Author's note: I'm sorry for the super late update! Life has been hectic lately and I haven't really had time to sit down and write. Anyways...
At last, Ghost and Roach will make an appearance! Still living up to the 'mature' rating here, btw. ;D I can't help it, Soap and Price are horny bastards. The scene isn't nearly as explicit but nonetheless, mature, last sort of mature chapter for a while though. Hope you enjoy~ Reviews are nice, btw. ;3
Dawn came fast, too fast if you asked Soap, always too damn fast. The nights seemed endless and sprawling as the night sky, yet, they flew by. Moving in, surely that would fix that problem. Soon every morning would be like this, well, hopefully not exactly like this, the position was far more than preferable, planted on top of Price and wrapped all around him, impossibly warm and snug? Ideal to one Soap MacTavish, without a doubt, but the sharp pain shooting down his spine when he moved a bit, however, could be left out.
Soap delayed opening his eyes, knowing that, even with the hunter green curtains drawn closed over the sliding glass doors, that the sun would be resilient and glare right through them, unless it was a rainy day, average for Hereford. Since he had so much luck with the silent prayer last night, Soap sent another one; for a cloudy sky and hopefully more than enough time to lay here with Price. That's when Soap pieced everything together in his mind, they were in the living room, on the couch, and not the bedroom...their bedroom. He was to blame for the state of knife edged pain in his back, and more than likely, Price's as well since he was pinning him down into the couch. Which means he fell asleep at some point last night and can't even remember when he did. Fuck. Wouldn't be the first time.
After a few seconds, Soap stopped putting off the inevitable and reluctantly squinted a eye open, at once his vision was filled with the side view expanse of Price's neck, he was close enough to see the risen bumps on his skin and the whiskers from his beard that trailed down. He let out a low hum, it was defiantly a pleasant thing to see first thing in the morning, enough to make the usual morning grouch in him feel unabashedly cheerful. OK, he wouldn't go that far. The mark he worked so hard to leave was still there on Price's neck and it was definitely larger than he intended to make it. Oh yeah, Price would be a little annoyed about that. Even so, a warm, sleepy smile crept over his lips at the sight of the light rouge patch, increased when he took note that the lighting in the room was dim and dull, void of all blaring sun, decreased when he adjusted his back a bit and felt the shock of pain again.
"Shite..." Soap mumbled tiredly, opting to freeze all movement below his waist and wind his arms around Price's chest tighter, re-burying his face in the gap between his neck and shoulder, breathing in deep and slow, controlled breaths. He brushed his lips against Price's jaw, bristling a little at the hair running along it and cuddled close, not wanting to leave the warm comfort of Price's body anytime soon, though his responsibilities were practically screaming at him to move, his valued customers that depended on him for their caffeine high, making sure Ghost doesn't cause the entire shop spontaneously combust with an improper brewing of coffee like he did last week, just to name a few. Soap could tell Price was awake too by the way his hands slid down his back and upwards again in repetitive, gentle sweeps, it was like he wanted Soap to fall back asleep, despite the prickling that must be in his legs.
Price was accustomed to Soap's sluggish state in his waking moments, the opposite of himself, he was wide awake from the moment his eyes peeked open.
"Good morning." Price greeted Soap with a kiss on the side of his face, albeit a difficult maneuver since Soap was still firmly planted under his chin.
Soap acknowledged him with a grunt, deep and rumbled in his chest, not moving an inch. Price rolled his eyes, far from irritated. Admittedly, he was a little, only because of how adorably grumpy the Scot was first thing in the morning.
"Soap...we need to get up." Price urged him, nudging his nose into Soap's hair, his arms stretched out above him before they came back to rest on Soap's body.
"Mmm'n not awake." Soap mumbled onto the other man's skin, closing his eyes again to play up the act. Pointless really, since his face was burrowed under Price's jaw.
"How are you talking then?" Price asked dryly, his legs had long since fallen asleep from Soap's considerable weight, he was certainly bulkier than the older man and as comfortable and warm as it was to be under his body, he wasn't as young as he used to be and being stuck in the same exact position for hours on end made him stiff. Not in a...pleasant way like last night, it was borderline painful at this point.
"Hmm...Mmpf."
"It's..." Price paused and stretched his neck up to glance at the clock in the corner by his desk, "7:04 am and we still need to take a bloody shower. and I think you said something about eating ice cream for breakfast. If you don't get up, none of that will be possible." Price said in the most persuasive tone he could manage.
At first, Price didn't even receive a noise this time, then Soap made a disgruntled sound, shifting somehow even closer so they could keep the warmth they built up from the hours of sleep.
"If you don't make it to work, think what disasters Ghost will cause, remember last week when you showed up and he served a customer three cups of non-virgin Scottish cream..on the rocks, like a bloody bartender at a pub instead of a barista in a coffee shop?" Price added in a tired voice.
Clearly that was exactly the motivation the younger man needed to move. Obviously no one would soon forget the incident of last week, Operation Ghost Is A Whiskey Hotel (Walking Hazard), not so much an incident, but a way of life with Simon Riley. Ah, nothing like coming into work on a Tuesday morning to find a half plastered drunk man stumbling about the shop, rambling something about his most likely to be ex-wife. Never again could Ghost be trusted with the Scottish Cream. Roach couldn't be held at fault, he was innocently baking away in the back, completely unaware of his boyfriend's actions despite his perpetual history of bad decisions, literally one of the few good choices Ghost made in his life was asking Roach on a date.
Soap sighed and removed his face from the juncture of Price's neck, and pressed a sleepy-edged kiss on the other man's mouth, "Alright, alright. I'm up." Soap said begrudgingly with his strong accent, the words hushed on edge of Price's mouth. His own light blue eyes glancing up to meet Price's sapphire blue for the first time that morning.
Price kissed him once, twice, maybe a third time in a eager greeting, clearly not satisfied with the single, slow peck Soap gave him, "I had a feeling that would get you moving..." Price smirked up at him, his eyes crinkled on the edges.
Of course he did, Price knew everything, he knew him better than himself. Ack, bloody sexy professor, always the bloody sexy professor.
Soap's fingers fiddled around in Price's chest hair, the corner of his mouth pulling down in a frown. "Goddamn mornin's..always come and ruin everything with brightness and a day full of work ahead."
