A/N: This is part 2 of 7: GLUTTONY. I'm really going with the phrase "Glutton for Punishment" on this one because I really believe that these two are sado-masochists when you get right down to it. ;) NOT ONLY IS THIS INCREDIBLY LONG, BUT IT ALSO CONTAINS SMUT!!! YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!
yeah-bled: Wow. Gad to see I wasn't the only one freaking out over that chapter, lol. I wonder how you're going to feel about this one... /evil grin.
Nadilee: Yes, Roach was a little bit of a whore. This chapter, Ghost is the whore, just not as much as Sanderson...
xania: Continuing the collection. ;)
Gaaragirl2020: I hope you love this one as much as the last ones.
MissPumpkinHead: Now an officially "M" rated story. And I wouldn't be surprised if Sanderson sneaks his way back between MacTavish and Riley... And I think there should just be more MW2 slash in general, lol. This chapter begins the Smut overdose. GREED is going to be interesting, but LUST is going to be over the top. :3
GothicBandicoot: I'm glad.
wolfdemon22: Thanks for the love.
Officially, his records were clean. But it was hard to dirty up a resume that was mostly blacked out and so classified, the Queen of England herself wouldn't be granted a glance. Unofficially, Ghost was the most welcome thorn in MacTavish's side. There was nothing that could warrant a discharge or any official action, just little things he did to worm his way under the Captain's skin; things like intentionally showing up to unit meetings a few minutes late with a hardly suitable excuse, or neglecting whatever reports he should have filed in favor of visiting the shooting range. Of course Ghost made up for it when it counted, but he loved annoying MacTavish.
They were on leave for a solid month, after spending nearly half a year running around in Afghanistan and Kirghistan and whatever other fucking -stan Sheperd could send them to. Soap was on his way back to Scotland to visit his sister. Ghost followed for lack of something better to do. He had no family left in England, no family left anywhere outside the confines of the one-four-one. Besides, Soap had promised him copious amounts of good booze.
Neither of them were particularly fond of being out of uniform, no Kevlar, no tear-resistant outfits, and, in Simon's case, no mask... Simon had a tactical knife tucked into the back pocket of his slightly baggy jeans. He knew that it probably wasn't such a great idea, and it was probably even a little paranoid, but he didn't like feeling unarmed. Soap was similarly carrying a knife. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep the paranoia of being unarmed from taking over. You can only spend so much time with a gun in your hands before not having one makes you feel some how incomplete...
Such were Ghost's thoughts as he followed Soap through the narrow and sleepy streets of some half-forgotten Scottish town to Kira's sprawling house. The two of them took careful note of every alley they passed, every flicker of movement, every person they passed, and all without realizing they were doing it.
Kira's home was a two story building with winding staircases and hidden rooms, unneeded proof of her excellence as a successful architect. Simon's eyes darted up to one of the large bay windows on the second floor. He'd almost thought he'd seen a curtain flutter up there... Rather than say anything, he continued following Soap up the carefully bricked walkway. John rang the doorbell and almost instantly the carved wooden door flew open and a resounding crack echoed through the private street Kira's house sat on.
"I told you to call her." Ghost sighed. John bit his tongue and eyed his sister with a glare. Her blue eyes were as cold as his could ever be, her long black hair pulled away from her face that managed to look delicate despite the scowl that decorated it. There were only three people in the world that had ever struck John openly and faced no sort of consequence, and his mother had died when he was seventeen, and Price had died right next to him. He could never hurt Kira.
"You should have fucking called me. I haven't heard from you since Dad's birthday, and that was eight months ago! I understand that you're involved in everything shady, but that's no reason to let me think you're dead!" Kira raged.
"Are you gonna let us in the door or just stand there and scream at us?" John asked tersely.
"I think you should let me inside and leave him out here." Simon smiled.
"Riley, shut up." Soap warned.
"Stop standin' there like morons and get in here." Kira eventually huffed. She stepped to the side and the two men entered the large marble foyer. They walked a familiar maze of halls until they came to a spacious living room.
