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It was 1am by the time they made it back to Johnny’s flat, still a bit damp, eyes heavy with whiskey and fatigue.
‘Wait,’ said Ghost as Johnny put his key in the door.
Johnny watched as he set down several plastic bags, stuffed with wedding gifts, half his dress uniform and several cactuses.
‘Gotta carry you over the threshold,’ said Ghost.
The door swung open.
‘What if I carried you?’ suggested Johnny.
Ghost snorted. Johnny’s eyes narrowed.
‘You don’t think I could?’
‘Didn’t say that,’ said Ghost, still smirking. He jumped as Johnny lunged at him and wrapped both arms around his waist. ‘Hey hey easy sergeant, you’re gonna break something-‘
Johnny grunted and lifted him over his shoulder in a second. Ghost started laughing hysterically. Together they shoved through the door. Johnny deposited him on the sofa, and just for good measure ruffled his hair. He ducked back out for the bags. He spied his opposite neighbour peering out their door.
‘Alright?’ he said, nodding.
They fled back inside.
Ghost was still laying on the sofa, long legs dangling over the arm. His dress shirt was unbuttoned, tie draped around his neck.
‘What?’ he said in response to Johnny’s stare.
‘You know what,’ said Johnny. He grabbed a handful of material, pulling him up so he could kiss him.
His stomach gave a low gurgle. Ghost pulled away.
‘You haven’t eaten all day, I’ll make something.’ He got up. ‘Why don’t you open some of the gifts we got.’
‘S’pose,’ said Johnny. ‘Let me change first.’
Ghost was topless and frying eggs when he came back in, his wedding suit now swapped for t-shirt and jogging bottoms.
‘You’re gonna get spattered,’ said Johnny, watching him.
‘And ruin my delicate skin? Heaven forbid,’ replied Ghost.
Johnny stared at him, at all his scars. As he reached out to touch him Ghost moved away to check something in the oven.
‘How do you want your eggs?’ he asked, slinging a tea towel over one shoulder.
‘Sunny side up,’ said Johnny, watching him reach for the carton.
‘Not fertilised?’ said Ghost, with a smirk. ‘It is our wedding night.’
‘Should I be worried?’ said Johnny. He was a second away from grabbing him, sputtering oil be damned, when Ghost nodded his head.
‘Go on then,’ he said. ‘What’s in the boxes?’
Johnny looked over at the heaped bags.
‘Right,’ he said, flopping down on the sofa and reaching for the nearest. He pulled out a sparkly gift bag. ‘A bottle of…prosecco?’
‘My favourite,’ replied Ghost dryly, now rooting through Johnny’s cupboards for plates.
‘This is heavy,’ said Johnny, pulling out a box. ‘Oh it’s bowls. They have little skulls on.’
Ghost smiled. ‘Who got us that?’
‘Uh.’ Johnny searched for a label. ‘My mum. See, she does like you.’
Ghost leaned over the sofa. ‘She likes it when I keep my mask on.’
As Ghost plated eggs and hash browns Johnny unboxed, among other things, a set of whiskey glasses, a colouring book of the Kama Sutra, and a bizarre ornament of a duck dressed like Elvis. Johnny was speechless. Or at least he thought he was until he unwrapped the next gift.
‘Clone-a-Willy,’ he read. ‘Make your own dildo.’ He turned the cylinder around to read the rest of the text. ‘And it glows in the dark.’
‘Who the fuck gave us that?’ said Ghost sitting next to him and shunting a plate over.
‘Gaz,’ replied Johnny, finding a card.
‘Not very stealthy of him,’ remarked Ghost. ‘Still it’ll be nice for you to use while I’m on deployment.’
‘Nice for me?!’ said Johnny, incredulous. ‘Who said we’re using you to make it? Maybe I want a dildo of my own cock.’
‘What, so you can fuck yourself?’ said Ghost, one eyebrow raised as he forked hash browns into his mouth. ‘Didn’t realise you were in to that.’
