In the days following their return from Ukraine, Ghost found himself the subject of Credenhill's rumor mill. Word spread pretty fast of his ballsy gambit, and parts of the story got exaggerated to their logical extremes as a result: how he slipped into class with the hostages before getting taken down, took out every terrorist in the room before Langley and the others could rappel in, somehow stalled them a half hour past deadline... The list went on.
One of the more amusing things, which he sadly missed out on, was MacTavish apparently losing his cool over the comms about how long he was stalling. That particular rumor warped into a joke that MacTavish may even just straight up have a thing for the Lieutenant. At least, Ghost hoped it was a joke. If it wasn't, then this got out of hand.
In precisely three days, Price caught wind of the rumors and had everyone gather up outside in the cold so he could lecture them on being a bunch of "chatty bastards" for approximately an hour. No further punishment. He didn't try to find who started the rumors, just dismissed everyone with the promise that "Next time, whoever starts rumors like this again will be stuck doing training with MacTavish." Nobody wanted to do even half of the fitness madman's regiment, so the rumors were deader than a door nail.
All this led up to now. Ghost gathered up his keys and wallet from the desk in his dorm. He and Langley had plotted a night on the town after that assembly, since neither of them would be on duty tomorrow. They'd hang out at one of the pubs in Hereford, discuss the mission, find a place to crash, and head back to the base the next morning with hopefully not too bad a hangover.
First part went over pretty well. Langley directed him to this little under spoken joint with a rustic appeal. The lights from inside cast a warm glow in the chilled December night. Each time the door swung open, classic rock wafted out along with the lively sounds of laughter and conversation. Ghost couldn't help but smile as he drank in the atmosphere on their way to the bar.
Langley cast a dimpled grin as he took a seat. "Is that a genuine smile there, mate?"
Ghost rolled his eyes. "Maybe." He turned his attention to the bartender. "Gin, please." He tapped his foot to the beat of Killer Queen.
"Pint of stout for me," Langley added. While they waited for their drinks, he nudged Ghost. "Sooo, how'd you keep those guys distracted so long? You were in there a whole hour."
Ghost shrugged. "I just was telling stories, tried to be engaging."
"You ought to write a book if you can grab their attention in a situation like that," Langley remarked.
He couldn't help but laugh. Him an author? Maybe in another life. At that time, they got their drinks, and Ghost downed about half the small glass.
"What kind of story were you telling them?"
"Oh, just some old war stories from my days in the SAS. I did a lot of embellishing though." That much was true. He painted himself to sound like an action hero, played up the fighting a lot... In truth, his survival was largely due to his own caution and quiet approach. He didn't once try to tackle a problem guns ablaze. When it was all said and done, he didn't earn his nickname because he killed his old self. Shepherd called him Ghost because he evaded capture on a manhunt and snuck into a military base largely undetected.
He wouldn't tell Langley any of that though. He didn't have to. The simple answer he provided was more than enough for his comrade, who bumped his shoulder. "Trying to impress the little girls? That blonde one really took a shining to you."
"It must have been a very impressive story then."
You've got to be fucking with me... Ghost prayed he didn't just hear that in the voice he heard it. Pinching himself and slamming back the rest of his glass didn't change anything though. When he turned around, he saw MacTavish approach them. Ghost forced a smile and gave a very dry laugh. "Captain... What are you doing here?"
"Same as you," he answered, taking a seat next to him. "I haven't kept you two waiting long, have I?"
Ghost stood up. "Ah ha ha, I've already had so much to drink, I should be going!" He fished around in his pocket for his wallet, only to find it alarmingly missing. That started a self pat down in his desperation to find it.
Langley gave Ghost a confused look, then leaned a little to look at MacTavish while his dorm mate was having a mini crisis between them. "No, we haven't been here long. I don't know what Ghost's going on about having a lot to drink, but we haven't."
"Is he a cheap date?" MacTavish wondered.
"I'm not!"
"Then no need to make a scene, Ghost. Sit back down. I can spot you a few drinks," MacTavish declared, pulling the lankier man back down onto the stool. "Oi, two whiskeys!"
Somewhere deep down, Ghost was internally screaming. He leaned over to Langley and whispered, "Did you invite him?"
"Yeah, mate. 'Course I did." Langley gave a knowing wink while he tipped back his beer glass.
That damn traitor. He was dimly aware of two shot glasses half full of amber liquid being set in front of them. "You could've given me a warning."
"I know you're busy plotting your escape and all, Ghost," the Captain chimed in, "but there's something you should probably know."
"What?" Ghost asked in a tone about as cold as the wind chill outside.
MacTavish pointed down at the counter. "You're wallet's right there."
