A/N: I know, this is a very quick update, a little treat for everyone ;w; Thanks for all the reviews, my insecurity of last chapter washed away thanks to all of you. Nice to know that silly cat sh*t at the end was humorous to you all. Anyway, I wrote this up kinda quick since I was excited for this part of the story and...uh, the words just flowed from my fingers...?
Anyway, this also hovers close to the M-rating...you have been warned! xD Enjoy!
For some reason, last night's sleep felt short and as though it had only lasted a couple hours, but it didn't mean you weren't refreshed the following morning. It was a quarter to seven when you opened your eyes, and after walking through an empty base and bathing in the empty shower room, you dress into casual clothing by the time the clock strikes half past eight.
The cup of hardly-eaten ice cream sits next to your phone on the end table. The sweet, sticky smell fills your nostrils as you settle on the bed, mattress dipping down as you did so. You were so sleepy last night you must have forgotten to devour the dessert.
After a few seconds of looking around and thinking of nothing, a thought strikes you like a bolt of lightning. Of course, today is the day you decided the previous night to do some snooping on some of the covert missions of the task force. And, with everybody out training, it's the perfect time to do so.
You remain on the bed for a few minutes to map out a few destinations. You know that the superiors here are Soap, Ghost, and Archer. The sniper's chamber is closest to yours—you'll start your snooping there. Then, at a different hallway only two minutes away, is the office which Soap and Ghost share, and the files you seek are most probably there.
A bit further down are Ghost's and Soap's bedrooms (being the top two superiors, they have their own private, individual chambers, set at a different hallway so it's away from the rowdiness of other members; priviledges for the high ranks, maybe?). If the files in question aren't in the office, you'll check Ghost's room, and then Soap's.
With a well thought-out plan in mind, you exit your room and begin walking towards the members' bunkers to head for Archer's room. It's so quiet, you can hear yourself breathe, but it's the exact same silence that fills you with confidence that you won't get caught sneaking around. Before long, you reach the hallway with multiple doors, the hallway which was overcrowded the night before.
Luckily, you know where Archer sleeps, only because you saw his head poking out from one of the doors during the commotion last night. You approach the wooden door identical to the others and swing it inwards, peeking in, only to find that it empty. Encouraged, you step in and close the door behind you without a sound.
It's kind of unfair how this door doesn't creak, but yours does. Looking carefully at the hinges, you find that they've been oiled recently. A small smirk falls upon your lips; you should have expected it. It must drive Archer crazy if his door constantly groans whenever he enters or exits his room.
Turning away from the door, you take in the condition of the chamber. Unlike Soap and Ghost, Archer shares his room with Toad, and it's no surprise there, though you wonder how Archer can handle Toad's constant foolishness.
To the left is the double-decker bed, opposite it is what appears to be two cabinets pushed together with multiple drawers, probably for their clothes. There are magazines and books neatly stacked on the cabinets, and some toiletries as well, separated into two groups. You giggle as you examine the brand…you always noted how Toad has a unique scent, in a nice way, and to discover his body spray brand is Playboy makes you want to laugh for some reason.
There are some clothes strewn about the floor, naturally. You can make out a couple of shirts and a belt, looking as though they've been thrown across the room without any care whatsover from their owner.
Returning your gaze to the bed, you evaluate which one belongs to whom. The upper one is neat, with covers folded and pillow fluffed, and the whole bed looking undisturbed to begin with. It must be Archer's. Now, as for the bottom one…
Ouch, how does Toad's bed end up like this? Half of the rumpled up, unevenly-coloured covers are on the floor, one pillow is at the foot of the bed whereas the other one is flipped across the room, near the windows, and the bed sheets are dark at some spots, also rumpled up as though somebody gripped on them.
Putting your hands on your hips, you wag your head with a small smile and chuckle, before scrutinizing the area to find a place where any hint of their missions might be hidden. There is no desk, so you move on to their drawers. You check underneath the clothing in one of the cabinets, the one you suspect belongs to Archer, but, unfortunately, find nothing.