Johnny ignored him, still reading.
‘Says you should use a cock ring during the, uh, process,’ he said.
‘See,’ said Ghost, before filching a hash brown from Johnny’s untouched plate. ‘I told you cock rings were a good idea.’
Johnny started to kiss his neck as Ghost finished his eggs. Ghost eyed him.
‘Not eating?’
‘What if I said I was hungry for something else,’ said Johnny.
‘I’d say that’s a fucking terrible line,’ replied Ghost. ‘But you’re pretty so I’ll let it slide.’ He didn’t protest as Johnny grabbed him by the hand and led him over to the bedroom, although he did grab another hash brown.
‘No rose petals?’ said Ghost, looking at the unmade bed. ‘I’m disappointed.’
‘Oh it’s romance you’re after is it?’ said Johnny. He dipped back into the living room, and grabbed a box he’d opened earlier. Proudly he held it aloft.
‘What about a candle for ambiance?’ He held it up, reading the description. ‘Warming essences of caramel and vanilla.’
‘Alright,’ said Ghost and dug in his pocket for a lighter. ‘Consider me seduced.’ He sat down to take off his shoes and socks, and then wriggled out of his trousers, leaving them puddled on the floor.
Johnny tsked.
‘Gonna crease your uniform. What’s the LT gonna say?’
Ghost frowned.
‘What do you-?’ He smiled. ‘Oh. Yeah he’s a real hard arse. Got a soft spot for blue eyes though so I’ll just blame you.’
Johnny crawled up the bed, before straddling him and pulling off his t-shirt. Ghost’s hands immediately reached up to cup his chest, pulling and squeezing.
‘Johnny,’ he began.
‘Shouldn’t talk after lights out, sergeant,’ said Johnny. ‘Gonna get me in trouble.’
Ghost snickered.
‘Fucking hell Johnny,’ he said. ‘You’re a fucking freak.’
‘Not meant to have visitors in the captain’s quarters,’ continued Johnny, who was enjoying his role.
Ghost was trying very hard not to laugh. ‘Oh aye. Captain MacTavish is it?’
‘Soap is fine,’ replied Johnny, and leaned in to lick a hot path across Ghost’s chest before taking a nipple in his mouth and firmly sucking.
‘Fuck,’ said Ghost, breath catching in his throat.
Johnny pulled back, looking at the blush creeping into his nipple. He leaned in, sucking harder, tongue flicking over the hard nub, until it was flushed red. He smiled at the contrast in colours before kissing over his chest and taking the second in his mouth. Ghost’s breath stuttered. Beneath him his hips gave a twitch. Johnny shifted until he was lying with all his weight on top of him. He ground against him, feeling his cock rubbing insistently against his joggers.
Ghost hooked his thumbs into his waistband and eased Johnny’s joggers down. He grabbed his hips, pulling him up.
‘Hey captain,’ he said, wrapping a hand around his fattening cock, and tugging insistently. ‘Sit on my face.’
‘You don’t get to give orders sergeant,’ said Johnny, with a grin. ‘But as you’ve been good.’
Ghost’s chuckle was very abruptly muffled as Johnny sat astride him. He clutched for the headboard as Ghost dragged his tongue over his balls and between his arsecheeks, before swirling over his hole. He gasped as Ghost pressed his tongue against his rim, large hands cupping both buttocks and spreading to give him better access. Johnny’s knuckles showed white on the wood of the headboard. His neglected cock gave an insistent throb. He felt Ghost breach him, tongue sliding deeper, licking him from the inside out. Ghost pulled back, dragging his tongue back along his balls, and along the underside of his cock. Johnny jolted, his cock pulsing insistently. He tried to move back but Ghost had a firm grip on him. He continued teasing him, tongue giving just enough pressure to keep him interested, but offer no release. He whimpered as Ghost’s tongue pressed against his hole again.