"Soap, you love your job." Price said, the smirk melting away into a smile.
"Aye, I do...just not as much as I love laying here with you," Soap snuggled himself tighter around Price, but in the process his lower back moved in the same way as before, the pain jabbed at him again. "Bloody hell, I apologize for immense amount of discomfort we'll be enduring today, thanks to my expert topping." Soap muttered guiltily, kissing Price on either side of his face, then his lips, as if it was its own act of apology.
Price chuckled deeply into the kiss, shaking his head, he leaned forward into the kiss, making it last a few more seconds before pulling away, "Come on, love, it's not that. I happen to think you're quite...impressive as a top."
Soap couldn't help but feel lightly heated at the memories of last night, he loved when Price was on top, but last night was something new, exciting, and he couldn't fight the warm stirring in his belly at the thought of doing it again. He wasn't sure how to take the compliment, apparently he still had to work on that modesty issue of his even through all the compliments Price had given him during the course of their relationship. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip and kissed Price quickly again, "You should have woke me up, saved us from this insufferable fate."
"Right, like that would've worked. When you're asleep...you're not moving for at least 8 hours. And you happened to fall unconscious on me, meaning, waking you was a pointless effort." Price said with a dry voice, an undercurrent of teasing in the words, "I was tired anyways, you know how to wear a man out." He murmured, reaching up to trace the line of Soap's jaw, the man's stubble prickling on the tips of his fingers.
A devilish smile broke out on the Scotsman's face, "Is that so? I made you and your never ending sex drive tired, eh? I'd say that's a big accomplishment.."
"I told you that you were good.." Price said, returning the smile, a little more subtle than Soap's smug one and shifted his lower body, cringing at the maneuver.
Soap noticed, at first a concerned looked flashed in his eyes, brows pulled down, but then a different matter crossed his mind. "Sore?" Soap asked with a positively naughty glint in his eyes.
"A little. Nothing terribly uncomfortable."
"It's a good sore then?" Soap's tone was edging on anxious, he was hoping it was, he felt the good ache countless times before, they were known to be a little...rough, at times. It was how they liked it though.
"Mhm." Price hummed, stroking his fingers over Soap's cheeks, from the smooth parts bellow his eyes, to the rough parts where his stubble began.
Soap took one of Price's hands into his on and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss on the side, no words could convey the flurry of emotions "Still, maybe next time I top, I should avoid literally being on top, it seems to be the cue for me to pass out right on you when we're done."
"Actually, you do it when I'm the one on top too..." Price said, looking amused all over again.
"So exclude the missionary position all together? No sodding way, I love when you're right above me..I can feel you all over me, can kiss you as much as I want without twisting my bloody neck backwards..." And you bite my neck a lot, leading me to curse quite obscenely, and you fuck me harder too, he silently added. They were practically mind readers with each other, so Price could hear the rather loud thoughts.
Price laughed, a little louder than before and wiped away a grit in Soap's eye, resting his palm on the side of his face after. "Actually...it's pretty adorable when you fall asleep after, love. And we're definitely keeping the position, no question, no matter if you fall asleep or not."
"Adorable, really?" Soap rhetorically asked with a sigh when Price shrugged with a nod. "I can't help it! Sex makes me sleepy. Or this bloody couch does, I dunno. Guess it's a good thing Hellraiser is coming here to claim it." He said, even if the thought of no longer having sex on it made him undeniably upset.
"I suppose so..."
"But, damn, I'll miss this old thing." Soap sighed and rested his chin on Price's chest, peering up at him through his lashes.
Price smiled fondly at him and messed his fingers through Soap's mohawk again, the smile only growing when he saw Soap's eyes close, utterly relaxed at the petting in his hair.
"Well...if the mood strikes our fancy to get frisky on it, we can always put Hellraiser in the guest bedroom for an hour or so...or the rest of the evening. Nothing can kill the mood faster than a cat jumping on your arse in the middle of sex." Price grunted, cringing, he was speaking from experience.
"Price..did you really just say 'get frisky'? And why is that fucking sexy, damn. Anyways, ah, the 3 month anniversary sex...I'll never forget that night, and neither will poor Hellraiser. Catching his dads in the middle of the act.."
"Poor Hellraiser!" Price scoffed out with a disbelieving laugh. "What about me? I think I still have those claw marks on my arse..."
"You do." Soap confirmed with a nod, he would know, he spent a good amount of his time staring at it. "I might be speaking for myself, but I could've kept going just fine after that."
"You are...sort of. That's because when you're...otherwise distracted..you don't notice anything besides sex."
Soap opened his mouth to counter that, but he couldn't deny it. "Can't argue with that." He said, his voice akin to a shrug. "Back to locking Hellraiser up, I'd feel guilty, he'd be all bored and shite locked up in there, probably think we're abandoning him like his real mum did when he was a kitten..."
"...Not if he's in there with the new cat tower Gaz and I put together." Price said nonchalantly, scratching his beard with a thoughtful expression, a smile playing on the edge of his lips, suppressed, but glimmering teeth were peeking through.
"Hm, that's true, - I mean, what? New cat tower, huh?" Soap's head flew off of Price's chest, his brows crinkled together as his eyes darted all across Price's face.
The smile finally broke out on Price's face, sunny as the morning sky, and just as sleepy. Soap looked over his shoulder in the direction of the guest bedroom and back to Price, a questioning brow raised, the older man responded with a nod, the smile still locked in place. Soap all but hopped off the top of Price, feeling around the edge of the couch for his boxer shorts and yanked them on, all while walking to the room, leaving Price momentarily stunned on the couch from the sudden lack of a comfy, warm Soap on top of him. He followed suit, raising up quickly and slipping on his own undergarments, meeting Soap halfway to the room, pausing his opening of the door with a lifted wave of his hand.
Price twisted the knob and pushed the door open, letting Soap step inside the room before him.
The first thing Soap's eyes fell on in the moderate sized room was the over the top cat tower in the left corner of the room, three tiers off the ground, various toys dangled from the edges, and was it — it was carped in goddamn camo print.
"I...don't know what to say." Soap said slowly, his mouth was gaped open in surprise. He walked towards it and felt the smooth carpet, trailed up to the scratching posts on the side.
