Archive of Our Own ^beta

Soap had been feeling off for the last couple of weeks. Which he wasn't too worried about, since he could think of at least five potential causes for it on the top of his head.

Namely—the flu, not enough vitamins, a stress-induced heat, seasonal depression, or he could simply not be getting enough sleep each night. Any of them could be the culprit.

But by this point Soap was starting to get frustrated that his flu/stress-heat/whatever it was, had seemingly stagnated. His symptoms weren't getting better any better or worse, even as started eating an orange every morning, and even picked up some omega vitamins that would surely do the job.

But nothing happened, and Soap was stuck feeling like he was about to break out into a bad cold any day now. His body was constantly tired and aching, his energy at an all time low. Even his feet were swollen—for some unknown reason—and by now Soap had to step out of the mess whenever bacon was being prepared.

It was getting bad enough that the others had noticed it too.

"You're burning up," Gaz commented as he pressed the back of his blissfully cold hand against Soap's forehead. "You sure this is nothing?"

"Probably just a stress-induced heat that refuses to get started, I've had plenty of those in my life," Soap waved him off.

And Gaz had accepted his word, because it made sense. And it wasn't like Soap's symptoms were bad enough for him to start seriously worrying about him just yet.

Price had been a lot more straightforward in his approach.

"You can have a week off, if you need it," he'd said, cornering Soap when he was trying to slink back early after a workout session. Soap was feeling uncharacteristically moody, most likely due to the fact that his arms had suddenly given out after a measly ten pull-ups.

"I'm fine," he grumbled, stepping around Price. Something Price allowed him to do, although that didn't stop him from following Soap all the way back to his private room—one of the perks that came with being an omega in the military.

"It's starting to affect your work," Price continued. Soap knew that he was technically right, but the mere suggestion that he was unable to do his job because of a simple flu or a silly stress-heat made Soap's blood boil. "I can't have you collapsing in front of the recruits, Soap."

"I'll sleep it off," Soap said through gritted teeth, unlocking his door at record speed just to have an excuse to get away from Price. "I'm going to bed, goodnight."

He didn't wait for Price to answer, the worried frown on his face the last thing Soap saw before closing the door in his face. He made sure to lock it too, just for good measure.

He knew Price meant well—Gaz too, for that matter. But Soap was fine. He'd been through much worse than this—broken bones and concussions and going into heat in enemy territory. And Soap had handled all of them, because that was what he did.

It didn't take long for Price's footsteps to disappear back down the corridor. Soap waited an extra minute just to make sure he was gone before he unlocked the door and slunk back outside. He'd planned on changing out of his gym clothes and tidying himself up for the night before he snuck over to Ghost's room, but he didn't want to wait any longer. He needed to see him now.

Thankfully it didn't take Ghost more than a few seconds to open the door for him, as if he'd been expecting Soap to be early.

"Johnny."

"Lt."

The curt nods they exchanged felt as stiff and silly as ever, Ghost glancing down both directions of the corridor before letting Soap slip inside the door. They couldn't risk giving anyone the fuel to start a rumor about them. Not now, when they'd been successfully sneaking around for months without anyone noticing.

"You doing alright?"

Soap groaned and rolled his eyes. "Not you too."

"Price mentioned you've seemed off all day," Ghost answered with a shrug. Even though Soap was annoyed with him for bringing it up—again—he didn't protest as Ghost closed the distance between them, nuzzling their cheeks together.

"I'm fine," Soap reassured him, the words breaking halfway through due to a sudden purr. He cleared his throat. "I'll be good as new tomorrow."

Ghost's dismissive hum made it clear he didn't believe him.

"Your scent's been different lately. Sweeter."

"Probably just a stress heat."

Soap's arguments were becoming weaker and weaker every time he had to use them. Because if it really was a stress heat, it should have broken out long ago. It should already be over. But it wasn't.

Ghost looked like he wanted to keep arguing, so Soap quickly continued.

