Disclaimer: I do not own Call of Duty, it belongs to Infinity Ward.
A/N: Sorry for the delay once again, I just now finished writing the chapter, pulled three all-nighters for this one. This chapter might be lacking something because I had no concentration at all. I got sick over the week, the trip was so exhausting. Also I will move the updates to every Saturdays from now on, because its hard for me to find any time during Fridays to re-read the whole thing for errors, correcting them and then posting it.
Chapter Four
The night was dark and silent, and so was the road up ahead. The headlights were the only source that lightened up their passage. Bright lights flashed into the car's window from time to time as they passed by houses and streetlights. The car's inside temperature was warm, the heater turned on as it was still clearly winter. The two figures were sitting quietly inside the car with no exchange in words, there was only soft music playing in the background to entertain themselves with at least something besides the faint noises of the engine running. The one was concentrating on driving, stirring the wheel to arrive safe and sound at their destination, while the other one was watching the scenery pass by quickly, mind wandering off to somewhere else within him.
The drive was a bit long, whizzing through forests, fields and tunnels. MacTavish has never been to this area before, everything passing by felt so new to him but at the same time it made him feel a little calm, seeing something nice and refreshing once in a while. And not before long he feel asleep to Ghost's soft, soothing humming of a familiar song from long ago.
"MacTavish, wake up. We're here." A voice called out and shook him awake. His eyes opened but quickly squinted close, hands covering the eyes protecting them from the brightness surrounding him. He tried again, this time opening his eyes slowly to get used to the lights. In front of him was a big modern luxurious house with big glass windows and doors. On top of the building there was a light sign which read 'Inner Circle'. And at the center of the building there was a big logo of an ouroboros on top of an upside down triangle which was outlined with white on the edges and in the center of these was a black crown. The place was packed with people, new ones constantly arriving and leaving.
MacTavish looked around through the car's windows, rubbing his eyes out of sleep. "You sure this is a bar?" He asked, somewhat suspicious. "Looks more like a secret hideout for dealers based by the chosen location."
Ghost laughed. "They chose to build it in the woods to have a feeling of isolation from the rest of the world, which I think was a pretty good idea. And yes, this place is a bar, at least half of it is. The other side is a disco. The Inner Circle is actually pretty famous, known by all men and women in the cities surrounding it. I'm surprised you haven't been here, judging by your expression."
The other frowned. "Its because of certain circumstances that I don't go out as often as I did back in the days." He bit his lip, cringing and cussing inwardly as he realized what he just said, way to ruin the mood.
The Brit placed his hand on top of MacTavish's head and ruffled his Mohawk. "You can forget about that thing for today. I'm here with you, I'll protect you if it comes to it." He said reassuringly.
The Scot looked him in the eyes and smiled to his words, it made him feel safe, knowing there's someone he could rely on. He removed Ghost's hand from his head and took it in his hand. A cheeky smile formed on his face as he quickly ruffled the other's hair for revenge while he had the chance.
"Hey!" Ghost tried to complain, but ended up laughing together with MacTavish. "Shall we?" He asked which the other replied with a nod.
They headed towards the building, hands in the pockets and coats closed. The cold winter breeze blew against their bare faces making them shiver. Upon passing through the security and entering the warm place, there was a big lounge with lots of people standing in a queue for the counter and lockers . At both corners there were stairs, each leading to the separate sides, the east wing for the disco and west wing for the bar. After waiting for a couple of minutes they each received an irremovable armband from the worker at the counter as the entry ticket to the bar. They went up the stairs, entering a dimly lit large room.
"This way." Ghost said, grabbing MacTavish's arm and navigated through the pool of crowds. Both taking a seat directly in front of the counter.
"Hello." A bartender with a scarecrow mask greeted them. "Scarecrow is the name, I'm your bartender for tonight. What can I get for the gentlemen?"
Ghost tapped his finger on the wooden counter, thinking. "I'll have a beer."
The masked man then turned to the Scot. "I'll have a whiskey please."
"Alright then, a whiskey and a beer." The bartender repeated and filled their glasses with the drinks they ordered, then placing them in front of them. "Please enjoy your evening."
"Whats up with all these mask wearing employees?" MacTavish asked looking around as the masked man left to serve another costumer, feeling a bit uncomfortable of not being able to see their faces.
"Originally this was supposed to be a masquerade themed bar with the slogan: 'What happens in the Inner Circle stays in the Inner Circle.' Keeping all the individuals identity a secret, but that was scratched out immediately after furthermore planning. But because the masquerade idea was well liked by everyone it was kept as a rule for employees to wear masks during work. And because of this, this place became quite popular really quick."