Finally Ghost’s hands shifted from his behind to his hips. He lifted Johnny off him and tossed him onto the mattress. He was still wearing his boxers, soaked with pre cum, and pulled them off with a snap, throwing them to one side.
‘Tell me captain,’ he said, head cocking to one side. ‘Just how good have I been?’
‘I’ll see to it that this is mentioned in dispatches,’ said Johnny, mock-serious.
‘Bloody hell Johnny you have the worse lines,’ replied Ghost, a hand wrapped around his heavy length, slowly stroking himself up and down as he looked at him, his face flushed, limbs pliant. He grabbed for the lube on the nightstand and slicked himself wet.
Ghost dug a hand into one thigh, pulling him further apart. He pushed up against him and Johnny raised his hips, cock twitching. Just as he was considering giving Ghost an order he shoved inside with a brutal snap of his hips. He didn’t pause to let him adjust, but immediately began to hammer into him, fucking all the breath from his body, making Johnny grit his teeth at the burn. But then he hit that place that made him light up from the inside out. Johnny gasped, hands grabbing the bedsheets, bracing himself against the brutal pistoning of Ghost’s hips. He was already so close.
Ghost shifted, pulling his legs up and onto his shoulders, and fucked him even harder. Johnny couldn’t breathe, could only feel jolt after jolt of pleasure, skimming up his spine and throbbing through his bouncing cock.
His eyes glazed over as the pressure broke, heat raking through every nerve as he came. Ghost buried his face in the crook of his neck as he climaxed a second later, hips stuttering, moaning into his skin. They lay there for several seconds, both panting and glazed with sweat and spunk.
‘Don’t think much of that candle,’ said Ghost, voice hoarse, as he finally raised his head. ‘Smells like charcoal.’
Johnny glanced over to the nightstand and saw Ghost’s underwear was on fire.
‘Shit!’ he cried, Ghost turning in alarm.
He jumped off, grabbed for Johnny’s t-shirt and tried to beat out the flames. The t-shirt caught on fire too. He dropped it with a hiss. Johnny raced into the kitchen, filled a glass and came back in, throwing water over the flames and also accidentally over Ghost.
‘Good that we didn’t panic,’ said Ghost at length.
Johnny looked down at himself and saw sweat and cum and the mud of the lake.
‘I should shower.’
Ghost followed him. He grabbed the last hash brown as they moved through the living room.
‘What about a bath instead?’ suggested Johnny, as Ghost stood over his shoulder, chewing.
‘Trying for more romance are you sergeant, sorry, captain?’
‘No you’re right, we’d probably end up flooding the bathroom or summit,’ sighed Johnny.
He turned on the shower and stepped into the tub. Ghost followed. At least he’d finished the hash brown.
‘What is this?’ he asked, picking up a green bottle.
Johnny snatched it from him. ‘It’s shower gel. Not all of us scrub ourselves with carbolic.’
‘It’s antiseptic,’ said Ghost, pouting.
‘It’s fucking rank. Turn around, I’ll wash your back.’
Ghost complied. Johnny took his time, sweeping over his muscles, feeling over his raised scars with his fingertips.
‘Ghost,’ he began.
‘Hm?’ Ghost’s voice was groggy, like he’d been entranced.
‘No, nothing,’ said Johnny quickly. His hands swept down his sides, making Ghost shiver.
‘We should drink that wine,’ he said suddenly, and disappeared through the shower curtain. He reappeared, dripping, with the bottle of prosecco.
Johnny watched Ghost unwrap the neck of the bottle and quickly ducked as the cork popped.
‘Sorry,’ said Ghost. ‘Nearly took your eye out.’ He tipped the bottle up and made a face. ‘Fuck that’s nasty.’
Johnny tried some. ‘It’s not that bad.’
They stood together under the water, alternating swigs.
‘Where d’ya want to go on honeymoon?’ asked Ghost at length.