"I didn't come here for a scolding."

"You sure? Seemed to enjoy it plenty yesterday."

Smug bastard.

Soap couldn't believe that this was the alpha he had somehow fallen for. And that he'd have it no other way.

They soon tumbled onto Ghost's bed, the layers of softness that Soap had added to create a nest making it feel like home, even when Soap knew he shouldn't even be there.

But he didn't care that fraternization between soldiers was heavily frowned upon, something that was only made worse by the fact that Ghost was not just his superior officer, but also an alpha. But the heart wanted what the heart wanted, and Soap's craved the kind of protection and care that could only come from Ghost's guiding touch.

By the time the sun rose in the morning, Soap was already out Ghost's door, sneaking back to his own room to get ready for the day. The flu, or stress heat—or whatever—still hadn't broken out, leaving Soap irritated and weirdly upset that his body wasn't acting the way he expected it to.

At least he had an operation coming up in a couple of days. Something to keep his mind off things, to force him to get active and moving again. That was just what he needed. Probably.

"You sure you're up for it?" Price had asked the night before they were shipping out. "There's no shame in staying back if you feel like you need it."

"I want to do it," Soap reassured him. "I can do it."

Price watched him for a long moment. He could force Soap to stay back, if he wanted to. But he also knew that treating Soap like he was made of glass would lead to getting the silent treatment for at least a month. Besides, what was he supposed to put on the resulting report? 'Sergeant MacTavish has been more irritable than usual and failed to do his usual number of pull-ups, so he stayed home' sounded laughably bad.

So the following morning Soap stood next to the others on the tarmac, pretending that his pack didn't feel heavier than usual, even though it held nothing but his usual equipment,

It was fine. He was probably just out of practice. As soon as they got up in the air, his training and instincts would kick in, and everything would be normal again.

Except that didn't happen. If anything, Soap felt even worse. The loud whirring of the aircraft, which was usually nothing more than annoying background noise, sounded like nails on a chalkboard. The air felt stuffy, making it harder to get a proper breath in, and no matter how hard Soap tried to force it down, he couldn't stop the feeling of nausea and lightheadedness that followed.

Ghost's elbow pressed against his own lightly, startling him.

"Alright, Johnny?"

Soap hated making others worry about him—especially Ghost.

"I'm fine," Johnny lied. His hope that things would get better once he had his feet on solid, enemy ground was quickly dwindling. "The air's a bit stuffy, don't you think?"

Ghost's considering hum made it clear that no, he did not think that.

"Just don't push yourself too hard."

Soap clenched his jaw tightly. He knew Ghost didn't mean anything bad by it, but hearing those words coming from him of all people still stung. Because Soap was used to being underestimated, constantly told that he couldn't handle life in the military, all because he happened to be an omega. And Soap had proven those people wrong, over and over again—so why couldn't he do that now? Why was his body feeling so off, even when it had no right to? Why did it have to betray him, making him look weak in front of those he trusted and looked up to the most?

No. Soap had fought through much worse than trembling knees and a newfound sensitivity to strong scents and loud noises. This was nothing but another basic operation, one that wouldn't take more than a day or two. Soap would be just fine.

And it did seem like things were going that way at first. Soap had felt a bit queasy even when his feet were back on solid ground, but a brisk walk to the compound they'd be investigating had sorted that right out. It hadn't taken long for Soap's adrenaline to spike, the graveness of the situation settling in and forcing his body to prepare for a fight, whether it wanted to or not. Soap had always been able to work well under pressure, and today was no different.

Things didn't go as planned—did they ever?—and only a few hours into the op Soap found himself alone after getting separated from the rest of the group. Normally he wouldn't mind, especially when Ghost was watching his six through his sniper scope. But today Ghost wasn't on overwatch, and for the first time in a long time Soap felt exposed, alone. The cold sweat gathering on the back of his neck didn't only come from the anxiety that came with getting separated from the rest of his group, but also because he couldn't trust his body and his natural instincts. His aim wasn't as steady as it should have been, his knees felt as if he'd been running for ten miles straight, and every sound startled him rather than making him more focused.

