rustymorning
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There's Ghost and Soap, and then there's Riley and MacTavish. It only makes sense that they get to know just what makes them different.
Bookmarked by rustymorning
23 Mar 2026
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Five times Simon Riley had a bad time at Christmas and the one time he didn't.
Bookmarked by rustymorning
22 Mar 2026
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Ghost arches a critical, amused brow just to watch MacTavish scowl. “Well, there’s your problem, sir. Maybe if you stopped fuckin’ women half your size you’d be gettin’ somewhere past the halfway mark.”
“And you’re suggestin’ what — that I find some girl and stick my prick up her arse?”
“It has to be a woman?”
MacTavish stares at him, struck silent. Ghost inches his knees apart and tries and fails to keep the smirk off his lips when his captain’s eyes drop. He watches as MacTavish’s throat bobs, swallowing heavily before he rasps, “I’m not gay, Riley.”
Ghost nods easily. He doesn’t spit the word, at least, doesn’t cringe away at the mere suggestion. Just a statement: he’s not gay, so he hasn’t considered asking a man. “‘S alright,” he grins, lilts his tone into something blithe and oblivious as he bends his knee, frames the bulge in his leggings just so — “More for me, I suppose.”
Series
- Part 1 of love's a fire
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 11,401
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Comments:
- 203
- Kudos:
- 4,480
- Bookmarks:
- 875
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Bookmarked by rustymorning
21 Mar 2026
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It’s easy enough to keep himself still when Johnny begins to touch him. He drags warm, firm hands across Simon’s back, his palms sliding effortlessly against skin and scars alike with the oil slicking the way. It’s as familiar as it is alien. Johnny’s hands, callused and strong. Reliable and sturdy; clever and quick. They’re the same hands that clap him on the shoulder and pat him on the arm and hand him a mug of tea.
He’s rarely had them on his bare skin. Simon runs hot; knows it because of how he’s had to act as the human furnace on missions with subzero temperatures and snow banks taller than his head. But Johnny’s hands mark their path across the plane of his back with a pleasant warmth, one that lingers even as his touch moves on.
Johnny’s palms dig into the meat at his shoulders, then push down, across his back and his ribs and his waist. By the time his hands catch at his waistband, Simon has arched into the sensation like a cat, muscles trembling. Johnny’s hands lift away and, strings cut, he collapses into the bed, breath shaking.
or: Ghost has been tense lately; Soap helps him with that.
Bookmarked by rustymorning
21 Mar 2026
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Summary
Just one bite; to taste, and let go.
Or, the on-field flirting is getting a little ridiculous.