It took every ounce of his willpower not to explode. With a deep breath, he took the wallet and pushed it into his coat pocket. "So it is..."
Langley listened to the two of them with an even smile as he continued to enjoy his beer. "Come on, Ghost, lighten up. You're acting like you don't like Captain MacTavish's company."
Ghost gave Langley a withering glare. If anyone knew Ghost's frustration about the guy, it was Langley. He sat through so many of Ghost's mini tirades in their dorm. Could get him at the very least an NJP if he told them half the shit he said. Hell, this could be it right here. All it took was Langley's hinting. He was done for.
Instead of questions though, MacTavish gave a hearty laugh. "I already know he loathes me, Langley! Let's not go on teasing him about it."
Ghost shook his head and picked up the shot glass, knocking back its contents. "I hate you all..."
"There's Cranky Ghost," MacTavish noted with a grin. "You're a lot less fun when you try and act nice."
"I didn't realize I was acting nice to be fun, Captain." Ghost signaled for another drink.
Langley listened with a smirk, steadily draining his glass. He wasn't much for conversation, something Ghost had initially liked about the man. Now he wished more than anything that he could step up and keep their very social Captain occupied so he wouldn't have to.
Of course, there was one way he could think of that could prove entertaining for himself. "Say, Captain? Just how good even is your tolerance?"
With furrowed brows, MacTavish pondered the question. "Decent. Why do you ask?"
"Because you've been sipping that little glass like hot tea," Ghost pointed out.
"I'm pacing myself. You on the other hand-" He pinched Ghost's cheek. "-are blushing like a bride."
The pinch drew a small shout from Ghost before he swatted his hand away. "I've had two drinks in about fifteen minutes. Get on my level."
"Is that a challenge?"
"Think you can drink me under the table?"
"Ghost, I know I can."
"You're on."
-()-()-()-
After approximately ten extra shots of whiskey each, the two were more than toasted. Langley watched somewhere between concern and uncertainty as they swayed in their stools, arms locked around each other, loudly singing along to the radio. He wasn't the only one staring at this point. The bartender seemed to have a hard time paying any semblance of attention to his other patrons, not that any of those blokes seemed to mind with the provided entertainment.
Sooner or later, they had to get kicked out of this place, right?
"I'm burnin' through the sky, yeah!" Ghost hung his head back as he sang along. "Two hundred degrees! That's why they call me Mr. Fahrenheit!"
"I'm traveling at the speed of liiight!" Out of nowhere, MacTavish gave Ghost a bit of a shove, knocking the other off balance and to the floor. "I wanna make a supersonic man outta you!"
Where Langley worried that his friend may have been hurt, Ghost only laughed as he dragged himself up to his feet. There was a lack of coordination to his movements as he slapped his hand on the counter and grabbed the Captain by the back of his shirt. It was hard for him to get the next few lines out between his fit of laughter, which of course led to the Captain laughing hysterically and their "show" coming to an end as neither could keep their composure enough to carry on.
While MacTavish had his head down on the counter and Ghost's on the Captain's shoulder, both laughing their asses off, Langley fished out his wallet and paid for the drinks, as well as made sure he tipped the bartender handsomely for the trouble. He was pretty glad now with his decision to cut himself off after that first drink and stick to water and crisps. There was no way these two were in any condition to drive. "Alright you two, coats on. Let's get you somewhere not public."
"B-but I drove here," MacTavish said between giggles. He started fishing around in his pocket, and pulled out a car key, which he just simply held up in the air and seemed to simply forget to put his hand back down.
"You're not getting behind the wheel. I'll deal with the car later." Langley took the key from him and stashed it in his coat. "Come on. Get up."
With a sigh, MacTavish got up. The word 'graceful' never came to Langley's mind to describe the Captain in the past, but seeing the heavy, dragging way he stood and shrugged on his coat certainly made him notice now. With him getting ready, Langley could turn his attention to his dorm mate.
"Alright, Ghost, get your coat." He looked over at his friend, who sat back down during all this, and hauled him up to his feet. "Coat. On."
"But it's cold outside," Ghost huffed.
"Yes. It is. We need to go outside to get in the car." Why'd he let them both drink themselves stupid?
Ghost pouted in a very teenage girl sort of way and begrudgingly got his coat on. "Why don't we just go into the car?"
"That's what we're going to do, Ghost." Langley sighed, then turned back to MacTavish. "Get back up, Captain."
This game of trying to get them both ready to leave carried on another six minutes. Between one of them sitting down when Langley turned his back, then suddenly Ghost having to piss and then MacTavish having to piss, and MacTavish forgetting that Langley took his keys, it was a miracle it didn't take longer. After what felt like an uphill battle, he had them both in the back seat of the car, buckled in (he hoped), and Ghost finally stopped complaining about the lack of leg room. Langley sank into the car seat and rubbed his hands over his face. He really needed to rethink this designated driver role he adopted.