Price walked over to stand beside him, rubbing the back of his neck, "Is it too much? I know how much he likes to climb all over the place and watch over everyone..."
"Hmm, judging everyone, harshly, as Ghost says."
"Exactly what I was going to add, I thought it would be perfect for him, it's right in front of the window too, he can watch all the drunks walk home on the way from the pub. Judge them instead of our rampant sex life." Price said with a soft chuckle, making the move to shift the hat on his head, but his hands met empty air, forgetting that it wasn't on its usual place, instead it was tossed somewhere probably on the floor. Ah, Soap.
"I love it, it's perfect." Soap whispered. His voice may have been low and quiet, but the beaming smile that fell on his face was exuberant and bold, his eyes looking adoringly over at Price.
Price cleared his throat and smiled in return, wrapping an arm around Soap's waist. "I'm glad you like it.." He said thickly, the simple sentence disguising an array of emotions.
Soap turned into his arm and reached up to slip his own arms around Price's neck, "Did you get this to persuade me into moving in if I said no?" Soap asked mock-suspiciously, a playful glint in his eyes.
Price lowered his hands down to Soap's hips, pulling him closer, "I'll admit, I bought in hopes you and the little guy would move in, but also, just in case you didn't, he could still come over to visit and have something to do here besides jump on my arse." Price told him earnestly with his arms crossed over his bare chest, gauging Soap's ecstatic reaction to the gift, a pleased smile on his lips by how happy the gift made Soap.
"Bloody hell, just when I think I can't possibly love you more, you do shite like this... And make me say shite like that..." Soap said in disbelief, leaning into him, their foreheads resting together.
"You claim I'm his 'other father' and all, suppose I should be doing stuff like this."
"How could you think for even a second I'd say no to moving in? I never...I'll always say yes. No matter what." Soap told him, leaning up into a kiss. His mind may have drifted to other things with the promise, sappy daydreams of a proposal flickering in his mental vision.
Price pulled back a little, not reading too much into the dreamy look on Soap's face. "I was planning on showing you last night, after dinner, but other things came up.." Price trailed off with a smirk that said it all.
Oh, other things came up all right.
"Oops." Soap said, without a trace of regret in his voice and a easy shrug of his shoulders. "I can't wait to show 'em."
"Me neither." Price agreed, giving him one last kiss. "Say, you still up for that ice cream?"
"When am I not?"
Price told Soap to go ahead and get his...unconventional breakfast ready and that he'd be right there in a minute. Soap practically floated to the kitchen, his emotions riding on a high of love that he never felt before in his entire life. The carton waiting for him in the freezer may have contributed to the feeling too. A little.
Soap opened the cabinet next to the refrigerator and pulled out a bowl, big enough for three, but he could make it work for two. When he turned around he saw their deserted dinner on the dining room table, not a good idea to leave that sitting there all day. He pulled the freezer door open on the stainless steel fridge and scanned over the contents of it, nearly sighing happily at the sight of the butter pecan ice cream. While it sat on the counter, he collected the dirty dishes from their dinner that was long forgotten after a meaningful look and a proposition. He rinsed them off quickly and set them in the sink, he'd do this later, after he got his fill. Then again, he wondered if the dirty plates would become another casualty of Price's, the lost and never cleaned dishes that ended up chucked in the garbage.
Spooning into the bowl a more than decent serving, Soap leaned on the counter and wasted no time in eating it. His eyes looked around the kitchen, a warm smile crossing his face, combating the chill inside his belly. He'd been in this kitchen a thousand times, paced on these very floors late at night for a snack, been back up into counter and pressed against the fridge by Price, took one too many shots of whiskey with friends...and now it wasn't simply his boyfriend's kitchen, it was theirs.
Several bites later, there was a loud shout, Soap could make out the words, "Bollocks!", followed by, "Bloody hell."
He could hear Price all the way from the kitchen, he abandoned his mostly empty bowl of ice cream on the counter and walked to the bathroom in the master suite to see Price with his head lifted up, fingers prodding around a large circular mark on his neck while looking in the mirror.
"Soap." Price grunted, turning to look at Soap with an annoyed grimace on his face.
"...Yeah?" Soap answered, stepping into the bathroom all the way, settling next to the other man.
"Was this necessary?" Price asked in a clipped tone, pointing sharply to the mark on his neck.
"If I say yes, are you less inclined to be upset with me?" Soap questioned, pulling out an old trick, his best wide eyed, puppy look. The eyes didn't work for once, Price still looked as put out as ever.
"More than likely, no."
Soap sighed and ran his hand through his mohawk. "At least I still have some sort of odds in my favor..."
"I work at a school." Price said, as if it explained everything.
"Eh, technically, a college, darling... Believe me, those kids — adults — have seen much more graphic stuff than a wee hickey."
"Wee, Soap? Really, this is far more than wee." Price said shortly, his own eyes widening, not in a pouting way, but...exasperated. Exceedingly. "And I don't doubt that they seen more explicit things but...on one of their professors?" He finished, blinking over at Soap.
Soap's hands flew up in defense. "You're the one always saying you're a boring professor! Now's your chance to prove to those who think that about you that they're wrong...very wrong. " Soap persuaded with a wink and crossed his arms over his chest, a satisfied smile finding its way to his lips as Price started to look slightly convinced.
"Ok..fine. But next time you feel the need to mark me up in visible places, can you at least wait till the weekend?"
"Goddamn, it's hard for a man to resist..don't know if I can promise that, Price. And you look fucking sexy...knowing I left that on you turns me on." Soap said huskily, stepping over to him, his fingers gliding down the side of the mark slowly, with clear intent of the filthiest kind.
If Price didn't look convinced that the hickey wasn't a bad thing before, he sure as hell did now.
Price grabbed the hand on his neck and pulled Soap into the shower, closing the door behind them, his eyes never leaving Soap's the entire time, that primal spark of lust burned up in his vision. Soap swallowed hard, he may have been the one in control last night, but there wasn't even the smallest trace of submission flowing off of Price this morning.