At the moment, he was alone. But how long would that end up being the case? It was only a matter of time until someone found him, whether it be friend or foe. And as much as he hated to admit it, Soap was in no shape to take on a hostile.

Soap needed to get away. He needed to hide until the surrounding gunfire had stopped, so he could tell Price that he'd been wrong, that he couldn't do this. He'd be sent on his way back to the safety of their base, where he could hide away in the nest he'd built in Ghost's bed, and then maybe—just maybe—whatever was plaguing him would finally pass, and everything could go back to normal again. No more fevers, no more painful aches.

Soap's legs trembled as he moved towards the edge of the forest. Away from the open compound and the gunfire, away from the hostiles he was supposed to take down. Soap couldn't deal with any of that, not now. He needed to get to safety, he needed to lay down and curl up into a ball and wait it out, until the fighting stopped and Ghost could come find him and assure him everything was going to be alright.

Soap's ears were ringing, bright white spots slowly eating away at his field of vision until he barely knew which direction he was moving in.

Protect. Nest. Safe. That was all that mattered.

Another gunshot, closer this time, was all it took for Soap to fall to his knees with a broken whimper. His arms instinctively wrapped around his stomach, protecting the most vulnerable part of himself, as he floated somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness. His mind knew what it had to do—Protect, nest, safe—but his body refused to cooperate. It had already given in, demanding rest, no matter the consequences.