"I see." MacTavish looked at his glass, taking it in the hand then putting it down, he played around with it and sighed. He looked at the other who was already drinking. "You sure you'll just have a beer? I mean people don't usually go to a bar just to order that."
Ghost laughed. "I have to limit myself because I'm still driving us home, you know." He said in defence. "And I'm here to keep you company, of course. I think you need a drink more than I do, so don't hold back, I'm here to take care of you if things go wrong."
The Scot smiled. "Thanks, I guess." He proceeded to drown himself in alcohol for the next few minutes, ordering more and more glasses. Face reddening and lips becoming loose. He started talking to Ghost about nonsense. Things like 'Does a fish get thirsty?', or 'What do chickens think we taste like?'. He laughed about corny jokes he remembers from high school and complained about things, like how much he hates dogs.
"Simon!" A man in suit interrupts them, while patting the back of Ghost in a friendly manner. "Its nice to see you again."
The Brit turned around, surprised by the man's presence. "Vlad? I thought you were in abroad doing business?"
The man chuckled. "It went better than anticipated. We've got the deal, they signed the papers earlier than expected because of my charm. So, who is this you're with? Never seen him before, a new friend perhaps?"
"Oh, I want you to meet John MacTavish. Hes a friend I met at the call center I'm working at."
Makarov clapped his hands. "Ah, MacTavish! Yes, I see." He stared at the Scot, analyzing him from head to toe before giving him a grin and a nod. It sent shivers down to MacTavish's spine, even in his drunk state there was something telling him to not get too close to the man. "So hes the one you've been telling me about."
"Exactly Vlad, he's the one. MacTavish, this is Vladimir Makarov hes been a friend of mine since high school and hes also the owner of this place."
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Makarov." MacTavish held his hand out, staring straight in the man's odd eye colors. The right eye having a green color while the left one is blue in color. He reminded him of the white stray cat he once came across with and took care of during a few days before it ran away again.
"Please, Vladimir is good enough." Makarov shook his hand firmly with a smile, like a true businessman would. "You two order anything you want, its on me." He talked to the bartender informing him about his special guests, then he looked at his watch as things were all cleared. "Well, I'll be going then I still have an important business to attend to. Please, enjoy yourselves." The Russian man left, disappearing in the crowd.
"Sorry about that, he seems like a shady guy with his looks but he's actually like any other normal guy when you get to know him. He's just too used in being around with socially high ranking people since it's part of his job." Ghost smiled patting MacTavish's shoulder.
"Well, as the saying goes: Don't judge a book by its cover." The Scot drank again, ordering another glass and another until he couldn't speak, think or walk straight anymore. He placed his head on the counter as his body felt heavy and his head was spinning. "Ghost! Drink up!" He said, sentence so unclear, his Scottish accent thick and strong. He shoved his glass to the other one's mouth. "Drink."
The Brit placed the glass to the side. He looked at MacTavish, placing a hand on the older's forehead and lifting his head up. He pointed two fingers up with his other hand. "Lets play a fun game MacTavish. If you get it right I'll drink a glass. So, how many fingers am I showing you right now?"
The Scot chuckled. "Clearly there are two fingers."
Ghost drunk the contents of the glass with a frown and held up two fingers again. "So how about now?"
The drunk man smirked. "Obviously that's three."
"Wrong, I'm still holding up two fingers." He closed all of his fingers again and this time he held up only his index. "Now, how many do you see, MacTavish?"
He closed his unfocused eyes and shook his head. Squinting after opening them to gain a clearer image. "I see... two of them."
"Wrong again." The Brit stood up. "I think it's time to go home, MacTavish. Don't you think so too?"
"No! Not yet! I still want to keep on drinking." He complained like a child, stomping his feet on the ground.
Ghost sighed, if he'd let the Scot stay any longer its most likely possible that the man will keep on drinking more than he could possibly handle and surely the outcome wouldn't be as pretty as MacTavish would have thought. "You can drink all you want when I get you home. I'll even drink with you. So, what do you say?" Ghost spoke a lie just to get the drunk moving, otherwise he'd just refuse to come along.
It didn't take that long until MacTavish decided. "Aye, take us home." He said so cheerfully, raising a fist up. He stood up but staggered back to the chair as he lost his balance.
"Here, let me help." Ghost took the Scot's arm around his shoulder and helped him walk back to the car. As he opened the front door to the passenger's seat, MacTavish threw up. It was a close call, he nearly puked inside the car. "There, there." Ghost gently rubbed the drunk's back as he continued to vomit. As things settled down inside the man's stomach, they both entered the car, the Brit giving the other a plastic bag in case of emergency.