A quick search of the other one reveals two porn magazines…cheeky Toad.
Sighing, slightly disappointed, you look at the bed. Oh well, you should check underneath those messy covers, though you doubt you'd find anything.
Shuffling to the bed and bending down, your hands support your weight as you lean into the bed and start groping around for anything. A journal, a picture, a file; long shot, yes, but probable. As you feel around, some things immediately come to mind—how warm the bed feels, and how it's quite damp at some of the darker spots.
Despite having confirmed there's nothing on the bed that has what you're looking for, there is something peculiar about Toad's bed's condition. You remain bended forward, hands on the rumpled bed sheets, eyes taking in all the details. Something…just, something. You can't quite put your finger on it, not yet.
The warmth should be natural, since Toad's bed is the lower bunker bed and his body heat from sleeping on it last night is more…preserved. But, the warmth spreads a bit…either Toad has abnormally broad shoulders that stretch up almost all of the mattress, or somebody else occupied his bed with him.
And then there's these damp spots. Biting your bottom lip, you wonder why they feel so…sticky. What the hell are they? The rumples in the bed sheets are about the size of your fist. The probable cause is that somebody gripped on it in a tight grasp.
Then, the more you mull over this, the more your nose picks up…a peculiar smell. It's not pleasant, but not so bad, but it just smells weird. Very weird, and very suggestive. You rack your brain, trying to identify this scent…then it hits you.
It smells like sex.
"Holy shit!" you cry out, immediately jolting upright, only to bump your head against the wooden rim of the upper bed. With a hiss of pain, you stumble back, returning to the cabinets, all the while mumbling obscenities as your thoughts run about in your head.
A blush prickles at your cheeks, shading it a deep red, as you stare at the bed with a flustered, disturbed and innocent look. No wonder Archer's bed looks undisturbed—because it was never slept on last night to begin with…he and Toad shared the younger man's bed last night, and they did something else, too. The cause of those damp spots.
Your face feels so heated up, it's like smoke is coming out of your ears. It's disgusting that you found out about their activity this way, touching those damp spots which is most probably their—urgh, why didn't they fucking clean it up? It's like murdering someone and leaving the scene without wiping out evidence.
Biting the insides of your cheeks, you lean against the cabinets for a while longer, wondering whether you can ever look at Archer and Toad the same way ever again. Man…yeah, their cute, flirty, kissy moments should lead up to intimate sessions at some point but…for you to find out, and to know it all happened just last night?
Your eyes flick to the shirts and belt on the floor. With your new knowledge, those items just add to the long list of evidence.
Just as your heart rate calms down, you wonder who was the one on top. Archer's an obvious answer, but, then again, Toad does seem like a dominating—
'What the fuck is wrong with me?' your hands fly to your face, the heat of a flush to the cheeks slightly felt against your palms.
And then you notice an empty bottle of lube on the floor. 'Evidence! There's fucking evidence everywhere!'
You may not have found what you're looking for, but you definitely found out about something you didn't want to know about. With a small curse, you avert your eyes from the crime scene and leave the room before any more embarrassing thoughts and inappropriate pictures can sneak into your mind.
Closing the door behind you, you struggle to maintain a poker face and push out all memories of what you saw out of your head as you make your way to your next destination. The office of Soap and Ghost, where the files should be.
Before long, you reach the said room and stand in front of it for a few moments to pick up any sounds. Though all the members are assuredly outside, warming up or brushing on their skills, there's no guarantee that Soap wouldn't be slacking off again, perhaps in his office this time. After a minute of complete silence, you turn the knob noiselessly and peek in.
After entering, you turn around. There are two desks, one on the right and the other one facing the door, and a large shelf to the left of what looks like general fiction and non-fiction novels stacked on the tiers instead of sorted-out files.
The desk to the right is clear, other than a few empty sheets of papers stacked upon one another and held down by a big stapler, and a closed laptop. The other one that faces the exit should be Soap's—it has two stacks of papers, at least, and the stationery is scattered about. The computer screen is dark but a sole light flashes, indicating it's only on sleep mode. There's an empty coffee cup at the end of the desk, too.