"I've only got an hour to spend with you knobs and then I'm due out of here for a meeting with some wealthy bastard who wants a house built out in Dover. Says he wants the entire south wall to be made of fucking windows."
"Kira, you're raving." Simon smiled.
"Hypocrite. At any rate, the two of you are welcome to take the southwest wing like usual. I'm assuming neither of you bothered finding a hotel anyway." Kira sighed, an acrid undertone still tinting her words.
"Look, Kira, I'm sorry I haven't talked to you in a while. We've spent most of our time halfway across the world with more bullets than phones available." Soap tried.
"Don't throw excuses at me, Johnathan Andrew MacTavish." Kira hissed.
"How have things been with you and Deign?" Ghost tried changing the subject.
"If my adoring brother would keep in touch with me, then you'd know that I left him. Four months ago." Kira's word were frigid and John treated the Lieutenant with an equally frigid glare. This conversation was not going well.
"Four months ago, I was stuck in a fucking hole with a rifle and that idiot," MacTavish jerked a thumb in Riley's direction, "And no contact with anyone that wasn't giving me orders." He growled.
Kira took a breath and got up from the chair she was sitting on.
"I know you can't tell me anything that you go through, that you can't tell me where you are all the time, and you can't tell me what you do, but would it kill you to send me a goddamn postage stamp with the words "I'm alive" on it?" Her voice, though softer now, carried a steel edge of intensity.
The three of them were silent for a moment before Kira sighed and muttered something under her breath.
"I'm going to get a drink. You guys want anything?" She eventually asked.
"Whatever you bring back." Ghost shrugged.
Kira turned on her heel and walked towards the kitchen. Soap turned to Riley with a cool gleam in his pale blue eyes.
"I know what you're doing, Simon." He growled.
Ghost tried playing innocent, despite the mischevious smile he wore. Before he could be called on it, Kira returned, handing her brother a glass of scotch and Simon a beer.
"I have to say, Kira, if it weren't for a conflict of interest that might arise, I'd propose to you right now." Ghost winked. Kira rolled her eyes. She was rather used to this sort of banter. She knew the ins and outs of the relationship her brother and the Lieutenant had and she knew that Riley was flirting with her only because it pissed John off.
"I think that if you proposed, interest would be the last conflict you'd have to worry over." Kira muttered dryly.
The earlier argument seemed to have been almost forgotten as John told Kira what little bit he could about what he'd been doing since the last time they'd spoken. Of course, Simon continued flirting with Kira and smirking almost triumphantly when he caught sight of the cold glares thrown in his direction.
"I have to get changed and get out of here. I'll be out of town for at least three days, so you have the house until then." Kira sighed, rubbing her eyes. She'd rather not leave town; John rarely stopped in to visit her anymore, not since he was given command of Task Force 141.
"A few ground rules before I go," She sighed.
"Kira--" Soap's protests were cut short by her piercing gaze.
"Don't trash the place. Don't drink all the booze unless you plan on replacing at least some of it. If you get pissed off at each other, do not, under any circumstances, throw your knives at one another, especially you, John. I'm tired of holes in the fucking walls. If you don't know the code to one of the doors, don't try to hack the system, Simon."
"With as many rules as you have, I'm surprised Soap turned out as slovenly as he did." Ghost mused.
"Riley." Soap growled with a warning tone.
"Enough. Both of you. I'm not finished. If the both of you are going to be out, you know where the spare keys are hidden. Don't leave the place unlocked. If you take one of the cars out, put gas back in the tank. The "emergency" credit card is where it always is, but please, for the love of God, don't leave your pizza and take-away boxes all over my house. Got it?" Kira asked with a menacing smile.
The two men nodded. They got the same list of rules every time they stayed with Kira. She claimed she was looking out for her brother, said it was her duty as the eldest to keep an eye on him.
"Kira, you're older than me by eleven bloody minutes. We aren't children anymore." John said through gritted teeth.