The drive back home was mostly quiet as MacTavish fell asleep, leaving a trail of droll hanging from his mouth as he quietly snored. Ghost woke the man up once again as they finally arrived at the Scot's house. He helped the older man walk towards the door.
"Where are your keys?" He asked but received no real reply. The Brit was left to search for it himself, so he rummaged through MacTavish's coat's and jean's pockets for the key. As he finally found it in the inside pocket of the coat, he unlocked the door and closed it after they entered. Ghost didn't bother turning the lights on since it was a full moon. He brought the Scot upstairs, to his room. But on the way, the drunk man once again needed to puke and got his clothes all dirty in the process. "At least you didn't spill any on the floor." The younger man muttered under his breath and continued leading the man to his room. Slowly he opened the door to the bedroom and went straight to it's bathroom dragging the man with him.
Ghost pushed the bathroom stool in front of the sink and let the drunk sit on it. He then opened the faucet, letting the water flow. "This might feel a little bit uncomfortable but bear with it." He said as he inserted his finger inside MacTavish's throat, which made the Scot throw up a lot.
After a while he stopped vomiting, it seemed like that was everything he has got left in the stomach. Ghost thoroughly washed his hands and the sitting man's face. And with difficulty, he successfully brushed the man's teeth and lastly undressed the man, leaving only his boxers on. He left the dirty clothes laying on the floor and they went out of the bathroom. He laid the Scot down as gently as he could on his bed and sat besides him. His mohawk became a mess and his face was still flushed red from the alcohol, but he had this peaceful expression on his face while sleeping.
The Brit looked at the sleeping man's body for a while and caressed it while he had a chance to. There were scars all over his body and arms of what seemed to have been inflicted by a sharp, thin object like that of a knife's blade or box cutter. Many things popped into Ghost's mind for possible explanations, he only hoped it isn't what he thinks it is. Under further observation he realized that the man wasn't particularly muscular, he seemed to have lost lots of weight over the past course of weeks since the incident with Roach, this must have been the reason why Ghost had no difficulties in supporting him to walk. MacTavish was frail, that fact was clear and undeniable.
Ghost stared back at MacTavish's face, there were no changes. "I love you, MacTavish." He whispered to his ear as he tamed the hair and brushed his hand against the cheek, his thumb tracing the outlines of the lips. The Brit gulped, those lips are so bloody attractive and kissable. He leaned forward, their faces were just a few centimeters away from each other. He could feel the other's warm breath ghosting over his face, and he just now realized how long MacTavish's beautiful eyelashes were. Ghost leaned a little closer, their lips barely touching each other. A little peak did not satisfy him at all, he kissed him again and with each one he gives it got a little longer and more passionate.
MacTavish moaned and returned the kisses occasionally, although he was still clearly asleep. He opened his eyes but was in a dazed state, he unconsciously called out Price's name as he felt a hand gently pressing against his cheek, he closed his eyes again afterwards.
The Brit bit down on MacTavish's soft lip, it made him angry that his loved one called him by some other man's name. "MacTavish." He whispered again, his hand moving down, around the Scot's neck, putting little pressure on it. "Love only me." He demanded, removing his hand, tracing the man's collarbone with his tongue and biting into the raw flesh of the crook of his neck. MacTavish groaned but it didn't seem painful enough to wake him up. Ghost sucked the same part of the skin long enough to leave a red mark behind. "You are mine, MacTavish. Only mine." He declared his ownership, sealing it with a kiss on the lips.
Ghost tried to stand up but realized that the Scot was taking hold of his wrist. He smile at the sleeping man, removing his shirt and climbing on the man's bed moving the other closer to himself and covered themselves with a blanket. "Good night, MacTavish."
To FrigidNorthWinds: Thank you very much for the review. I really appreciate the suggestions you gave for the story. I'm always happy to read those kinds of reviews since I'm still an amateur in writing, it helps me improve my skills.
I'll be honest and have to admit, I did not plan the break up between Price and Soap at all, I just wrote it without thinking and it ruined the flow I had originally in mind. I know it shouldn't be said out loud but it was a careless mistake of mine, but hey, I'm only human. But because of this mistake I was able to open up opportunities for some characters (Don't want to spoil). I'm really excited to end this because I, myself don't know how it will turn out. My mind is constantly changing everything I've planned, but I think that's a good thing, it keeps everything exciting.
Also I will make everything become clear in due time, like you said how Price and Soap came to be and the real reason behind their simple break up.