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Fuck. That single word rumbled through Soap’s head. He was waking up to a sight that could mean nothing good: pitch black. Either he had been kidnapped by Ghost who would, in this situation, have a kink for bondage and blindfolding Soap or Soap had been kidnapped by some enemies. As much as he wished it to be the former, it was clearly the latter.
Soap felt his mind slowly fill in the details as he came to; Soap had been a sniper in his most recent mission, shooting whatever enemies he could as Ghost scouted out the area. He was on top of a building and not paying attention to his surroundings except for the areas that would help keep Ghost safe. He hadn’t noticed the creaking of the weak ladder he had used to get on top of the building or the footsteps that had approached him. He had only noticed when the approaching person was directly behind him and knocking him out by hitting him with a gun.
Now Soap was here, vision impaired by a bag over his head, tied to a chair, and stripped of his comms and anything else the enemies deemed useful. He could hear faint voices nearby, but it was too muffled to make out what they were saying. Soap wasn’t too worried, though. He knew his team would save him eventually. He knew Ghost would notice quickly that Soap wasn’t responding on comms.
Although Soap was hopeful that his team would get here before he was tortured for information, he knew he wasn’t in any real danger. They wouldn’t kill him; Soap was too valuable of an asset to kill. He had too much information that the enemies would get greedy for, which would be their downfall.
Soap hadn’t been worried even as he heard the door of the room he was in opening and two people’s footsteps approaching him. He hadn’t been worried up until he heard one fragment of a sentence from them: “… Yeah, higher-ups say this truth serum is the shit. Personally, I don’t think it will work.” If they were truly working with truth serum, Soap could only hope that it was either ineffective or in early, experimental stages.
Soap hoped it was simply ineffective, he didn’t feel like being a guinea pig for their weird science-y bullshit. If it was truly in early stages, there could be side effects, and side effects meant that Soap could end up dead, even if the enemies didn’t want him dead.
Soap was not excited to deal with these cocky bastards who probably thought they were all that just because they had managed to capture Soap. Soap wasn’t in the mood. Sometimes, he wouldn’t mind the chance to get snarky with his captors, to mess with them and annoy them. This time, he wasn’t so eager, especially because of this supposed truth serum.
The other person in the room, the one who wasn’t the one who accidentally revealed the existence of the truth serum to Soap, scoffed at the other person’s statement and spoke, “Come on, I’ve told you a thousand times, it’s not a truth serum, it’s called an Honesty Bringer. I didn’t think of a cool name for it just for you to call it a truth serum.” Soap could hear the fondness in the man’s voice as he spoke to the other. He wondered if the man his captor was speaking to knew.
Soap felt a twinge of anxiety in his chest as the other man spoke, “Whatever, man, let’s just inject this ‘Honesty Bringer’ or whatever and get this interrogation over with so we can go home.” Soap felt a cold hand on his arm and jerked away from it. He started to thrash around, doing anything he could to get away from the man’s cold touch. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get away, but he wanted to make this as hard as possible, or at the very least buy a few more seconds of time.
Despite his thrashing around, Soap’s captor ended up being able to find his vein and inject him with their so-called Honesty Bringer. Soap let out a low growl at the pain. It didn’t hurt much, but he had been tensed up and he was blinded by the bag so it had caught him off guard and hurt more than it should have. He didn’t feel anything initially, which was probably supposed to happen because he heard the two men leave the room. From context clues, Soap assumed this might take a while to set in.
About fifteen minutes later, Soap started feeling an odd tingling feeling. He felt a pit of dread build up in his stomach. Thankfully, his captors hadn’t come back yet. He was hoping that they had wildly overestimated the time that the Honestly Bringer took to set in, or at least overestimated it enough that his team would be able to save him. Honestly, Soap found the name “Honesty Bringer” to be stupid. That first guy was right.
Soap heard shots ringing through the halls. That either meant something very bad or, the more likely option, Soap’s team was finally here to save him. He heard doors being slammed open, likely in search of him. The noises got closer and closer, Soap held his breathe in anticipation until, finally, his door was the one being flung open. He heard footsteps run towards him and finally heard a familiar voice, “Johnny!” It was Ghost, which was to be expected. Soap felt the bag on his head be torn off, his eyes blinded by the bright lights of the interrogation room.