One of Price's hands reached to turn on the shower in a quick move, the water poured over them, it was a shock of cold over their warm bodies, but a moment later it was perfectly under scolding, his skin covered in goosebumps as Price shoved him back into the dark tile and captured his lips in dominating kiss, water dropping into their open mouths, hitting their tangled tongues. It didn't occur to Soap until then that they were still wearing their underwear, the cloth was drenched and dragging on his already hardening cock, but Price was one step ahead, keeping the kiss going while sliding the fabric down both of them, now fully exposed to the hot water, to Price's hand. But he doesn't touch them yet, of course not.
Price's mouth tore away from Soap's, both of them breathing heavy now in the steamed air. Soap kissed down the side of Price's face, surprisingly it was him being the one to calm down the jumbled movements, but there wasn't time, right when he was wanting to take it slow, there wasn't any damn time. Price's mouth skated across his upper body, leaving a trail of wet kisses on his chest, his neck, and shoulders. Soap hissed with pleasure when he felt Price sink his teeth on the muscle of his shoulder.
"Price, if you're trying to get bloody revenge, than I fully support this." Soap groaned as Price bit the other side, his back arched off the tiles, hips inching forward enough that their hard cocks rubbed together, the water making the skin stick, each roll of his hips drawing out a moan from his throat. Price was suppressing his own again, but Soap could hear every grunt, no matter how quiet, Price's desperate kisses on his body, the nips on his skin, the sharp intakes of breath, it's loud enough for him.
Price gripped his hand around both of them, just under being too tight, Soap's panting now, he can't stop his hips from thrusting into the hold, earning him a breathy groan from Price, so he does it again, and again, until the older man stop his movements with a firm hand on his hip.
Soap's head leaned back onto the tile, biting hard on his bottom lip with a moan, his breathing hitching when he locks eyes with Price's intense gaze. "Ahh, Price...dammit."
Price's hand starts moving then, his strokes start agonizingly slow, but when his name is chanted from Soap's loudly moaning mouth, he quickens the pace, squeezing at the base of them both, his thumb running along the veins, Soap stopped thinking a long time ago, letting his body take over, glad that Price knows how to play himself and Soap like a well-loved instrument, one that he knew every cord to pluck to get the soft cries from Soap.
Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to the same spot Soap had last night on his body and began leaving his own possessive mark. Price was breathing heavily in his ear, pausing his marking every once in a while to suck on Soap's earlobe, the side of his jaw, run his tongue along Soap's open, gasping mouth. "Don't worry, love." Price purred in his ear, his British accent rasping heating his skin, "No one will think you're a boring barista with this.."
Oh, fuck.
Price was damn near animalistic at this point, rough, but that's how Soap loved it.
"Harder...ah, fuck..do it harder." Soap begged, groaning out as Price did just that, biting down on his pulse point, a cry of his name leaving the younger man's mouth. Price's beard forcefully grated on his sensitive neck, an exquisite pleasure, he rasped out another cry, holding onto Price.
The water from the shower had been gradually turning cold but neither of them noticed, Soap was lost now, his vision blurred, the only clear thing was their hard lengths sliding together, held in Price's firm grasp. He wasn't sure how loud he'd been moaning, until he felt his throat burning.
Price thrust harder and harder, his hips pounding into Soap's, muscle smacked against muscle, until the younger man was on the tip of his toes, grasping at Price's shoulder, supported by the wall and Price's weight. It's Soap's turn sink his fingers into Price's back, dragging them down the expanse of it, pressed hard at the firm flesh above Price's ass. Their bodies melded together, skin hotter than the water was, their cocks twitched in Price's hand, his thumb dipped in over the tips, spreading their pre-cum over their tightly pressed cocks, now slippery in his tight hold.
Soap barely has enough time to register it before he's coming with a loud moan echoing off the tile walls as the other man's teeth sink deep into his neck, he pulsed harder over Price's clenched fist and abdomen, riding out the wave. The strong currents of his rolling hips enough to make Price come following him, crying out Soap's name in the crook of his neck, he held them like that, his mouth peppering kisses on the underside Soap's face, searching for his mouth and meeting it in a panting kiss, their hands clasped together, Soap's head pressed against the tiles, still kissing, a soft noise of contentment hummed in the back of his throat as Price moved his hand around them away, cupping the side of Soap's face.
Soap felt that deep pound in his chest again, fuck, he'd never want anyone other than this man, his hand clasped tighter around Price's as he slumped into his arms, Price caught him with a low, sultry laugh.
"Gotcha." He wouldn't let him fall.
...
The shower may have took a little longer than on your typical morning, but for Soap and Price, it was normal. Soap never had been one for showering in the morning, too tired, too lazy, Price changed that with his version of a shower. They were stirring, more volting to his system than a cup of coffee or several One Shot, One Kills could ever cause. Maybe Soap should correct his earlier statement, some sex made him sleepy, other sex, like this morning, lite every nerve on fire, making him hyper-aware of everything. For such a gentleman, Price fucked like a porn star. Not that Soap was complaining. At all. Though it did leave him with something akin to an addiction, a constant hunger, never getting enough of Price.
Soap rushed through his routine, fixing his hair in a dash, apparently his mohawk was refusing to be pushed back the way he normally styled it. Silently, he blamed Price for his excessive messing about in it for its limp state, strands loosely falling on his forehead. Soap grunted in frustration, reaching for the bottle of gel for the 3rd time, squeezing a liberal amount on the tips of his fingers and working the sticky product into his hair, pulling piece by piece of his mohawk, arranging it in place.
"Bloody damned hair..." Soap growled under his breath, a stubborn part refused to flip back and dangled down by his widow's peak like some form of Superman's curl.
Price peeked his head around the corner of the bathroom, he was already dressed and ready to go, he must have found his hat, wherever it had been thrown last night, and amazingly he wasn't wearing his usual button up shirt. Instead, a lightweight grey sweater was pulled over his upper body, the material was tight to his chest and abdomen, Soap could make out the planes of muscle in the older man's torso, appallingly detailed, how the fuck was he expected to resist throwing himself on the man? He felt his irritation level decrease drastically at the sight of him.
"Soap, it's 7 minutes till 8..we need to get — having some problems?" Price asked, tapping a finger on the wood paneling of the bathroom door's frame.
"Aye," Soap answered gruffly, turning back to his reflection in the mirror.