The last thing Soap remembered was pressing down on the button to activate his comms, hoping that whatever whimpering and panting he managed to get out before everything went black would be enough.

~~~~~~

Ghost hadn't worried when he'd been separated from the rest of the group. It was all part of the job, and he'd always done his best work alone. Except that it was—apparently—a lot harder to work alone when he knew that Soap was nearby, and that he wasn't up to his usual standard.

Soap was strong—Ghost knew that better than anyone. But something had clearly been off about him for the last couple of weeks, and Ghost didn't like him joining this operation one bit. It made his skin crawl, made him feel wrong. Made him want to push Soap back onto the aircraft and lock him in there, to keep him safe.

But Ghost didn't have the right to do any of that, so he ignored the feeling and pushed on as he would any other day. Soap could take care of himself, even when he wasn't at his best.

The ruckus at the compound had nearly died down when the comm in Ghost's ear sparked to life. At first, he believed it had been a mistake, the silence filled with nothing but light static and some panting that was just another part of the job. But then came a weak whimper that Ghost knew all too well, and his blood ran cold.

"S-S-Si—"

The static returned in full force, the other end going silent.

"Johnny?" Simon rasped back, even though he knew nothing would come from it. Whatever had happened to Soap, it was clear he wasn't in a position where he could talk or push down on the button needed to activate the comms again.

Why hadn't he spoken up earlier? It had been painfully obvious that Soap wasn't up for this operation, so why had Ghost allowed him to come along? Soap should be at home, safe in their nest, healing from whatever it was ailing him. He shouldn't be out here, hurt, or injured, or-

"Ghost, find him," Price barked through the comms. Ghost didn't need to be told twice, immediately on the move. Operation be damned, getting Soap to safety was much more important.

Ghost got to work scanning the perimeter of the compound, as he would any time he'd lost sight of one of his men. Although he tried his hardest to remain calm, it was impossible when he knew that Soap was out there. Alone and injured—potentially fatally. Ghost needed to be with him, should never have left his side to begin with.

It didn't take long for him to pick up Soap's scent. Sweet and thick, even through the scent blockers he knew Soap used religiously. It had been slowly growing stronger, something Ghost was eternally grateful for as he was able to quickly locate Soap, curled up on his side close to the woods. Two fingers against the side of his neck let him know that he was alive, making Ghost finally able to breathe again. He couldn't see any signs of blood or other injuries as he looked him over, and Soap's scent was tinged with the telltale sourness of stress rather than the sharpness that was physical pain.

Soap hadn't been shot, he wasn't bleeding out. But he was still unconscious, whimpering softly even as Ghost did his best to comfort him.

"You're alright," he tried to reassure him, even though he had no idea if Soap could hear him or not. He impatiently tugged one of his gloves off and pressed his wrist against the side of Soap's neck, scenting him. "I've got you, Johnny."

Both Soap's heartbeat and breathing were faster than normal, but at least they remained strong and steady. Ghost focused on the sensation of Soap's strong pulse against his skin as he radioed the others.

"I found Soap. He's unconscious, but stable." His free hand moved to stroke through Soap's hair, gently pulling the strands away from his pretty face.

"Need any help getting him to exfil?"

"No need, I've got him. We'll be there in ten."

Even though he was stable at the moment, it was clear Soap needed medical attention. Something Ghost should have pushed him into doing weeks ago, when all of this had started. But Soap had reassured him that it was fine, that it would pass, and Ghost had believed him, purely because he didn't want anything to be wrong.

But he clearly hadn't been fine, and Ghost should have known better. He shouldn't have allowed Soap to take the risk of coming out here, not when it was detrimental to his health and well-being. But Ghost had been too afraid of pushing him away, now that Soap finally trusted him enough to nest in his room and sleep by his side every single night. Ghost couldn't risk losing that by pushing back, not when he knew how much Soap hated being belittled.

Ghost gathered him into his arms, making sure Soap's head was properly supported as he made his way towards where he knew exfil would be waiting. Soap's brows remained furrowed, the occasional whimper the only sound he made for the entire walk.

No matter what was wrong, Ghost would find a way to fix him. Whatever it took.

Price and Gaz hadn't returned by the time Ghost reached the waiting aircraft. He gently lowered Soap to lay across one of the rows of seats, gently petting his hair and watching his expression for any signs of pain or discomfort before he gave him a more thorough look over. No bruising, no blood, no signs of injuries or broken bones. Which was both a relief and terrifying. Because broken bones was something Soap could have handled, while this mystery illness was taking its toll on him.

Ghost loosened his gear and pulled Soap's shirt up, just to reassure himself that he wasn't bleeding internally. As Ghost pressed down around the outline of his ribs, Soap finally stirred, his eyes fluttering open. Bright blue eyes looked up at him, brows still furrowed in confusion, but not in pain.

"Welcome back," Ghost said softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss against Soap's forehead, since Price and Gaz had yet to return.

"Simon? What happened?" Soap mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. He attempted to sit up, but Ghost quickly put a hand on his chest, keeping him down.

"We don't know the extent of your injuries yet. Better safe than sorry."

Soap pouted at him, pulling a chuckle out of Ghost, his heart immediately feeling ten times lighter. Soap was alright. He was safe, he was awake, and everything would be just fine.

"I'm-" Soap cut himself off, knowing that any attempt to reassure Ghost that he was fine was a hopeless endeavor.

"Just rest, yeah? Medical will look you over once we've landed."

Soap's lips remained a tight, unamused line, but for once he didn't argue back. Even he knew that things had gone too far, that he needed help.

"Alright, Simon."

Ghost glanced down at Soap's lips, which remained tense even though he was smiling. He couldn't hear any signs of the others getting closer just yet, meaning that they still had time, just the two of them.

Ghost leaned in, slotting their lips together in a gentle kiss. An attempt to reassure both of them that everything was alright, that whatever was wrong would pass. Soap kissed him back, just a simple pressing of lips against lips, trembling slightly as Ghost pulled away at the sound of footsteps getting closer.

Soap’s smile seemed more genuine this time, and by the time Price and Gaz entered the aircraft, he appeared to be perfectly fine—at least to an untrained eye. Smiling and laughing and reassuring them that he had stumbled and hit his head, that he was going to get checked out as soon as they landed.

Every instinct in Ghost's body screamed at him to hold Soap's hand. To sit down next to him, to place his omega's head in his lap to give him a chance to get the rest he needed and deserved. But he didn't, because Price was watching, and Price couldn't know about them.

Although that didn't stop Ghost from remaining by Soap's side for the entire flight, his eyes locked onto him as if he would wither away if Ghost was to look away for even a second. If anybody else noticed, they didn't comment on it, because they knew that Ghost and Soap had grown closer over the last year, and they knew that Ghost's alpha instincts had a habit of going rogue sometimes. There was nothing wrong about an alpha taking care of one of their omega subordinates, after all.

