in his brain that eased his muscles, getting ready enough for Ghost to do as he pleased. “Say the word when you’re ready.”
Soap nodded against his chest, doing his best to return the tight, slow movements, enough to draw a string of colourful words out of Ghost. It wasn’t long before they were pressing into each other with increasingly aggressive movements, reckless desperation fuelling their actions.
“Pretty mate,” Ghost growled, kissing with his teeth bared and not holding back from inflicting marks that would undoubtedly turn into bruises later. “Fuck, Johnny, you’re perfect.”
Funny that, he stole the words right out of Soap’s mouth. It wasn’t him that was perfect.
Did Ghost even look at himself?
“Now,” Soap gasped, hands flailing blindly to grope and claw whatever he could get his hands on. In this case, it was Ghost’s back. He’d apologise with his tongue later to make up for it. “Simon, I’ll die if ye don’t—”
Maybe he shouldn’t have included the phrase ‘die’ in his request because a ripple of urgency slipped through the bond and Soap was readjusted to an angle that made fucking him easier than before. Ghost pulled out slowly, making him feel every inch until only the tip was pressed against him and he drilled into him with a sharp, rattling thrust, effectively wiping his mind blank with anything that wasn’t the cock buried deep in him. The only sound that he registered was a needy whine and the slap of skin. His insides were throbbing, relishing in the sheer pressure he felt in his guts.
Ghost continued, not sparing him a second to adjust. He bore into him with unrelenting vigour, pounding him further and further against the wall until his shoulder blades painfully dug against the concrete wall, slick ran freely down his arse the more careless he got with his thrusts. Soap didn’t care. Their joint fluids made the slide easier, and Ghost was already hitting him deeper because of the angle, incoherent noises pouring out of him the more he was fucked into oblivion.
His cock was poised in such a way that he rubbed over his prostate in the downstroke, and when he thrusted back in, he tried to grind deeper than before, causing Soap to choke out gasps at growing pressure. Ghost was already impossibly big, to feel him get bigger inside him whenever they fucked was an unbearably intimate moment, and it happened again. The obscene noise of skin slapping against skin filled the room as Soap was continuously impaled over an impressive cock.
He was sure Ghost was focused completely on filling him to the brim.
Soap couldn’t be happier, tightening his hold around Ghost’s shoulders, showing his enjoyment vocally as he was jostled around and used with reckless abandon. It hurt, it overwhelmed, and yet it was everything and more, and he wished it was the same for Ghost, that he felt as much joy and pleasure as he did whenever they were together. The bond was hard to distinguish. They were too close, too many things were happening at the same time, and it was hard trying to entangle which feelings were his or which weren’t — but his slip of longing was twisted into something hot, wild and wanting, a burst of pleasure blinding him completely.
He nearly came.
“Look at me, Johnny,” Ghost rasped, his groans twisting in his throat as he possessively tightened his grasp on Soap’s arse, spreading him wider for the next brutal slide of his hips. It was hard to open his eyes but he tried for Ghost, not wanting to disappoint. “Look at what you do to me.”
Soap forced his eyes open, his arms growing a bit slack as he angled his chin to look up at Ghost, determined to see what he meant. He slowed down his thrusts to smooth, rolling grinds, knocking his forehead softly to Soap’s the exact moment he laid his eyes on Ghost’s ruddy, panting face, making him stare without much thought manifesting in his head. The throes of desire painted a picture of a man completely consumed by it.
He was very much enjoying himself.
“I don’t want to be anywhere else,” Ghost exhaled hotly against his cheek, pulling a moan out of Soap with a deep thrust that had him curling his toes. “Could die happy like this, if you let me.”
Bloody fucking Jesus.
Soap pulled his legs closer around him, the heat in his guts intensifying to an unbearable degree as Ghost drove him closer and closer to the edge, his pace intensifying with each thrust. He watched as Ghost’s face shift between narrowed focus to disorganised pleasure with his canines peeking out of his parted lips, it was enough to take his breath away.
He wanted to drown in this moment.
Immortalise it in his memories, make it impossible for anything to take away the sensation of having him like this. He tightened his arms around Ghost’s neck, leaning in for a messy kiss as he felt the telltale signs of his orgasm rippling through him, the molten heat making his walls quiver against his cock. Soap took his lips between his teeth, lightly nipping, and Ghost parted them without protest, his eyes fluttering close as the sensation overwhelmed them both. It was everything Soap dreamed of; a piece of heaven reserved solely for them.