Johnny eyed him. ‘Didn’t think we were doing all that shite.’
‘Don’t see why not,’ said Ghost with a shrug. ‘I thought we could go camping.’
‘Camping?!’ Johnny’s voice echoed off the tiles. ‘You mean sleeping in a fucking tent and washing in some freezing bucket?’
‘Yeah exactly.’
‘Did you not have enough fun pitching tents with the SAS? You want to do more of it?’
‘I like camping,’ said Ghost, sounding sulky.
‘I’m not fucking camping,’ said Johnny. ‘What about Bali?’
‘Oh yeah tropical jungles are so much better.’
‘I’m gonna book us somewhere really nice,’ Johnny declared. ‘I’ll do it now.’ He stepped out the bath and almost fell over. All that prosecco had gone to his head.
‘Told you you should have eaten something,’ said Ghost, following him with a towel.
‘Where’s my phone?’ said Johnny, looking around.
‘Here use mine,’ said Ghost, handing it to him. He lay down sighing. ‘Nowhere with jungles.’
He closed his eyes. Glancing at him Johnny swiped through his phone. He had no apps other than what the phone had come with. Curiously, he tapped on his photo album.
He frowned. The image was dim and slightly blurred and it took him a moment to comprehend what he was looking at. It was him, asleep in bed, hugging the pillow, duvet pulled down to expose a length of toned, olive skinned back. Interested, he swiped to the next. It was another of him, his back to the camera, in full gear. They were walking in some dusty plain, boots scuffing up an orange cloud. The next was also him, also somewhat blurred, sitting in the heli, face turned away and smiling at someone off camera.
Fascinated now, he scrolled back to almost two years ago. Between photos of serial numbers and plants there he was, in the briefing room in the safehouse in Turkmenistan. His back was to the camera as he leant over a table, but there was no mistaking that mohawk or the broad cut of his shoulders. He glanced at the date. He’d known Ghost of all three days at that point. He felt a little catch in his chest.
‘You soft bastard,’ he said out loud, making Ghost grunt and open his eyes.
‘Hm?’
Johnny turned the phone off and set it down.
‘Nothing, love.’ He lay down next to him.
Johnny thought about all the questions he had for him. Trivial things. The sort of things you asked when you were eleven. The sort of things he and Ghost never spoke about.
‘Ghost,’ he began.
‘Soap,’ drawled Ghost, more than a little sardonically.
‘What’s your favourite film?’
Ghost chuckled. ‘What is this, question time?’
Johnny laced his hands behind his head. ‘Well?’
Ghost puffed out a breath as he thought, making his lower lip jut out. Johnny was transfixed.
‘Legally Blonde,’ he said at length.
‘Legally Blonde,’ repeated Johnny, nonplussed. ‘Why?’
Ghost shrugged.
‘Why not?’ He shifted closer. ‘What’s yours?’
Johnny thought for a moment. ‘Saving Private Ryan.’
Ghost reached out and rested a hand on his chest.
‘Never seen it,’ he replied.
‘Seriously?’ said Johnny, raising his head. ‘It’s one of the-‘
The rest of his words were lost to a hot press of Ghost’s mouth. He pulled back.
‘Seen enough war,’ he said. ‘Why would I watch it on the tv?’
As he looked up at him Johnny ran a hand over Ghost’s arm, the one puckered with burns almost all the way to his elbow. He had more questions for him, ones that weren’t trivial at all but he didn’t know if he could work up the nerve. But, here he stared intently at Ghost, they were married now. He was his husband. Perhaps he’d like to share, to have an opportunity to talk?
‘What happened?’ he asked, fingers light on textured skin. He felt Ghost flinch, like he’d slapped him.
‘What do you think?’ replied Ghost.
‘I-‘
Ghost’s eyes, so soft before, narrowed. ‘You really want to talk about that shit? Dredge all that up, right now?’ The now was punctuated by a hand gripping his hip bone, fingers gripping hot skin.