~~~~~~

Ghost had been pacing back and forth for well over an hour by now.

He knew that he didn't need to stay here, fretting outside the medical room Soap had been taken into upon their landing. He could leave, get a shower, grab a cup of tea, and when Soap was released, someone would let him know. He could still be there when Soap walked out, whenever that might be.

But Ghost refused to leave. He had even growled under his breath when Price dared to even suggest that he abandon Soap. Because someone needed to be there for him, and Ghost had to be that someone. Nobody else knew it yet, but Soap was Ghost's omega. His to care for, his to love, his to protect. He'd already let Soap down before, by allowing him to follow along even when he clearly wasn't okay. By not pushing back enough, by allowing Soap to pretend that he was alright, simply because Ghost needed him to be alright too.

Ghost had no idea how much time had passed by the time the door to the exam room opened, Soap taking a few hesitant steps out, not quite meeting Ghost's gaze even as Ghost hurried over to him. His scent was sour with anxiety and unspoken worries, heavy and uncomfortable in the back of Ghost's throat.

It wasn't often that Ghost had seen him like this—small and vulnerable, something he knew Soap hated being perceived as. But Ghost knew of no better words to explain his sloping shoulders, his bowed head, his scent morphing into something close to fear as Ghost got closer.

"Johnny? What's wrong?" Ghost's heart was pounding away in his chest, Soap's stress and anxiety feeding into his own until he could barely breathe.

"We should talk," was all Soap said.

Fuck.

That bad, wasn't it? It had to be, since Soap couldn't even look at him, his scent so clouded with fear and anxiety that they were both close to drowning in it. Ghost forced his growing despair down. It wouldn't do Soap any good if he started panicking as well.

"We could talk in my office?"

A nice, neutral space, that wasn't clouded with their combined scents. One where Soap would get a chance to speak freely without being interrupted.

"Could we go to your bedroom instead?" Soap suggested, eyes hovering somewhere around Ghost's shoulder. As if he couldn't even bear to look at him.

The use of your bedroom rather than our bedroom left a sour taste in Ghost's mouth.

"Whatever you need, Johnny."

Ghost hated how distant Soap felt as they made their way back towards the barracks. He wanted nothing more than to nuzzle up against him, covering Soap's growing unease with his own scent, comforting him until Soap felt like himself again. But Ghost couldn't do that to him, not when Soap had just received bad news and clearly wanted space.

Once inside, Soap remained standing in the middle of the room, glancing at the nest he'd made in their bed. Messy, and still drenched with their combined scents, just the way Ghost liked it the most. It hadn't even been a day since they'd last been in it, although it felt like a lifetime ago.

Soap turned away, as if he couldn't stand looking at it.

"The nurse did a check-up, to figure out why I collapsed," Soap said suddenly, his voice loud in the deafening silence. Ghost remained quiet, barely daring to breathe from the fear of making Soap stop now that he was finally talking. "She found the source of it."

Soap's eyes met his for a brief few seconds before his gaze fell back to the floor. He opened his mouth, then closed it, his brows furrowing into a deep frown that Ghost desperately wanted to kiss from his face.

"Simon, I'm pregnant."