Though a bit brightened by seeing the stacks, you become disappointed to find out they're all just reports waiting to be filled, all details and boxes have yet to be written out or ticked, which just leaves out all possibilities of getting an answer. The computer, when stirred, is, of course, locked and inaccessible without a password. The drawers must have the covert files, but, much to your dismay, they're all locked, as well.
Same thing goes for Ghost's desk, both his drawers and his laptop. With a curse, you find out the keys to their drawers are also missing. The office is useless! You'll have to find the keys to get some more access. And there are only two places those keys could be: either in their pockets, or in their bedrooms.
Oh, please be in their bedrooms.
As you swing the door inwards to get out, you suddenly hear a soft click go off somewhere down the hallway, as though another person just closed a door. You freeze at the sound, and your heart beats rapidly as you hesitantly look down the hallway. A sigh of relief that you didn't know you held in passes your lips when there's nobody there. Maybe just a hallucination.
Ghost's room is just as you expect it. Neat, clean and smells like him. A search through his tall, wide wardrobe (the one place he can actually keep anything in such an organized room) only reveals that Ghost has a strict taste in clothing and colour. A frown forms on your face as your search, once again, leads to no avail.
No key, no nothing.
A grunt escapes your mouth, your curiosity flaring up with irritation and impatience, as you approach Soap's bedroom. If this place has nothing, then all that's left is the meeting room, which should have some sort of board with Makarov's picture in the middle of it. Only problem? Soap didn't tell you where the meeting room is.
The rage of riled thoughts get briefly interrupted when you hear some kind of movement from inside the captain's chambers. However, edgy and annoyed, you push the door open, albeit a little slowly as it was (for some reason) heavier and creaked so much louder than your door. It took ten seconds for you to finally push it open and close it again.
Somewhere amid the creaking, you hear some frantic movement, maybe a flash of somebody in the room, and a fast tap, but when you turn around, there's nobody inside. Gulping, a sense of fear pokes the back of your mind, but you quickly dismiss the idea of something haunting the temporarily empty base.
It looks like a normal bedroom, of course, but doesn't have a desk like you'd expect. A single bed pushed to the side, a cabinet that probably houses toiletries and boxers, and a tall, wide wardrobe next to it that a lot of women would want, next to a walk-in closet, of course.
Again, you approach the wardrobe (since it's the closest thing to you, and the first place anyone would use to hide anything), admiring the dark wood as you draw near. You stand in front one of the closet's "door's", staring at it for a few seconds, before curling your fingers around the handle to slide it open.
You must have only pulled only one inch, when loud footsteps echo from outside, and the bedroom door bursts open.
Paralyzed with shock, you manage to pick out that Roach and Soap just entered the room, lips locked in a greedy, sloppy make-out session, somehow managing to waltz inside in an awkward fashion without pulling away from each other. Without looking, Soap, who was pushing Roach inside in their weird walking-kissing thing, pinned the sergeant against the door as it closed, leaning deeper into the younger man, deepening their kiss.
You really, in all honesty, couldn't move, and would have been caught by the two soldiers, if it weren't for the closet door magically opening by itself, and a strong hand appears from the dark and grips your arm before pulling you inside.
As the darkness of the closet and warmth of clothes surround you, the door closes, blocking you off safely from Soap and Roach. However, as your mind picks up what little information you can comprehend amid the confusing situation, your pulse begins to race.
Holy shit. Who the hell is inside the closet with you? How long was this person in here? What would have happened had you opened the door and saw him inside? Your panic increases when a gloved hand cups over your mouth, and another arm snakes across your stomach to grip on your hip, forcing your back to lean against this unknown stranger as he prevents you from screaming or moving. Whoever he is, he's tall, strong and well-built.
After some squirming leads nowhere, you hyperventilate.
"Sssh, Private, relax. It's just me."
…Ghost?
"I'm going to let go of you now, but be quiet, or you'll give away our position."