Price stepped over and reached up, trying to put the piece of Soap's hair back himself, he was more patient than Soap, but the effort was pointless, the bundle of hair flopped back down every time. He frowned slightly. "Well I tried..." Price muttered, pressing a kiss to Soap's lips and walking back to the doorway.
"For fuck's sake, I'm over this." Soap said shoving off the counter and turning to leave, not before catching sight of his neck in the mirror, he flew back in front of it and lifted his head to see several marks scattered across his neck. "Oi! I left one hickey on you, and you leave half a dozen on me? And teeth marks on top of that, shite."
Price chuckled in the doorway, Soap glanced over at him to see that he was standing and looking as proud of himself as ever, a smug grin on his face.
"I believe at one point you begged me to do that..." Price clarified with an arched brow.
Soap remained silent for a few moments. "Shite..you're right, fine let's just...go." Soap said, swallowing hard. He did beg Price to mark him, harder even, and he'd do it again, no question.
"Good thinking because it's now, " Price reached over and checked the time on Soap's wrist watch. "4 till 8."
At the front door Soap slid on his black gloves, the ones that didn't cover three of his fingers, the days of needing a thick layered pair put to rest, for the next couple of months at least. Soap remembered to wrap a tactical scarf around his neck to hide the obscene display, not just from customers, but more from Ghost and his intrusive commentary. Price wrapped his own blue scarf around his neck, the one Soap gave to him all those months ago. At least it was a mildly cold, cloudy day, scarves were acceptable in Hereford year round. The sight of them both in a scarf, not for warmth, but for necessity, made him chuckle, Price joined right in.
Price made sure to send Soap off with a plentiful helping of last night's dinner for his lunch and one for himself. As they walked down the hall to the front door Price stopped, Soap halted his movement too and turned around to face the older man.
"Bollocks, I almost forgot..." Price said, reaching into his front pocket of his dark trousers. "This belongs to you" He held out a small, dark red, velvet box for Soap to take.
Soap's heart nearly fluttered into overdrive as he took the box and ran his fingers over the silky exterior of the box, he steadied his breathing and snapped his eyes up to Price, but the man had a carefully held stoic expression on his face. Soap lifted the top open and was met with a metal key, shining silver, brand new, not a scratch in sight on the pristine metal. The top of the key was covered in a shiny plastic, a picture of an m1911 held inside, beautiful and just like Price's, but it was his. All his. The look in Price's eyes conveyed it to Soap, now that Price's expression broke away from it's concentrated poker face shell. The gesture was sweet and once again, unbelievably romantic.
Definitely not for the first time in the past 24 hours, Soap was at a loss for words, his throat felt clogged with a thick emotional pressure. He picked the key from it's outlined resting place and held it between his fingers, getting a feel of it. It wasn't simply a key, it was a symbol, a sign, a object to signify the turning point in their relationship, it was evolving, moving to another level, much slower than his friends had moved, but it was comfortable. They were growing, they were making new memories, together.
"I guess this makes it a done deal then, eh?" Soap said breathlessly, a beaming grin on his face.
"Sure does," Price confirmed, kissing Soap on the side of his cheek. "Welcome home, love."
"It's always been home, this just...makes it a fact. When should I move in?"
"Whenever. As soon as you want to. There's no rush, but I wouldn't object to as soon as possible.." Price answered with an easy shrug, the smirking smile on his face was all Soap's too.
Soap nodded and took his words into consideration, so the decision was up to him. It took only a moment of thought to agree that as soon as possible sounded nice..
Just as Soap was beginning to reach for the front door, Price's hand was there opening it for him and letting him walk through.
"Well played, darling..." Soap granted him with a click of his tongue, walking through the black lacquered door.
Number of times Price has opened the door for him: 258
Number of times he's opened the door for Price: 0
Bollocks.
Soap would get it someday...and today was not that day.
Price laughed and winked at him, reviling in his success. "I'm sure you'll get the upper hand one day. After all, you did last night." He balanced his textbooks and lesson plan binder to dig into his pocket, searching for his door keys.
"Here, let me, I should test it out." Soap insisted, the key was still held in his grasp, a finger dragged down the dull jagged shaft as before he inserted the key into the lock and twisted. The sound of audible clicking chambers locked up their front door, a lopsided smile on his face when he turned around to face Price, his expression mirroring his own.
They parted their separate ways with a kiss, which had been so devastatingly enticing that if it weren't for their glaring responsibilities on a tight scheduled, there's no doubt Soap would have dragged Price back into the house by the collar of his shirt, leaving a large 'DO NOT DISTURB - ESPECIALLY IF YOU'RE SIMON RILEY' sign on the front door.
"Have a good day."
"Can't imagine it being anything other than that..." Soap said quietly, caressing his fingers on Price's beard as they broke apart. "You too...love you."
"Love you too." Price whispered back, kissing Soap's hand and turning to leave.
Soap sighed dreamily, not that he was the type or anything, as he watched Price walk away. It'd been a hell of an anniversary, better than any man could ever hope to have... Everything was perfect, beyond perfect.
The only problem left now was...how to tell Ghost and Roach he was moving out. And when.
With a belly full of butter pecan ice cream, the healthiest breakfast for any barista, a slightly satisfied sex drive, and a key to his home kept close to his heart in his coat pocket, Soap walked to work. The quick pace turned into a power walk, turned into a jog, and ended with a run, the ice cream and last night's dinner weighing him down.
He hadn't had much time to hit the gym with Ghost and Roach in the months he's been with Price, granted the once or twice daily sex was an acceptable alternative, it didn't completely make up for bench pressing or a long run on a treadmill. Either way, Soap could tell he'd gained a small amount of weight since he began dating Price, the man's unbelievably good cooking to blame, and the late nights on the couch, eating ice cream. He'd always been a junk food addict, but he balanced it out with exercise before...now he hadn't done his weekly run at the park for over 5 weeks and all he had to fall back on was briskly walking to work, taking his breaks standing up at work, and fitting in pull ups on the bar, push ups, crunches, and lunges all in the break room in the back of the coffee shop between bites of a bagel. And the sex, always the sex. Even the sex couldn't help all too much, typically he was the one on the bottom, being maneuvered and taking it, while Price was the active one, and of course he was ridiculously fit and trim, not an extra ounce of fat on that sex-god body.