"Then stop whining like one. Fuck it all... I have to get out of here. Don't trash it all." Kira disappeared up a flight of stairs and the Soap turned on Ghost.
"I know what you're doing, and it's annoying as hell." Soap growled.
Ghost smirked at him over the lip of his beer bottle and left the sitting room they were in, walking towards the sprawling entertainment room with it's massive television and turned the channel to a soccer game in progress. He settled in on the couch and propped his feet up on the coffee table.
"Who's playing?" John asked as he sat down, taking up a similar position on the couch next to the Lieutenant.
"Manchester and Liverpool." Simon smirked.
They heard the sharp clicking of Kira's heels and she walked into the room, wearing an expensive-looking dress-suit and looping an earring through her ear.
"Damn. The game's on and I can't watch." She growled. She drug a duffel bag behind her and walked through the room and headed towards the garage. On her return trip, she very graciously dropped a few beers onto the table.
"Kira Jane MacTavish, I want you to marry me." Simon smiled.
"Simon James Riley, I don't think that's a good idea." Kira returned the smile with a little less sincerity.
"Give me one good reason." Riley purred, leaning closer to her.
"John looks like he's pissed. And you know how he gets when he's pissed. Now, be awesome to each other while I'm gone." She placed a kiss on her brother's cheek and shook her head at Simon before she walked out of the door.
"I warned you about flirting with my sister, Simon." John growled.
"All in good fun, Johnny, all in good fun."
MacTavish ignored the comment and watched the football game on the telly.
"I don't know why you're in here. Since Manchester sold off Ronaldo, they haven't got a chance." Simon teased.
"It doesn't take much to beat Liverpool."
"We'll see..."
The game contined, with the two teams flying around each other, kicking at anything anywhere near the ball, penalties be damned. Liverpool scored a goal. Simon's hands were in the air.
"Liverpool! Liverpool!" They'd gone through the beers Kira had left and wandered off to the kitchen for more during lulls in the game.
"Knock it off, Riley." John growled. He was not in the mood for Ghost's teasing.
"Or what? You'll stab me?" Riley snorted, planning on heading to the kitchen. John lunged at him from the couch, taking him to the ground.
"You've been more annoying in the past hour than you usually are in a week." MacTavish hissed.
"Maybe you're just more irritable."
"I know what you're doing."
"Unlikely."
"It's just like Kira said; you know how I get when I'm pissed off, and you're doing all of this intentionally."
There was a tense moment of silence as they tried strategizing, tried anticipating the other's moves. John moved first, kissing Riley with enough force to knock his head into the hardwood, though it didn't phase either of them; it only played into their mile-wide sado-masochistic streak. John bit Simon's lower lip sharply enough to taste blood. The Lieutenant bit back a moan and pulled the Captain closer. It was when they broke to gage the blood-lust of their partner when Simon smirked, "I think you just kept me from proposing to Kira as soon as she gets back." John swung at his partner's face, and the sharp blow made Simon's teeth rattle. He landed a quick knee in MacTavish's lower back and tried switching their positions, which led to another round of fighting.
It wasn't long before Ghost found himself slammed against the wall with a calloused hand around his throat, another tugging sharply at his hair and a foreign tongue invading his mouth. With a groan, he brushed his hips against Soap's and the hand tightened around his throat only slighty. Simon wasn't pleased with that and landed a punch to John's ribs, causing the hands and the mouth to disappear. A quick jab to the solar plexus sent Simon to his knees and John grabbed the breathless Lieutenant's shirt, pulled him to his feet, and kissed him again. It was a bite-littered kiss that hurt almost as much as it pleasured, at least in John's opinion. Simon writhed and silently begged for more.
Still connected at the lips, they stumbled down the hall, biting hard enough to bruise, and eventually made their way up a flight of stairs, tearing at clothes to save time and expose more skin to damage. They broke apart when they reached the door and John growled as he punched in the code. Sometimes, security was a major pain in the ass.