Out of all the things Ghost had been expecting him to say, that hadn't been one of them. He half-expected Soap's face to split into a grin, for him to go 'April fools' even though it was the middle of October. But Soap didn't. He stared down at the cheap laminate flooring, his panicked scent so thick it had filled the entire room.

"…What?" was all Ghost managed to choke out. Because while they weren't as safe as they should have been, the chances of Soap getting pregnant were still slim. Male omegas could get pregnant, but it usually took months of trying and very specific timing to make it happen, so neither Ghost nor Soap had thought much about the stack of unused condoms in their nightstand.

But it explained all his symptoms. How Soap had been feeling off for weeks, why he'd gotten weaker than usual, why his scent had been sweeter. His body must have been freaking out, trying to figure out what had happened to it, why everything was changing. And Soap only kept pushing himself through it all, which had in turn made everything worse.

Ghost let out a shaky breath, relief flooding him. Soap was fine. He wasn't hurt, or injured, or slowly withering away. He was just pregnant.

Pregnant, with what Ghost could only assume was his baby. If it had been any other alpha who'd put a baby in his belly, Soap's scent would feel wrong and uninviting. But it didn't. Apart from the thick cloud that was the stress and anxiety he'd carried with him for so long, it was sweet and sunny and wonderful. Soap was carrying his baby.

Ghost had never in a million years thought he'd get the chance to start a family, but here it was, right in front of him, Soap watching him with tentative eyes. One of his hands was resting on his lower stomach, as if he could feel the change in his body now that he knew what was happening to him.

Soap cleared his throat, licking his lips anxiously. "I understand if you don't want anything to do with me anymore, but I-"

Ghost was immediately by his side, one hand resting on Soap's lower back as he nuzzled their cheeks together. Mixing their scents in an attempt to calm Soap's growing anxiety.

"Johnny, don't say that."

But Soap only shook his head, pawing weakly at Ghost's chest, as if he couldn't figure out if he wanted to push him away or pull him in closer and never let go.

"I know it's not something we've discussed, like at all. But I want to keep it. You don't have to be involved if you don't want to, I could transfer somewhere else and you wouldn't have to see us-"

Soap only stopped talking when Ghost reached out to hold his face between his hands, shushing him gently. Ghost had never seen him like this before. So scared and anxious, yet so determined, already having made up his mind about what he was going to do, with or without Ghost's support.

"I want this too, Johnny."

Soap sobbed, a small, broken sound that Ghost never wanted to hear ever again.

"Simon-"

"It's alright, love. Everything's gonna be alright."

Soap collapsed into his waiting arms, holding onto Ghost so tightly he could barely breathe. He was trembling, the poor thing, all the worries and anxiety he'd experienced during the last few weeks finally able to ebb out of his body. Ghost held him through it all, rumbling low and deep in his chest to help calm him down.

"Just breathe, Johnny. I'm not going anywhere."

Soap kept clinging onto him for dear life, but his panicked breathing against the side of Ghost's neck soon calmed into a regular rhythm, his hold on Ghost no longer tight enough to bruise.

"That's it. You're alright."

Soap's hands stroked up and down his back, his touch grounding both of them. He nodded against Ghost's shoulder, his body finally relaxing as his scent mellowed into something warm and inviting.

"Didn't even know I could get pregnant," Soap chuckled, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes before he pulled back enough to meet Ghost's eyes. Bright blue and beautiful as ever. "Well, I suppose I did know I could, I just didn't think it would ever happen, especially not accidentally. I know people who had to try for years before they managed it."

Ghost stroked a comforting hand up and down his back, deep rumbles still reverberating through his chest at picking up on his omega's sweet, comforted scent again. "Neither did I," he confessed. "But I can't say I'm disappointed about it, even though it's a surprise."

Soap's lips twitched up into a smile. Smaller and more tentative than usual, but genuine nonetheless.

"Yeah? You a family man, Simon?"

Ghost's throat suddenly felt uncomfortably tight, and he opted for a simple nod, not daring to speak. Soap's smile only widened, cupping his face between his hands.