Now with all fear and anxiety gone, you feel a bit embarrassed by how Ghost's lips sound so close to your ear. His voice is so high quaility and British-lilted, it sends your heart sky-rocketing.
True enough, the lieutenant removes his hand from your mouth and releases his grip around your abdomen, and you whirl around so you can face him. In the cramped up psace of the closet, where clothes hung from the iron bar basically take up all the space and absorb all the sound, Ghost is so unbearably close.
A few inches are what make the space between you two, and if you stumbled a bit to the front you'd fall straight into Ghost. He's staring at you, his glacier blue eyes holding its normal glint of calm and control, the rest of his face hidden by the skull balaclava. Steadying your breathing and heart rate, you focus on your thoughts, to sort everything out.
A soft whimper comes from outside, followed by a low, deep growl, and you hate how there's no stopping the embarrassment from showing on your face. The situation is so, so delicate. Here you are, in Soap's closet, so close to Ghost you can hear him breathe, whereas the captain and Roach are making out just outside, probably about to get rid of their clothes for a morning 'session'…
And you're right here with the lieutenant, listening in on everything.
Well, shit.
"Jo-ohn…" Roach whines, but the rest of his complaints stop short when a cry of pain mixed with pleasure finds its way out of his mouth.
The closet doors have small slits in them to serve as decoration, but right now, it served as little peeking holes. The light seeping in through those holes shone against Ghost's eyes as he looks out, which makes you wonder why he's doing it. You bite your bottom lip as his eyes narrow, the stolidness in his eyes merging into jealousy.
"Hmph," Ghost snorts, looking away. You can only guess what he's seen, especially since those slowly-growing-louder-with-each-second moans are already giving you a graphic description, and you haven't even taken a peek yet.
When his eyes meet yours, he asks, in a soft voice. "What were you doing in MacTavish's room?"
"I—uh, I…" you stammer, mind scrambling for an answer. But, you stop and snap, "Wait a minute, what were you doing in MacTavish's closet?"
Ghost sighs inaudibly and massages his temples. "Alright, I admit, we both have explaning to do."
"No shit," you murmur underneath your breath, slightly agitated as you can hear the rustle of clothes, flaps of fabric and denim, the familiar buzz of a zipper, all mingled with soft moans and curses. "Uh, you first."
"No use hiding or beating around the bloody bush," Ghost mutters. He cuts off eye contact as he continues with a hint of reluctance. "I was looking for MacTavish."
"Why?" you arch a brow.
"Multiple reasons," is the simple and terse answer. Though you can tell he speaks of the truth, there's a kind of hidden emotion with how he said his words that sets off a spark of curiosity. "One of 'em is that I suspected Bug would be in here since he isn't training. I was surprised when it was you at the door, so I hid here instinctively."
However, you don't want to bother him much about it. You remain silent for a while, watching him, unsure of what to feel right now. Should you be sympathetic for Ghost to have to listen? Or just plain embarrassed Ghost is there in the first place?
"What about you?" Ghost suddenly inquires.
"I was looking for the captain," you reply. Hopefully he'll buy it.
"I'm not an idiot, Private." Okay, so he didn't buy it.
"Fine. I was looking for files concerning your missions," you confess, staring at him straight in the eyes. You can't make out his reaction, damn balaclava. "I know they're supposed to be top-secret of something, but curiosity got the better of me. I went by the office, and came by here to look for the key to the captain's desk drawers."
"Oh."
Ghost doesn't seem to mind much, and he squints a bit as another discomforting groan reaches your ears. He's clearer as uncomfortable as you. It must be harder for him than it is for you, though.
"Alright, how are we going to get out of here?" you finally demand, releasing a tired sigh.
Ghost doesn't say anything for the next few minutes, eyes narrowed in concentration as he brainstorms for a perfect plan to slip out unnoticed. Finally, he looks at you and says blankly:
"I have no idea."
