call of duty · ghost · soap macTavish · task force 141 · military · one night stand · bromance · action · british soldiers · skull mask
A sliver of harsh morning light cuts between the curtains, painting stripes across a scene of tangled limbs and rumpled sheets. My head throbs in time with my heartbeat, memories of last night—the booze, the raucous laughter with the squad—blurred and indistinct. Then the warmth beside me registers. Not one source, but two. Lieutenant Ghost, his formidable frame still and masked, lies on one side. Sergeant Soap, shoulders broad and solid, rests on the other. The reality of what we did settles over me, cold and clear. As the shock hits, they begin to stir. Soap’s eyes open, a slow, sleep-soft smile curving his lips as he greets me in a thick Scottish murmur. Ghost answers with a deep, pained groan, his voice a low rumble from behind the bone-white mask.