"Good thing that's what you're gonna be then."

"Y-yeah."

Their lips met in a gentle kiss that melted away the last sour notes in Soap's scent, along the last traces of his anxiety. The sweetness that Ghost had been picking up on for the last two weeks was now back in full bloom. It was so obvious, now that he knew what it was. It was common knowledge that an omega's scent grew syrupy when they were pregnant. Ghost just hadn't realized that was something he should be looking out for.

The kiss deepened into something more desperate and needy, Soap tugging impatiently on the gear Ghost was still wearing.

"Want you," Soap mumbled against his lips, sharp, tiny fangs pressing down dangerously against Ghost's bottom lip.

"I need to shower first," Ghost rasped, causing Soap to let out a disappointed groan.

"We can fuck in the shower," Soap suggested, one hand sneaking down to toy with Ghost's belt. His lips turned downward into a pout as Ghost moved his hand away.

"I'm not fucking you anywhere where you risk slipping and falling now that you're pregnant."

Soap shivered. For a moment Ghost believed he would keep arguing, but he didn't protest as Ghost stepped back to loosen his gear. Soap merely watched, one corner of his lips turned up into a playful smile as he moved to sit in their shared nest, still wonderfully messy from the day before.

"You better be quick then, or I'm getting started without you."

As if he wouldn't immediately drop all his clothes and get on all fours the second Ghost stepped into the bathroom.

"You can get started all you want, as long as I get to finish you off."

Soap rewarded him with a soft purr, watching Ghost undress from beneath heavy lids. Normally Ghost hated leaving dirty gear all over his floor, but right now he was much more interested in getting to Soap as quickly as possible. Tidying up could wait until later. Much later.

Once he stood under the lukewarm spray of water the realization that he was going to be a dad hit Ghost in full force. A dad. Something he never in a million years thought would happen. He'd never bothered making plans for the future, as he'd always assumed that he'd one day die in the field. The only plans he'd made was about where his ashes were to be scattered, if his body was able to be recovered.

But now he had the outlines of a future, a whole life, drawn up in front of him. Retirement, creating a home, celebrating milestones and birthdays. Waking up next to Johnny every morning, and falling asleep next to him every night.

Ghost turned the water off, resting his forehead against the wall as he gave himself a minute to collect himself. He didn't dare hope so freely, not yet. Not when there were still plenty of things that could go wrong. He had to stay in the here and now, focusing on what he already had. Namely an excited—most definitely naked by now—omega nesting in his bed.

Ghost barely bothered toweling off, water dripping onto the floor as he stepped out of the bathroom, only to be met by the sight of Soap—fully nude, as expected—spread out on his bed. Presenting for him, in every sense of the word. On his back, legs spread wide apart, his cock hard and wet where it rested against his stomach, which wouldn't remain flat for much longer. His hole was equally as wet and inviting, already having left a slick mess onto the pile of blankets he was resting in.

Soap's laughter echoed against the walls as Ghost pounced on him, pushing him into the nest as he rubbed a stubbled cheek against any part of him he could reach, dousing Soap in his scent. Everyone would know about them soon enough, there was no point in trying to hide what Soap was to him anymore.

Soap's fingers were wet as they grabbed onto the back of his neck to pull him in for a kiss, making it obvious what he'd been up to during the few minutes Ghost had been away.

"Get in me already."

"Will do."

Soap's body offered no resistance when Ghost lined himself up and pushed inside with a single thrust. Soap's legs wrapped tightly around his waist, desperate fingers digging into his back to pull him in for another kiss. His scent was even sweeter now that it had mixed with his arousal, clouding Ghost's mind to the point he felt drunk on his pheromones.

Ghost knew he wasn't going to last long. Not when Soap responded so sweetly to his every touch, relaxed and responsive in a way he hadn't been in months. His omega. His to take care of, his to keep safe. His to fuck and bite and claim.

