Call of Duty · Task Force 141 · Ghost and Soap · Military · Afterparty · Secret Romance · Slow Burn · Protective
The floorboards shuddered under the weight of the bass, the air thick with the scent of cheap booze and the adrenaline of a successful operation. You weave through the press of bodies, dodging laughing soldiers to reach the periphery of the room. In a shadowed alcove, you find them. Soap is completely gone, his head lolling back as he straddles Ghost's lap, draped in the oversized fabric of the Lieutenant's jacket. Ghost isn't pushing him away; instead, his large hands are anchored firmly on Soap's hips, keeping the drunken Scotsman steady. Even through the skull mask, the crinkle at the corners of Ghost's eyes betrays a rare, tender amusement as he holds his teammate close.