He raced through the last meters between him and RSASS and Shine, glancing quickly at his watch. Right on time, no unfortunate incidents with Ghost could have possibly happened.
The chiming rang through the shop, the only noise in the empty room. That is, until Ghost popped his head around the corner, skull balaclava in his hand, giving Soap a wide grin.
"Hey, mate, was worried you wouldn't make it in! Thought Price decided to hold you hostage at his place...ya know..extend that anniversary celebration." Ghost greeted, jogging over to Soap and slapping a friendly hand on his shoulder.
Soap thought, 'If anyone out of the two of us was holding someone hostage today, it'd be me...', his thoughts shifting back to the shower and Price's impossibly tight shirt.
"Hey, Ghost." Soap said with a half smile, punching the younger Brit in the arm lightly. "Shite, you think I'd really leave you alone here? After the Scottish Cream?" Soap muttered, raising a brow at him, walking to the back room to hang up his coat, he hoped the key stayed in place inside its box, or Ghost would hear the clanking.
"Oh come on! That was forever ago." Ghost yelled, following behind Soap to the back.
"It wasn't even two weeks ago, ya numpty!" Soap corrected, giving him a blank look. Roach was practically a blur, mixing 3 different batters at once, pulling bagels out of the oven, his brows pulled down the entire time. "Hey, Roach!" Soap said, gripping at the younger man's shoulders, making him jump in shock. Soap chuckled and removed his hands, walking over to another hook, and pulling on his apron.
"Holy shit! Soap! Hi..uh..I didn't know you were here, thought Price decided to —"
"I know, I know..hold me hostage. Bloody hell. Sometimes you two freak me out with that shite." Soap shook his head and tied the apron behind his back, fixing the name tag on the front. "You feed Hellraiser this morning?" Soap asked, mainly directing the question towards Roach, who once again started flying around the kitchen like a madman.
"Oi, sure did...bloody cat ate half of my muffin." Ghost answered, slapping Roach's ass when walked past him, earning him a soft glare from the younger man, which was a bit unusual, the usual response was Roach giving him a dirty look, not the traditional one, but a look that implied things that Soap would rather not linger on.
"What? Ghost, he's supposed to eat his special brand, ocean flakes, on his food dish, not a goddamn muffin! He has to follow his special diet." Soap snapped at him.
"Hey, he wanted it!" Ghost's hands flew up in defense. "Sodding cat practically ripped it from my hands with his claws, those things hurt, you know. Told you that you should invest in those rubber things you glue over his nails..."
Soap sighed exasperated, pinching his thumb and index finger on the bridge of his nose. "If you made my cat sick, Riley, I swear I'll..." Soap threatened.
Always the peacemaker, no matter how stressed out or annoyed he was, Roach came between them, placing a hand on Ghost's chest, instantly seizing all of Ghost's excuses and calming him. "Don't worry, dude, I caught him before he got too much, it wasn't really half his muffin, just a bite. I gave him his real food." Roach informed Soap, dropping his hand from Ghost's chest.
Soap sighed in relief. "Thank you, Roach. At least one of you is normal."
"Are normal, Soap. ARE." Ghost corrected, quickly grabbing up Roach's hand again and kissing the top of it despite the peeved frown on Roach's face.
Well, he was happy.
"Cut the chatter and grammatical corrections. We have work to prep for..." Soap snapped shortly, dismissing his friend with a hard glare, shooting daggers at him while he picked up a large bag of coffee beans.
Soap spent most of the day fighting the urge to brag about Price getting Hellraiser a cat tower, and about the news of him moving in with Price..he didn't think the middle of work was the best place to bring up something like that.
The foam maker on the coffee machine malfunctioned, jetting a frothy splash of milk on the front of his apron, all the way up to his face. Soap paused, blinking in shock, he could feel the liquid slide down his cheeks. Of course, that's when Ghost would come over.
"I never got to ask, how'd the anniversary dinner go?" Ghost asked cheerfully, patting a hand on Soap's shoulder and grabbing a hot pot of coffee off the counter, filling a to-go cup almost to the top. He did his showing off move of flipping two bottles of flavoring in his hands, vanilla and caramel, and squirted them into the cup and stirred with a plastic stick, handing the coffee over to the customer.
Ghost walked back to Soap and looked over at him, still waiting for an answer. He saw his friend frozen there, and the milk spattered all over the Scotsman's face, he barked out a laugh, his hand slapped on the counter over and over, vibrating the surface. "Good look for you, mate!"
"Laugh it up, you git..." Soap muttered, searching for a towel on the granite counter and coming up empty handed.
Ghost rose a brow, "Oh, I will. Told you that steaming thing was ancient and fucked, why don't you use your bloody scarf, don't get why you're wearing that sodding thing inside. You're such a hipster, MacTavish" Ghost reached over for it.
"Wait! Ghost don't — "
Too late, the scarf was plucked off his neck, he slapped his hands as quick as he could over his neck, too late for that as well.
"Holy jesus bloody, you and Price are freaks! I thought Bug and me were into biting, but bloody damn you too take the kinky cake!" Ghost yelled, loud enough for the entire shop to hear, and once again, busted into laughter.
Soap shushed him with a growl, "Goddammit, did you really need to broadcast that to the entire shop?" He seethed quietly, his face now flushed red in anger under the frothy white splotches that lingered, he quickly wiped his face off with the scarf and wrapped it back around his neck. "If you don't shut it, I swear I will bloody kill you, Riley."
Ghost didn't stop, he held his belly against the quakes of laughter. "Kill me? Mate, I already died laughing!"
Soap glared harshly at him the entire time, even when he called out the customer's number and gave her the espresso, not catching her confused stare. His fingers tapped on the counter as he shot a look at his friend, thankful that his screeching laughter finally died down.
Catching the tears from his fit of chuckles, Ghost leaned on the counter next to Soap. "Oh man, I'll never call you and Price boring old farts ever again." Ghost said, running his sleeve over his damp an red cheeks.
"I'm so glad to hear it." Soap retorted sarcastically, giving him one last dirty look before returning to the growing line of customers.
"If looks could kill..." Ghost mumbled, backing away from the murderous vibes coming off of Soap. "I see you're not in a talking mood...I'll just be going."