Between their intertwined tongues was a gravelly moan rumbling, no doubt feeling the tightness around him when Soap’s insides clenched tightly, inviting him deeper. Ghost didn’t hold back. His hips pounded into him with more force while his arms forced him closer, taking more of Soap’s weight in his hands to the point that he was almost fucking him standing — without support.
Soap’s cock bounced against his stomach the more he was thoroughly fucked, the trail of come from his previous orgasm haphazardly smeared, and Ghost’s freshly mated scent, alongside his aggression, did little to stop it from slowly fattening. His body was eager; to please his mate, to show that he was more than capable of keeping up, even if Soap couldn’t differentiate where he started and where Ghost ended anymore.
His mate was a hefty, punishing weight around him, almost painful in how eager he was, but Soap was more than willing to take all of it, revelling in how beautiful he was while he lost it.
When Ghost tore himself off his lips with a savage growl, dragging his mouth open, sharp and searing, down the column of his throat, closing in tightly around his neck, Soap knew he trusted him with his life. The pressure was enough to make him feel like he was jostled in the jaws of a predator, however, Ghost’s teeth never broke skin and he simply held himself there, slowly rutting into him as his cock swelled inside his ruined walls.
Everything came all at once, and too much at that. Soap was convinced he was going to burst from the pressure alone, yet the elation that poured soothingly through their bond made things easier, as if Ghost held the reins behind the way his body adjusted to him.
“Simon…” His whine pitched to something that sounded like begging, for what he wasn’t entirely certain. All he knew was that he was stuffed full — beyond comparison.
Ghost tried to grind closer too, reaching deeper than he already was. His release coated him in hot, rhythmic pulses, filling Soap’s guts completely while the skin of his knot expanded, and kept expanding, the sense of being stretched momentarily causing panic before it was smothered down when Ghost loosened his bite to lap against his neck. The hint of pressure exerted from the collar and his tongue eased him enough to push the knot further into him. It wasn’t until it was completely in him, plugging him fully, that could he breathe properly.
His breaths sounded strangled to him, a bit raspy and constrained. Ghost readjusted his hold, letting Soap’s body lean more into the wall as he slid his arms comfortably up his back; they were panting, trying to catch their breaths again after exerting each other to the limit.
“Needed my teeth around something,” Ghost said, kissing his cheek apologetically.
“Ye could’ve bit me,” Soap murmured, leaning into Ghost before he let his eyes drop to the place where they were obscenely joined. His stomach was noticeably bulging and from the way he was throbbing inside of him, the gush of come seemingly endless, he knew the knot was going to take a while to inflate. “Wouldn’t have hurt.”
He was too boneless and satisfied to complain more, the soothing lull of the bond smothering any concerns.
Ghost shook his head. “The bond took.”
“Aye, don’t wanna match?” Soap raised an eyebrow, tilting his head to level his gaze at the fresh bite mark on Ghost’s neck. “With how bonnie ye look, I bet I’d look even better.”
“I want to.” Ghost sighed, that restrained frustration he had seen earlier present in his voice. Soap leaned back, letting his eyes roam over the wry crease of his eyes, the frown on his lips and how his canines poked out underneath that pout; he looked cute, almost. “That’s what the paperwork was about, it’s gonna take a week or so before I can.”
Soap’s nose scrunched up in confusion. “But you let me—?”
“What they don’t know won’t hurt ‘em, Johnny.” Ghost’s smirk was downright mischievous, his eyes glistening in the low light. “Easier to hide it on me than you.”
“Careful, L.t,” Soap drawled, wrapping his arms around his neck to pull him closer. “Sounds like yer gettin’ used to breakin’ the rules for me.”
“Perhaps,” Ghost said, leaning close enough to breathe hotly on Soap’s lips. “I can be patient about a lot of things but you’re turning to be an exception, Sergeant.”
“Charmed, sir.” It was Soap’s turn to smirk, tilting his head to the side to place a tease of a kiss on those pretty pink lips. Not a proper one yet, but from the way he felt Ghost’s breath hitch, he knew he wouldn’t have to wait long for one. “That desperate to be mine?”
“Only yours,” Ghost whispered fondly, diving into him with all he had.
Just like he promised.