When they finally wrenched the door open, they didn't take time to marvel at the familiar study with it's antique mahogany desk, or the drawing room with its massive windows and extensive book collection, or the teak-wood bar, or the kitchen. They were interested only in getting to the bedroom.
Ghost was tossed backwards onto the bed and the little bit of remaining clothing was discarded. Soap kissed his lover again, only more gently this time.
"Feeling romantic, MacTavish?" Riley teased.
"You're only pissing me off because it gets you off."
Riley growled and sank his teeth into MacTavish's shoulder, stopping only when he tasted copper on his tongue. The taste of blood was familiar, the consistancy well-known. He knew that such a mark wouldn't go unreturned and his groaned when he felt sharp teeth break the skin on his collarbone. The next kiss they shared was thick with blood and more frantic and bruising than any of the previous. While Simon was distracted, John took his hands and the press of cool metal circled Simon's wrists, a sensation that was followed by a few small clicks. Riley looked down at the handcuffs and recognized them as his own, as ones he used during interrogations.
"Restraining me with my own cuffs? Kinky." Simon smirked. John grabbed the chain between the cuffs and used it to pull Simon's hands over his head and hold them easily against the mattress. His free hand wrapped in dark brown hair and pulled his lover's head to the side, exposing an expanse of unmarked skin that was soon littered with spots of red and purple.
"Stop playing around and just fuck me already." Simon growled. He enjoyed playing games and you wouldn't hear him complain about rough foreplay, but there came a point when you had to stop playing and get to the point. As much as he'd like to prolong his lover's torture, John agreed that it was time to get to the point.
There was very little in the way of preparation, aside from John spitting in his hand and using it to slick his erection. He pressed his way into the Lieutenant who responded by freeing his hands of John's grip, looping the chain to the cuffs around John's neck, and groaning in his ear. Riley's entire being was awash in a strange and familiar sea of pain-laced pleasure.
Soap waited only a few short seconds before he slammed his hips into the Lieutenant's, granting him a strangled noise that might have been a moan. Despite the intimate setting, MacTavish was still irritated over everything Riley had done, though they both knew that was why he was so irritating. He was in the mood for rough, almost angry sex, and the best way to get it was through pissing the Captain off.
The sex was fast-paced and filled with harsh movements, brusing kisses, and more bites to draw blood. Neither of them were about to moan over each other like love-sick high school kids, but that didn't stop the occasional pleased groan or panted name.
John could tell Simon was getting close to climax, could tell it by the tone of his ragged breathing, by the way his breaths were more likely to end in a grunt or a short moan than a harsh exhale. He slowed his movements, eventually stopping, and he ran a hand through Riley's hair before kissing him gently. He reangled his hips, knowing his partner well enough to know that the next thrust would hit that bundle of hyper-sensitive nerves... With quick movements, he pulled Simon's hair sharply, dug his teeth into his shoulder, and slammed into him, nearly all at once. Riley screamed and climaxed, pulling MacTavish after him.
After a few seconds of trying to catch his breath, John ducked from under the cuff chain, removed himself from his partner and laid next to him. Riley reached over the edge of the bed, picked up John's discarded boxers, cleaned himself up, and pulled the blankets around himself and his lover. John wrapped an arm around Simon, who rested his head on the Captain's shoulder.
"I wish I could say I hate you for playing your games with Kira. But I think you made up for it." John smirked.
"Hm." Simon purred.
"But if you decide to propose to her again, or if you irritate me too much, I will take you to the brink, tie you to the bed, and leave you." MacTavish whispered, his lips brushing Riley's ear.
Riley chuckled and pressed his face into the crook of his lover's neck. He closed his eyes and wondered just how sore he was going to be in the morning...
A/N2: Okay! So I hope that wasn't too bad... I kinda drug it on FOREVER!!!! Three cheers for hot sado-masochists, right? lol. PEASE LEAVE A REVIEW!! I've noticed a lot of favorites and alerts, and very few reviews. Please, please, please review for me. It would seriously mean a lot to me. Thanks.