After his small moment of peace, he started the car. The moment the radio kicked in, both Ghost and MacTavish were back to their off key singing. At least it kept them preoccupied...
Fortunately for Langley, his flatmate off base was away on a vacation to the U.S. for the holidays, so he could avoid any questions on why two very drunk men would be sleeping in Langley's room. After ushering them inside, getting them to take off their shoes at the door (easier said than done), and take off their coats, Langley corralled them into his room and left to walk back down to the bar so that the car MacTavish drove in could be parked closer. That was a fifteen minute walk filled with anxiety over the fact he left two heavily intoxicated men in his flat unsupervised. Once he got the car in front of the complex using his flatmate's currently empty space, he hung out in the living room nearby in case anything happened.
Of course, something did. Those two actually started talking while he was gone. At first it was light hearted, silly conversation. Langley disregarded it. At some point though, the conversation turned to Christmas coming up. MacTavish was going on about how he'd have to drive up North to meet with the old man for midnight mass when suddenly he cut himself off. "You alright, mate?"
"It's been... what...? A year now...?"
Langley sat up and looked at the door. This was new.
"A year?"
"Since my family all got killed," Ghost answered. "They'd been murdered... What kinda sick bastard shoots a kid?"
Suddenly Langley felt a tad sick. A month ago when he met Ghost, he learned that the subject of his family was something closed off for discussion. Langley never pried after the first rebuff, and over time lost interest in the subject. Apparently there was a lot more to things than he realized.
"Ghooost... it sounds stupid, but you got us now. It doesn't replace anybody or fix what's happened, but you're not alone."
This was met with a few sobs and then quiet hushing. Langley went to the door and peeked in. Ghost had his head buried in MacTavish's shoulder, his hands clutching the back of his shirt as he swore under his breath. The Captain rubbed small circles between the other man's shoulders, decidedly misty eyed himself. Just as quickly as he looked in, Langley shut the door and went to go throw some headphones on and crash on the couch.
-()-()-()-
Ghost groaned as he slowly came to at... maybe 04:00? He couldn't be sure. All he knew was that his head was pounding, and his stomach was very much upset. His body was sore, radiated with stinging pain along his back and chest, and his dick may as well have gone through a blender with how much it hurt. There was also a bit of a breeze that he was not at all in favor of.
Slowly, he cracked open his eyes and came to the realization that he was very much naked. Or mostly; his shirt was hiked up to his armpits and one sock still hung halfway off his foot, but the rest was alarmingly missing. Next to him, crammed on this little twin bed, was MacTavish, pretty much naked as well save for what was likely his underpants hanging off his ankle. To make matters worse, Ghost couldn't help but notice an unsettling mix of dry fluids and maybe blood on his groin, the other man's ass... A bit more dried something or other coated MacTavish's cock. Maybe spit. Maybe semen. He wasn't sure.
Being uncomfortable with the situation would be a gross understatement. Ghost climbed out of the very much unfamiliar bed (where the hell even were they?) and grabbed his pants before leaving the room to search for the toilet.
Langley was passed out on the couch with headphones blaring so loud that Ghost could hear the music from a few meters away. Maybe it was a good sign. Maybe not. He didn't dare wake Langley up though.
For the next fifteen minutes, he locked himself in the tiny room, head rested against the toilet seat, as he went between being too weak to move and dry heaving. The reality of the situation sunk in.
He fucked his Captain.
Correction: He fucked MacTavish.
With that, Ghost thought long and hard about how this even came to pass. He definitely recalled the bar, challenging MacTavish to a drinking contest, about eight rounds of that just fine. After that it went from hazy to absolutely nothing. He could only hope that MacTavish was in a similar state and therefore wouldn't be able to recall the details either.
Finally Ghost managed to climb to his feet and head to the bedroom again. Fortunately, the Captain hadn't woken up yet. He took this as a chance to dress himself properly. His shirt rubbed uncomfortably against a large array of scratches on his torso that he definitely didn't have yesterday and his dick felt like someone gave it an Indian sunburn, but he would just have to live with it.
When Ghost finally sat down on the floor by the bed, MacTavish started to wake up...
It's been a while, and I'm sorry about the wait. The plot starts to go places from here and there's a lot of romantic development. I wanted to make sure that I was satisfied with my writing before I go back to posting new chapters. I have an additional ten chapters written after this one, and all of them will be posted eventually.
This chapter was incredibly fun to write. I got a chance to share drinking stories with friends, have a few myself, and get inspiration for Soap and Ghost's antics. There's plenty more drinking scenes to be had, I assure you.
Thank you all for the support so far!