‘Sorry,’ said Johnny, pinned by the weight of his gaze.
‘Got set on fire,’ said Ghost shortly. He frowned. ‘Do you really want to hear all this bullshit? It was a long time ago.’
Johnny stared at him, trying to read the set of his face, but his expression was as blank as his mask. Hesitantly he reached out and patted Ghost’s shoulder. His other shoulder. The smooth one.
‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’
Ghost suddenly got up. He stumbled from the bed and disappeared through the doorway. Johnny stared blankly at the lampshade for a second and then jumped to his feet.
Ghost was in the narrow strip of kitchen, looking intently at the kettle.
‘We’re out of milk,’ he said.
‘Got some UHT in the cupboard,’ said Johnny. He opened one, sifting through tins and bags of pasta. He kept an eye on Ghost as he did so but he continued to stand there, gazing at the tiles, although they weren’t very interesting. Could have done with a clean really.
‘Simon,’ began Johnny.
‘I died,’ said Ghost suddenly. ‘I died and I was buried and I came back a ghost.’ He took a deep breath in. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ He glanced at Johnny. ‘Not yet. Maybe never.’
The kettle started to bubble and clicked off.
‘How many sugars?’ he asked Johnny.
‘It’s 3am, I don’t want tea.’
Ghost leaned in, resting his hands on the counter, making his triceps pop like corded steel.
‘What do you want Johnny?’ he said roughly.
‘I want-’ Johnny huffed in exasperation. ‘Ghost we’re fucking married. I just want to know you a little better.’
‘You do know me,’ replied Ghost. He sighed. ‘You know me better than anyone. What? You want me to go through every fucking scar like-like a fucking list?’
‘No!’ protested Johnny. He scratched the back of his neck. ‘Look just forget I asked. It doesn’t matter.’
He moved away from him and was brought up short by Ghost grabbing his arm.
‘Clearly does fucking matter since you’re making such a big deal out of it.’
Johnny wrenched his arm away. ‘I can’t believe you’re arguing with me.’
‘I’m not fucking arguing!’ growled Ghost and his voice cracked. ‘I don’t wanna talk about the shit that happened to me half a lifetime ago! It’s done. It’s over.’ He looked back at the wall, posture stiff.
‘So what, we just make stupid jokes and shag forever?’ said Johnny.
‘What’s wrong with that?’ said Ghost. ‘You want fucking navel-gazing you married the wrong guy.’
Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Johnny’s mouth twisted.
‘Maybe I did,’ he spat.
Oh why did he say that. The words hung in the air. Johnny wished he could claw them back. Maybe Ghost hadn’t heard-
Then his shoulders slumped. He turned to look at him, and oh now his face was all too easy to read. He looked tired.
‘Maybe you did,’ he agreed.
The flat, already small, felt smaller, like it was about to crush him. Johnny ducked back in the bedroom, dragged on clothes, grabbed his keys, and stormed out the door. He was so swift that Ghost for several seconds didn’t register he had gone. Then he heard his bare feet slapping on the concrete.
‘Johnny!’
He was already outside, breath spiralling in the cold air.
‘Johnny.’
Johnny turned around. Ghost had followed him outside.
‘Don’t be a twat. Come back inside.’
‘Says the naked man in the street,’ he said.
Johnny turned around and Ghost followed, lagging after him, obscenely, ridiculously naked. Johnny stopped, and sighed.
‘Fine,’ he finally said. He turned back.
Ghost kept a careful distance as they walked back. But as Johnny walked back up the stairwell he drew closer. By the time Johnny reached his door he was right behind him. As Johnny opened the door and stepped inside he wrapped his arms around him. Johnny squirmed.
‘I canne breathe you big bastard.’