You face falls. Then, Ghost muses, "The only thing I can think of is that I walk out and distract them while you make your escape…"
"Oh no, no, no, no," you wag a finger, quickly dismissing the idea, restraining yourself from facepalming. "That's a horrible idea, I just know that if you walk out it'll lead to a threesome or something..."
Ghost's eyes crinkle at the sides, and you suspect a blush and perverted smile spread out on his face underneath that balaclava due to your comment.
"So…since you don't have a plan, what're we going to do?" you bite the insides of your cheeks, looking at the lieutenant hopefully. "Just sit hear and listen to them…do that?"
Ghost peeks out again. "I'm afraid so, and it might take a while. So far they've only gotten their shirts off, and MacTavish's taking his time with Bug's pants."
"Thank you for the update," you spit out sarcastically, face heating up again.
Ghost chuckles and looks back at you. "I do think this one won't be long. I'm missing, the captain's missing—at least one of the members will start looking for us. It shouldn't be long until someone raps on that door."
"Well, they better hurry," you mumble, frowning.
Thanks to the sounds, you can imagine what's going on. Just as you think of biting your hand to prevent little squeals from listening to their 'session', something magical happens.
The knocks on the door are like music to your ears.
"Captain?" It's Archer.
You can hear both Roach and Soap panic, fumble and trip. Ghost watches, his eyes crinkled at the sides as a sign of smug satisfaction. The grin of his balaclava's skull pattern actually matches his eyes and mood at the moment.
"Y-Yeah?" Soap replies, hastily putting on his shirt from the sounds of it.
"I can't find Ghost anywhere, and the others are looking for you."
"Alright, I'll be right out!" Soap promises, before cursing underneath his breath. "Simon Riley, you bloody numpty…"
Ghost snickers, clearly enjoying himself. A few moments later, you can hear the Scotsman say something to Roach, and before the long he exits the room, leaving the sergeant in there alone. Roach doesn't move, as you can't make out any hint of movement going on. You and Ghost remain silent for a few minutes.
Suddenly, Ghost opens the closet door.
Roach is sitting on the bed, hair rustled, face flushed and lips swollen, shirtless and his jeans unzipped but still hung loosely on his hips. He jumps, startled by the closet door sliding open by itself, and blushes deeper when Ghost reveals you and himself to the sergeant. His jaw drops, his eyes go wide—he's clearly at a loss of what to say.
"Si—Simon?" he stammers, gulping.
"You cheeky little cockroach," Ghost says softly, almost in a reprimanding tone, as he steps out of the closet. You follow him out and look at the entrance of the room, noting how the voices of both Archer and Soap are gone.
"Private?" Roach stutters, pure confusion on his adorably flustered face. "Oh man, what are you—did you hear all that?"
"Sure did," Ghost smirks, pulling off his balaclava and approaching the younger man, who stands up and stares at both of you cluelessly as the lieutenant draws near him.
You stare at Ghost's back oddly, wondering with a bit of fear why he's approaching Roach. Is he going to lash out on the sergeant or what?
Let's just say you're utterly surprised when Ghost suddenly pulls Roach close and kisses him on the lips, a bit similar to what he did the previous night.
Roach pulls away immediately, face horror-stricken. "Simon! Private's right over there!"
Both pairs of eyes falls on you, in which you respond by awkwardly standing there and looking away. Ghost grunts, "She already knows, and she doesn't care."
Your jaw drops in disbelief at how laidback Ghost is of your presence, and so is Roach, who stares at his lover with his mouth agape, in which the lieutenant seizes the opportunity to stick his tongue in the other's mouth.
The sudden aggressiveness in Ghost's kiss causes an involuntary moan from the younger man, who melts into the others arms immediately. His moan also flicks a switch in your body. Your eyelids flutter and you raise your arms, a scandalized look of "I'm so done" on your face as you turn on your heel to leave the room.
"I am so out of here!"
A/N: I'm lazy to check for errors...uh, yeah, so excuse the typos you might have seen in there. I like this chapter, it's been on my mind since I started the story xD How do you like it? I'm just guessing we would've all walked out if Ghost and Roach were getting smexy in front of us, lol.
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