Soap took in a deep breath, finally being able to breath without that scratchy bag in his face. “Took ye long enough, LT.” Ghost was already untying the ropes that bound Soap to the chair as he spoke.
“Got here as quick as I could, Johnny. Fuckin’ annoying to locate you.” Soap nodded as Ghost finished untying him. Ghost handed Soap his knife, his gun had been taken to god knows where. The knife was nice. It was sharp with a good grip, “SR” engraved on the bottom of it. If Soap pocketed it later, that was his business and only his business.
Soap would never admit it, but he took things of Ghost’s when he could. He would hold and caress them. It made Soap feel comforted and soothed away the loneliness that usually burdened him. He had managed to steal a shirt of his one time. He pressed it against his face every time he slept until Ghost’s scent was completely gone.
Ghost led Soap through the building, shooting any stragglers that managed to hide away from Ghost’s initial sweep of the place. Finally, they had made it outside to a safe distance away. Soap slumped down against a tree, the ropes had been tied too-tight and he felt the impressions of it on his skin ache. Ghost observed him and spoke, “Are you okay, Soap?”
Soap had planned to reply with something sarcastic, but he physically couldn’t. He felt a quickly growing stabbing pain in his chest that made him feel like he had to tell the truth. Soap’s hand flew to his chest and dug his nails in at the pain. Finally, he choked out an honest response, “No! No, I was injected with a damn truth serum if I’m to believe what my captors said, and I’m damn terrified!” Soap coughed and inhaled sharply, the pain fading away. His face flushed, realizing that he had just told Ghost that he was scared. Fuck, he felt pathetic. “You cannae ask me any questions, Ghost,” Soap finally said in a low tone. He shut his eyes tightly, ashamed.
Ghost raised his eyebrow but nodded, respecting Soap’s wishes.
—
The ride back to base was quiet. Soap didn’t want to speak in the fear of accidentally saying something he shouldn’t, and Ghost didn’t speak so he didn’t accidentally ask something worded as enough of a question for the truth serum to take effect.
Soap had realized the truth serum wasn’t just making him more honest to others, but also to himself. Every time he had been sent on a mission with Ghost, on the ride back he would stare at Ghost. Soap had written it off in any way he could— Mainly he would use the excuse of being tired and needing a static thing for his eyes to lock onto. But now? He couldn’t stop thinking about how he loved staring into Ghost’s gorgeous eyes, thinking about his long eyelashes and how he would worship and kiss every inch of Ghost’s face if he let him.
Soap’s face was a bright red by the time they got back to base. Soap had been relieved that Ghost hadn’t commented on it. He was even more relieved that Ghost hadn’t said anything about the dazed look on his face that Soap would refuse to call loving if not for the serum.
It was a weird feeling not being able to control his thoughts, especially when some of the thoughts were about things he hadn’t even realized about himself yet, like how he seeks out Ghost’s praise because he never got much from others.
Soap had immediately gone to medical. Medical had advised that he stay out of missions until he stopped feeling like he’d been stabbed in the chest hundreds of times every time he wanted to tell a lie.
Soap let out a sigh. He knew he wouldn’t be able to go on any missions until this truth serum stuff had been sorted out, but that didn’t make hearing it any less annoying. Soap would be a liability. Not being able to go on missions meant he would have to work on paperwork, something he wasn’t at all fond of. At least the paperwork would give him an excuse to be away from Ghost. He couldn’t let himself accidentally tell Ghost about how nice his ass is or how Soap loves when his eyes subtly shift through the mask, unintentionally showing Soap that he’s smiling.
If Soap doesn’t verbally say a truth every once in a while, he feels that stabbing pain come back. So, every so often, he’ll whisper a truth, like “I wish Ghost would kiss me,” or “I would do anything for Simon.” The truths were mostly about Ghost. Ghost took up most of his thoughts.
—
This truth serum was strong.
Days later, he had still felt the exact same stabbing feeling every time he wasn’t fully truthful. It was lessened, but it felt like an hourglass was counting the time. It was a painstakingly slow process. Soap was finding it hard to keep making excuses to avoid Ghost. It was even harder since they had to be at least a bit truthful. Eventually, he had given up. Soap decided he would stop avoiding Ghost. He would just have to hope Ghost wouldn’t ask anything too question-like.