Ghost didn’t let him go, only shuffled around so they were face to face, and forced Johnny’s face into his bare chest. He sniffed. For a second Johnny wondered if he was crying but no he was still stony faced. He shut the door. Fuck knows what the neighbours thought.
‘You’re shaking,’ Johnny finally said.
‘Cold out,’ replied Ghost.
‘Go to bed. I’ll make the tea.’
‘No,’ said Ghost shortly.
He kept a careful grip on him, hands shifting to his waist, and watched avidly as Johnny reboiled the kettle and plonked teabags into mugs. Ghost watched him pouring water like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Then he followed him, hand wedged in his back pocket, as he walked back to the bedroom.
He finally let go when Johnny unbuckled his jeans and climbed into bed, slipping under the duvet next to him. Johnny opened his mouth to apologise but it was Ghost that spoke first.
‘You get one,’ he said at length.
‘One what?’ said Johnny, picking up his mug and staring down into it.
‘One scar. One question. But not that one,’ replied Ghost.
Johnny set the mug down and slid down the bed until he was facing him.
‘I didn’t mean what I said about-‘
‘Are you gonna ask or not?’ said Ghost curtly, interrupting him.
‘Fine,’ said Johnny, a sharp edge to his voice. He stared at him and then poked a round scar in his chest. ‘That one.’
‘Oh come on,’ said Ghost, with an eye roll. ‘You were fucking there for that one.’
Johnny didn’t remove his hand, petting cold flesh. He gave Ghost’s pec a little squeeze, making him shift closer.
‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have asked.’
‘No you shouldn’t,’ said Ghost, eyes half closing at Johnny ran his thumb over a nipple. ‘But you can.’
‘Okay,’ said Johnny, leaning in. His mouth brushed against his lips. ‘This one.’
‘That one was before the army,’ replied Ghost. ‘Got glassed outside a pub.’
‘Does that count?’ said Johnny, shifting his hips so they were pressed against him.
‘Yeah it counts,’ said Ghost, his voice softening. ‘No more freebies.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Johnny.
‘Stop apologising,’ said Ghost, and he leaned in to kiss him.
Johnny kissed him back, opening up his mouth with his tongue, hands sliding down his body to dig into his arse. He thought of all the photos.
‘Simon,’ he said, as he pulled back.
Ghost’s eyes were glassy, it took them a moment to focus. ‘Hm?’
‘What did you think when you first met me?’
Ghost laughed.
‘Why are you laughing?’ said Johnny. He slapped his behind, which made Ghost laughed harder.
‘Thought you talked too much,’ said Ghost with a wry smile. ‘Hasn’t changed much has it?’
Johnny growled with exasperation. He would have moved away but Ghost grabbed for him, pulling him tight against him.
‘Thought you were fucking fit,’ said Ghost. ‘Not just how you look. I liked, I like, that you talk too much. I like how enthusiastic you are about things.’ He moved his head so he could meet his eyes. ‘Any more fucking questions?’
Johnny pressed his face into the crook of his neck.
‘No,’ he said. He watched the steady pulse of Ghost’s heart.
‘What did you think of me?’ said Ghost, surprising him. Johnny didn’t think he cared about things like that.
‘Couldn’t get the measure of you,’ said Johnny, pulling back to meet his eyes. ‘You’re hard to read.’
‘Hm. I am fit though.’
‘Oh absolutely,’ replied Johnny. ‘Pure braw.’ He squeezed a bicep to emphasize his point.
‘Speak English, MacTavish.’
Johnny leaned back in to rub his nose against his chest. Sleep dragged at the edges of him. He was pulled back by Ghost’s voice in his ear.
‘Well?’
‘Well what?’ he grumbled, blinking groggy eyes.
‘You booking this honeymoon or not?’
Eyes closing Johnny pressed closer. He yawned.
‘Tomorrow.’
‘Camping it is then,’ said Ghost, sounding pleased.
‘Fuck off no,’ said Johnny, and dropped soundly asleep.