Later that day, Soap was still wrestling with the idea of breaking the news to his friends. Truth be told, he wasn't that upset with Ghost. He knew the man, knew his...certain sense of humor. Of course he'd want to see what was under his scarf. Ugh. But regardless of Ghost's nosy, perverted-ness, did he really have to share such...private information with everyone in the shop? Soap glanced over to Ghost and Roach behind the counter, a pot of steaming 'Back on the Grind' in his hands, Ghost was laughing his ass off about something obnoxiously, yet again, while Roach had very unamused look on his face, his hands planted on his hips. See, he couldn't leave the two of them alone for 5 minutes without Ghost doing something completely numpty-headed.
With a loud sigh, Soap went back to making his rounds, starting with the table in the center of the room, closing the distance, he recognized the familiar face of Gaz, Price's best mate, clad in his typical baseball hat branded with the UK flag. A small, friendly grin broke out on Soap's lips as he walked over to the grizzly faced Brit.
"Hiya, mate. Can I top you off?" Soap asked, raising and shaking the pot of coffee in his hands, careful to not spill any on Gaz, though he was sure that it wouldn't end anything like the incident with Kingfish, Vladimir biggest prick in the world Makarov, did had it spilled on the man. But if Gaz tried to do anything, Soap had a feeling Price would appear out of nowhere and punch his own best mate in the face. Realistically, Gaz would jump up screaming about his twig and berries burning and that wasn't the best way to guarantee continuing customers. Soap would rather avoid either situation, thank you very much.
"Not sure, my cup looks pretty full, don't it?" Gaz said, nodding down to the cup, Soap peered in the mug, to find it completely empty and let out a sigh.
"Always nice to have you and your awful sense of humor here, Gaz. It always brightens my day." Soap muttered, filling the cup to the top with the steaming coffee.
"I'll never understand how Price said the service here was excellent and charming. All I ever get it is your dry remarks and death glares..it's just like I'm talking to another Price. You two are perfect for each other." Gaz grabbed a small handful of the liquid cream serving tubs, at least 5 more than necessary, and opened them with his teeth, dumping them in one by one into his cup. "Speaking of Price, he apologized he couldn't make it in for lunch...poor man got swamped with paperwork he didn't complete last night, and the bloody dean, Kamarov, was talking his ear off. He told me to tell you he'll make up for it later, he sends his regards, and I'm sure a big kiss or three, not that he'd ask me to include that one. Probably worry I'd actually do it." Gaz said with a laugh, shaking his head.
"So would I..." Soap mumbled, eyeing the small pile of now empty creamers messily dripping onto the glass top table.
Ah, Price wouldn't be coming for lunch, Soap felt a crushing blow of disappointment, he could really use one of Price's strong, tight hugs right about now. But alas, Price was a professor, a busy bloody professor. Probably had to do with the...eventful evening they had. Either have a half-ass anniversary or miss lunch with Price, he weighed out which one was was worse. Both were bad because both led to less Price, or an absence of him completely. Soap glanced at his watch, there were still several hours until both of them were off work.
"I'm not going there, mate. You're too pretty for my tastes, pretty and baby-faced. Not my type." Gaz said jokingly, giving Soap a distasteful look.
"And Price would give you one of those knock out punches if you even thought of trying anything, after I punched you first." Soap shot a sarcastic smile at him.
"Hey, hey...if I were to kiss any one of you wankers working here, it'd be Ghost. He's the only one who actually has a sense of humor, and that voice of his is lovely. Roach is a lucky lad."
"Forget Price punching you, if you keep that up, Roach will come over here and knock your arse down into the concrete. Shite, he may look like a nice guy..but looks can be deceiving."
"I don't doubt that," Gaz tugged at the collar of his turtleneck nervously. "I remember last time we were at the pub and that guy was giving Ghost the sweet eyes, never thought I'd see dear, sweet Roach lay such a smack down of words."
Soap chuckled at the memory, random guy sure didn't know who he was fucking with by hitting on Gary Sanderson's man. After he told the drunken guy off, he straddled Ghost in the corner booth and made out with him, until he had to run to the bathroom to throw up. And they supposedly learned their lesson from the last time on Soap's birthday. Sure they did.
"By the way, looked like ol' Price was walking a little wonky today.." Gaz spoke over the coffee mug, with a grin that is classic Gaz, filled with all kinds of dirty implications and intrusive deducting.
"Gaz...don't even fucking.." Soap growled and rolled his eyes so hard it hurt.
"Obvious now what you two were up to last night." The damned smile grew cheekier and cheekier, Soap was close to pouring the coffee over the other man's head.
Soap threw his free hand up in the air. "For fuck's sake, why don't you and Ghost go be insufferable together?!" Soap tried to keep his voice low to not disturb the customers around him, but still kept the edging on seething tone.
"I would, but I don't know where the lovely chap is..." Gaz said, searching around the shop and finding no Simon Riley in his sights, with a shrug he looked back up at Soap. "Anyways, you like your anniversary gift?"
Leave it to Gaz to distract his raging irritation by bring up something reminding him of Price, the only person who could possibly erase the never ending aggravation at this point.
"Aye, sure did. You, uh, helped Price put it together?" Soap asked, quickly refilling a cup on the table opposite of Gaz's, the guy at the table looked at him with one eye squinted, no doubt having overheard their conversation. Soap had lost count how many times he'd received that same expression from a customer today.
"You better believe it, I even helped him pick the thing out. I'm an avid cat man." Gaz said after a long gulp of coffee.
"Gaz...you don't own a cat." Soap said raising his brow.
"But I thought about it good and plenty before!"
"Doesn't sodding count."
"Gaz!" A booming, excited voice shouted from across the shop, startling several customers, and Soap, in the process.
"Simon g'damn Riley!" Gaz shouted back, a huge, obnoxious grin breaking on his face, all of his teeth showing.
They did the same greeting every time, no matter the setting, no matter the time, no matter what. Even if they'd just seen each other yesterday. And they did.
Ghost's eyes snapped to the table as he made his way over to them.
"What the bloody hell is wrong with ya mate?! Coffee and not THE GAZ?" Ghost shouted, outraged and confused by Gaz's choice of beverage for the day.
