A/N: The prospect of waking up in someone else's bed and not knowing what happened the previous morning never gets old, does it? I wanted to try a different sort of narrative, with a different take on on characters. Here's to hoping it didn't turn out too bad.
Contains SLASH or GAY CONTENT. If that isn't your cup of tea, then this isn't the story for you.
When Ghost came to, the first thing that came to attention was the lack of blankets wrapped around him.
Despite this, he felt very warm.
Body tensing as it laid on its side, his eyes remained closed as the hand nestling his head subtly crept beneath his pillow, where his trusty combat knife was stashed should anybody decide to surprise him in his sleep. At the same time, his mind focused on the sense of touch, trying to pinpoint the source of heat against his skin—and potential threat of an enemy looming over him.
As fingers glided between fluffy cotton and smooth mattress, a jab of dread stabbed his heart at the absence of metal that was supposed to be there. Bloody hell, he had to improvise if there really was a hazard behind him, though none of it would matter should a bullet go through his brain in the next second. At that moment he made sense of the foreign warmth—it was concentrated on the expanse of his back, and there was some pressed against the crook of his knees.
Which was strange.
Suddenly there was a soft rumble from a voice that didn't belong to him, muttering something intangible and followed by movement that dipped and rustled the single-bed. An arm from behind reached about his torso to press a palm against his chest.
Ghost tensed even more, if that was possible. Had expected that hand to twist his neck, but it rested there, where his heart was; an oval of warmth and callous. Thoughts scrambled, pulse racing as the likelihood of a nemesis and ambush—gone. A whole new worry, different set of thoughts. Someone was sleeping behind him. Who?
…why?
Luckily, he was on the outer part of the bed, back facing the wall, his front facing the rest of the room. Blue eyes wandered the space, noticed some things that didn't add up. Knick-knacks on the cabinet, an extra bunker opposite… and missing combat knife. This wasn't his bedroom.
Movement again, and it startled him. His mind raced to try and figure out who it was caught between him and the wall in the bed. Then again, didn't matter who the other was, but why were they even there together?
Hot breaths blew against the back of his neck and it took all his power not to shudder right then and there. He remained motionless, trying to organize his thoughts, if only they'd stop running around trying to figure out whether he liked the touch or was disgusted by it. Not that it mattered at the moment.
"You're awake," that other person murmured, voice so close to his ear Ghost nearly jumped out of his own skin.
Bloody hell, how did he know that? Ghost stayed perfectly still, didn't move a muscle, didn't say a goddamn thing.
"Your heart rate's picking up," whispered, again, as though he could read his mind. Ghost mentally gulped, well shit, turned out that hand between his pecs was there with intent after all. "Limbs are tense, too. Take the tension down a notch, I ain't here to kill you."
That voice hit his ears so clearly, the common rasp of having just woken from sleep laced in a high-quality tone.
The arm pulled back, and no longer trapped in an embrace, Ghost sat up and rubbed his eyes, sure he looked calm and rather sleepy right now, but that was just a cover up as to how much of a mess his mind was. He just so happened to notice some articles of clothing scattered on the floor, and amid the chaos he spotted his balaclava, and he paled at the thought that hey, is he naked?
His traveling glances stopped at a face he knew rather well, with the gleaming eyes and perfect nose and lips upturned into a smile. Roach's look was inquisitive.
"Like what you see?" the sergeant asked, prompting the other's eyes to trek further down. No blankets, of course, revealing a magnificent body—broad lean chest, strong thighs, prominent muscles that undoubtedly formed under rigorous training. Ghost's rigorous training. The lieutenant wasn't sure what to make of that.
But he liked the view.
Oh yes.
Ghost wasn't sure what happened to his usual self-control, but he must have pursed his lips or something of the sort that displayed some kind of embarrassed apprehension, because Roach beamed, "Well, I know I do."
It took some time before Ghost realized what Roach was talking about. Then it hit him. Roach liked what he saw. The thought shouldn't have hit him like a bombshell, but it did.
"Your eyes are real nice," he commented further as they locked gazes. "I always noticed they were blue though, even under those glasses you always wear. Stared long and often enough to notice the colour."
Roach lifted himself up, and they both heard the soft groan from his mouth as the bones of his back cracked and snapped into place. Ghost tried to ignore that tinge of… something, some kind of heat, somewhere below his stomach. It was not arousal. Was it? Dammit, body, get yourself together.
"But it's always much better to see them without the shades," Roach added as conclusion, accompanied with a smirk. "Or should I say everything about you looks better without anything on them…?"
Ghost could feel something prickling at his cheeks, and whatever it was, he did not appreciate the sensation at all, not when Roach noticed it and chuckled. That sound of mirth, so boyish and fucking attractive. Riley, you bloody fuck, control your thoughts!
"Are you going to say something or just stare at me like that all day?" Roach teased, grin gracing his features. "Not that I'm complaining."
Unsure what to say, Ghost stood up and began picking out which clothes belonged to him. They were both still in boxers, so that was good. Was it? He cursed his thoughts, dragging his trousers up his legs.
He turned as he pulled up the zipper, noticing where Roach's gaze went, and oh, had he been staring while he was putting on his pants? Pretty smug look on that face, too. Ghost felt his cheeks burn as he pulled a shirt over his head, pretending that he didn't just learn Roach was admiring his ass.
"Are you just gonna leave?" Roach asked as Ghost looked around for his sunglasses. "Don't wanna know how you ended up here?"
Ghost pulled the balaclava on as he found his shades near the mirror. He looked at Roach through the reflection—and goddamn, what a body.
Fuck, could Roach just put some clothes on?!
"I gotta go see what the members are doin'," Ghost said, inwardly cringed at the rustiness of his own voice. "Maybe later."
"Later tonight?" Roach waggled his eyebrows.
Hell, that lazy smile seemed to get to him every time. At least the balaclava hid the pinkish tint on his cheeks, if the eyes didn't give him away. "Uhm. I have to go."
"I don't hear no for an answer," the other sang.
Ghost felt like he was sweating nervously as he neared the door.
"Okay, see you at your place," Roach winked suggestively—and that's all it took, now Ghost's face was on fire. The sergeant chuckled to himself, but the lieutenant caught that sweet sound, part of his mind immediately took and stored it away in memory as he finally left the room.
Speed-walking down the hallway, Ghost decided that having just woken from sleep and getting hit on by a nearly naked Roach was not a good combination. Never before has he felt embarrassed like a teen around his crush, goddamn it, but all it took was those flirtatious glances and well-placed smiles to reduce him into that shy mess.
He ran into Captain MacTavish soon after and went off to train what members were under his watch for the day. Didn't include Roach, and he wasn't sure whether that was a relief or a curse. Not that he didn't want to see the sergeant, he just couldn't bear the backflips his heart did should Roach decide to wink at him. Again.
As his fellow members ran the training course, Ghost remained by the side, mask concealing his face, a look of deep thought. Wasn't sure whether he was glad or frustrated that he resisted the urge to touch Roach's face, or arm, or skin, back when they were both on that bed. Then he remembered.
Tonight. His quarters. Roach.
He felt a shiver run down his spine, and Ghost caught himself. It wasn't like him to be so distracted and he cursed, mentally chiding to focus on doing his job. He stared at the ground for a solid few minutes.
Still, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward to nightfall.
A/N: Thank you for reading. Don't forget to leave a comment :)