The faint bite marks surrounding Soap's scent gland taunted him as he looked at them. Because Ghost's mark on his neck was still tentative, temporary. Something that would fade with time, something that wasn't enough to mark Soap as his.

Soap must have noticed where he was looking, as he combed his fingers through the short strands of Ghost's hair, pulling him closer until his lips were resting against his scent gland.

"Do it," Soap demanded, his grip on Ghost's hair tightening, keeping him in place. "Make me your mate."

Ghost didn't have to be told twice, his hips stuttering as his teeth sunk into Soap's skin, deeper than he'd allowed them before. Soap gasped beneath him, tightening like a vice around Ghost's cock as the mark on him was made permanent. After today, everyone would know. Nobody would ever doubt who Soap belonged to again.

Soap pulled him up for another deep kiss, the hint of blood sweet on their tongues as they lapped into each other's mouths. Ghost never wanted this moment to end, getting lost on his omega's body, both their bliss doubled now that they were officially mated, their senses shared as if they were just one being.

"Just like that," Soap hummed, his voice like honey against the shell of Ghost's ear as Ghost fucked him harder. "C'mon, Simon. Put another baby in me."

Ghost fucked into him one last time, a deep shudder going through his entire body as he came inside Soap. Because there was no more risk in doing that now, was there? Soap was already pregnant, and would start showing it in no time.

Soap wasn't far behind, his back arching as Ghost gave his neglected cock a few pumps, slick shooting all over both their chests. Soap's way of putting his own mark on Ghost in return.

Ghost rested his head against Soap's chest, not wanting to pull out just yet. Soon he wouldn't be able to do this anymore, since Soap's body would be too round and sensitive to handle his alpha's full weight. Soap gently petted his hair, purring deep in his throat as they caught their breaths.

"So, someone's got a breeding kink, eh?"

Ghost groaned.

"Not a word, Sergeant."

~~~~~~

Ghost had gone over this very conversation hundreds of times in his head. But as he stood in Price's office, Soap by his side, Ghost had no idea what to say.

Ghost desperately wanted to hold Soap's hand, to reassure both of them—but mostly himself—that everything would be alright. But Soap had covered the fresh bite mark on his scent gland with several thick scent patches before making sure that his hoodie covered every bruise and bite that Ghost had left on his skin. So they would—unfortunately—have to tell Price that they were mated, rather than letting him figure it out on his own.

"You wanted to talk to me?" Price prompted, looking between the two of them when neither one had spoken for well over a minute.

Soap took a deep breath, steeling himself before speaking.

"I'm pregnant."

Price stared at Soap unblinkingly. Ghost didn't dare move a muscle.

"I see," Price cleared his throat, quickly gathering his composure after the sudden news. "And you're planning on keeping it?"

"I am," Soap confirmed, without missing a beat.

Price nodded slowly, still watching Soap intently. It was clear he wasn't thrilled with the news, losing one of his best men and all, but at least he didn't appear to be angry. At least not yet.

"Alright. I'll make sure everything is taken care of." Price hesitated for a moment. "I must ask—do you know who the father is? He'll need to be contacted, and…dealt with accordingly."

Ghost could feel his body tense up at the thinly veiled threat. A reluctance that Soap didn't seem to share.

"It's Simon," Soap answered simply.

Price's gaze immediately jumped over to Ghost, his eyes holding none of the warmth and acceptance they had when he'd been talking to Soap.

"Is that so?" he asked sharply. Ghost had to fight the urge not to snarl at him. He would have failed, had Soap not chosen that very moment to reach out and grab his hand, squeezing it tightly.

"We're mated," Soap explained, before the alpha posturing could get any worse.

Price visibly relaxed, his eyes softening a bit at the news.

"I see," he said again, equal parts defeated and accepting. He cleared his throat loudly. "Well, if that's what you both want."

Soap smiled as he looked up at Ghost. Ghost didn't think he'd be able to look away from him ever again.

"It is," they both confirmed at the same time.