Author's Note: This is really silly, but once the idea got into my head it just wouldn't go away.
"C'mon, you promised," said Roach, pretending to pout. He could never quite pull off the innocent look. That shadow of that smirk in his eyes always gave him away. "Just once. Afraid you might like it?"
Well, it was quiet enough and highly unlikely that anyone would walk in on them. Ozone was doped up on painkillers and everyone else was asleep. At least, he hoped so. He did not need to hear the team laughing at him again.
"Just once." Ghost lifted one hand to his neck and started to peel up the balaclava, just far enough to bare his lips.
He was doing it more to shut Roach up than anything else, he told himself. And maybe he was a little curious, too, but that was all. Seemed like an odd way to settle the question but Roach wouldn't have it any other way, and he was persistent when he wanted something.
Roach smirked, for real this time. "Take it off for me, baby. All the way."
"That's all you get. Too bloody cold in here to take it off," said Ghost. Which was a lie, although it was a bit chillier than he liked; underneath the fabric he was blushing like a damned schoolgirl. God, you'd think this was going to be his first time. "Now are we gonna do this or aren't we?"
In answer, Roach leaned in and kissed him, their closed lips touching gently.
Ghost closed his eyes and tried to pretended the sergeant was a girl, some underfed supermodel, but no girl on Earth had Roach's prickly stubble. The imagination could only fill in so many gaps.
He was just starting to get used to the situation he'd put himself in when Roach pressed against him harder, parting his own lips just enough to let his tongue out to lap against Ghost's lips. Like it was begging for entrance. So Ghost let him, and learned that Roach's mouth tasted like cheap cigarettes. Ghost definitely couldn't try to pretend he was kissing a girl now. Roach's little mmms of pleasure spoiled the illusion; bastard was enjoying this more than he'd let on.
And maybe it wasn't so bad after all.
Ghost could feel Roach's icy fingers trying to dig underneath the balaclava, trying to pull it all the way off. He started to growl something, but no, that was just what the bug wanted. So instead he tried to slap Roach's hand away, and when that didn't work he grabbed the bug's wrist and tugged it down.
But Roach wasn't done yet; the bastard moved in closer, planting himself in Ghost's lap, straddling his waist. Shoved him, really, with enough force to bang Ghost's head and shoulders into the wall behind him. Ghost managed to pin Roach's free hand against the wall, at least; God only knew what else the bug was planning. Then Roach started to move his hips, grinding against Ghost's crotch in a slow yet steady rhythm, and God damn it was starting to feel entirely too good-
Shit.
He had to do it; Panting, Ghost pulled away from Roach's merciless efforts.
Roach, still pressed up against Ghost's chest, chuckled in his ear. Then he pressed his lips to Ghost's cheek, kissing him through the thin shield of the balaclava. "I win," he murmured. "And you get to tell Captain MacTavish why Ozone got shot."
Shit shit shit.
Really, he'd had a blind choice and he'd just made the wrong one. Roach had eyes on a target at Ozone's 3 o'clock, but Ghost saw movement at 9 and assumed Roach would take out the other one.
Hadn't quite worked out that way. Turned out the other "tango" was a bloody pigeon. Even Ozone'd laughed at that one, while they were patching him up.
"It was your fault too," said Ghost, pulling his balaclava back down. "Why weren't you covering him?"
"Thought you were going to get him. I didn't know you were too busy saving us all from the pigeon menace."
"He could've had a gun." Ghost snorted. "And you're still a sadist."
"Maybe. But I'm also the undisputed champion of Gay Chicken and you can't say you weren't warned."
Roach pried himself away and walked off, whistling something off-key to himself.
Ghost just sat there, sighed, and wondered how he was going to tell the captain.
Also how he was going to deal with the stubborn, insistent little bastard of a hardon that Roach had just given him.