Soap approached the cafeteria after twenty minutes of staring at his bedroom door and contemplating. He knew he would have to eat at some point, so he gave in and started walking. He had immediately spotted Ghost. He was eating in the corner like an emo fuck. Soap had to hold back a snort. It was so in character for Ghost to eat in a corner.
Soap could have sworn he felt Ghost’s eyes on him the moment he stepped into the room, it was as if he was waiting for Soap. Soap ignored it; Ghost probably hadn’t even seen him yet, that or he wasn’t just watching the door for him and was being paranoid in general.
Soap grabbed his food, approached the table, and sat down. Ghost’s eyes pierced through him fiercely. Soap had to admit to himself that it turned him on to be under such an intense gaze. Soap cringed as he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about if Ghost would have such an intense gaze in the bedroom. Ghost spoke, “You’ve been avoiding me, Mactavish.”
Soap winced. He knew he couldn’t avoid the question. The stabbing feeling swiftly built itself up, so he blurted out an answer, “Aye, I was scared I would tell ye how nice yer ass looks.” Soap curled in on himself and covered his face in humiliation.
Ghost was clearly smirking under the mask. Soap hadn’t even had to look to see it, he could sense it. “Really now, Johnny?”
Soap let out a groan and spoke quickly before the stabbing feeling could start again, “Aye, Ghost, I was scared I’d tell ye about how I go out of my way to go to the gym when ye do so I can stare at yer ass.” Soap ate as fast as he could to avoid anymore questions about how he feels about Ghost’s ass, or other parts of Ghost’s body for that matter. “Have to go, LT.” Soap let out a sigh of relief that the truth serum accepted that answer as adequate.
Ghost raised an eyebrow, “Why so soon, Johnny?” Soap could feel the response readying itself to force itself out. He knew what it would be. He knew, so he tried to hold it back. Soap put in a valiant effort, but by the time he was on the floor in pain, he had to choke out an answer, “Dinnae-want-to-tell-ye-that-I-love-ye.” Soap said in a jumbled mess, coughed sharply, and looked up at Ghost in horror.
Soap rushed to stand up and then, with impressive speed, bolted out of there before he could even hear Ghost’s answer. He didn’t have to hear it. He knew, at best, Ghost would pretend he never heard it and, at worst, he would be written up for it and even possibly moved.
There was no way the stone-cold killing machine of Ghost would love him back. Simon Riley still existed, but Ghost had pushed that part of himself down as far as he could to keep himself from anymore pain. Ghost wouldn’t love Soap. He couldn’t.
Fuck, there it was. A knocking on Soap’s room door that couldn’t be good. He stood up slowly. He felt nauseous. He hoped Ghost didn’t clearly hear what he said, or that he was planning to tell Soap that he would forget it happened because of how long they’d worked together.
Soap felt like he was going to vomit. He hesitantly opened the door and watched as Ghost brushed past him into his room. Soap closed the door. “Johnny, I didn’t mean to force out your feelings like that. I was teasing you, I didn’t realize the truth serum was still working so strongly.”
Soap sat down on his bed, his fists awkwardly laid on his lap, tightly clenched. Soap nodded. He was waiting for Ghost to say the response that he knew was coming eventually: “I don’t feel the same,” or “You shouldn’t be feeling this.” He was waiting for another metaphorical knife to stab him, just like the truth serum would whenever he tried to lie, but it never came. “Johnny, I feel the same. I love you, too, but I won’t force you into a relationship if you aren’t ready.”
Soap froze. Out of all of the times he had thought about how Ghost would react when he revealed his love, he never thought it would be like this. “Really?” Soap’s voice cracked. He felt pathetic.
Ghost took off his mask to show how genuine he was being. Soap stared in awe. The times he had seen Ghost’s face had been few and far between. He had always thought it was gorgeous, scars and all. “Of course,” he heard Ghost say. Soap moved closer to Ghost. He cupped Ghost’s face in his hands and stared lovingly.
Soap whispered, “Fuckin’ ‘ell, Si, you’re gorgeous.” He felt Ghost‘s arms wrap around him. It was more comforting than Ghost could ever know. Soap leaned in and kissed Ghost softly and passionately, as if nothing else in the world mattered. Ghost kissed him back. Soap felt like he was dreaming. This didn’t feel real. Soap pulled away from the kiss and pinched himself. This was real. “I love you, Ghost.”
“I love you, too, Johnny.” Soap squeezed Ghost impossibly closer. Everything felt perfect. Everything was perfect.