Typically Gaz ordered the tea that was a blatant nod to him and his well known love for watermelon. The brew was something special Soap put together for the first time he met Gaz, watermelon, hint of mint, and strawberry. Gaz was addicted to the shit, drank it by the gallons, usually, so Soap was a little surprised as well that he didn't order it.
"Must be mental today, but I couldn't tell ya. Needed the extra burst of caffeine I suppose. Price woke me up so bloody early the other morning to help him with Soap's gift." Gaz replied, drinking down the rest of his coffee.
Soap froze, stunned and gave a look to Gaz, telling him to stop talking please. He was not ready to break the news like this, Gaz looked confused, but then realization crossed his features and he nodded at Soap.
"Gift? Oooh do tell, MacTavish." Ghost said, glancing over to Soap.
"Never mind that bollocks, did you catch that special on the military channel last night? Bloody sweet hell those shotguns were lovely. And that Black Label 1911-22? I'd consider marryin' one, M'serious." Gaz said, distracting the other Brit with talk of guns, Soap let out a relieved breath he didn't know he was holding in. Thankfully Gaz wasn't as much of a numpty as Ghost was.
"I can see it now, Gaz and the pistol, a match made in armory heaven." Ghost grinned down at Gaz, his smile nearly identical to his much loved skull balaclava that was absent from his face.
"Did that come on last night? Damn, I missed it." Soap grumbled, he hoped that Price recorded that on the TV so they could revel in the beauty of high impact weapons together, before putting their own..'high impact weapons together' in a much different way.
"Oh, I'm sure you had your hands full." Ghost muttered, doing a suggestive jacking motion with his hand and purposely failing at concealing it.
"And his mouth too, no doubt." Gaz added, the two of them busting out laughing.
Then again...Soap took back his previous thought, Gaz was just as bad as Ghost. The two of them meeting and becoming the best of friends was clearly an accurate and horrifying predication by Price. He backed away from the pair before he committed double homicide.
After several hours of putting up with Ghost's excessive sexual remarks at his expense, Soap needed an escape, today definitely called for a smoke break, for the only art he could imagine sketching up in his journal at the moment were violent images of Ghost being mangled by wild dogs. Earlier in the day, only explicit images of Price pressed down into the couch would serve as his inspiration. Maybe when he got home he'd put those...ideas to paper. Or act them out again, either would be fine.
Soap pushed the creak-free front door of the shop open, shooting a frown at the chiming bells, if only he could persuade Ghost and Roach that those things were utterly pointless and, not to mention, infuriating. He stepped out into the edging on brisk air of the outside, glad that he had his scarf for more...conventional reasons. When he walked over to his typical spot on the wall, he noticed Roach walking back and forth on the dried leaf covered sidewalk, worrying at his bottom lip, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his hoodie and the hood pulled up over his sandy blonde hair. Soap hadn't seen it earlier in the day, but it appeared that Roach had a slight 5 o'clock shadow on his face, something out of place for the regularly grooming young man.
Soap furrowed his brows in concern. "You alright, Roach?"
Roach spun around to face him, looking shocked for a moment, his bottom lip was red from the gnawing on it. "Oh..um, yeah...I mean...no. I don't know." He struggled to get out, Soap could see his hands wriggling about inside his pockets.
"Can't really help with anything if you don't tell me. Unless you don't want to tell me, just let me know and I'll back off." Soap told him with a shrug, walking over to lean on the brick wall.
Roach opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking like a freckled fish, the beginning syllables of several words almost making their way into coherency, his hands flinged out of his pockets and pushed his the hood on his jacket down. Scratching at his barely there prickly facial hair, he began, "It's...Simon is a complete ass sometimes."
"Sometimes? Did you hear him earlier? Telling the entire bloody damned coffee shop about me and Price's...never mind." Soap said, slapping his gloved hand over his forehead deciding it was best to not continue explaining. "What'd he do to upset you, if you don't mind me asking?"
Roach looked grateful to have someone to confide in, his bottled up annoyances of the day came pouring out, "He's bugging me today, no pun intended..., he woke me up by jumping on the bed and singing some remix of 'My Girl'...'My Bug', then with Hellrasier, ya know, feeding him a fucking muffin... And, before opening, when I was in the back prepping some batter for my apple cinnamon muffins, he stuck his unwashed finger in it to taste the batter, twice, which made the whole fucking thing unsanitary, so I had to toss it. Then, after, he said he'd make it up to me, by taking me in the back room and showing me a 'good time'. He knows I'm now behind 3 batches of muffins and 2 batches of bagels. I'm..exhausted." The words flew from Roach's mouth, as he paced around, pulling at his red RSASS and Shine hoodie before he slumped to the concrete sidewalk, running his hands through his short and messy blonde hair.
"Huh, sounds like you're having a rough day, mate." Soap said sympathetically, pulling a cigar from his leather jacket, he was still wearing his apron, making him look a little ridiculous, but he couldn't care less. He patted at the front of his pockets, searching for his lighter. "Damned lighter..how the bloody hell do I always lose it." Soap muttered under his breath.
Roach reached in his hoodie's pocket and pulled out a lighter that most certainly belonged to Ghost, the younger man, to his knowledge, didn't smoke. Roach flipped the clear purple lighter in his hands, "Here." He said shortly, jutting his chin at it and tossing the lighter to Soap.
Soap caught it, nodding a silent thank you to his friend, he cupped the bottom of the cigar with a hand and flicked the lighter, breathing in as the flame lit the cigar. His eyes closed for a moment as he sucked in deeply, and blew out slowly, imaging how Price looked doing it after a long night of sex, the memory was stirring and heated his skin, so he pushed it out of his head, for the moment at least, and let the smell of the smoke fool him into believing that Price was with him.
"Rough day..you got that right..all that other crap on top of..one of Simon's old flings pounding on our door last night. Fuck, do you have a cig?" Roach asked desperately, his eyes wide.
"No..don't use those anymore, Price bloody spoils me with these." Soap said, tapping on the side of the cigar, loose ashes falling to the ground. "Besides, mate, you don't even smoke. Now what were you saying, one of Ghost's old hook ups showed up at home?" He asked, cringing internally, no way that could have ended well.
"Yeah! Guy was fucking shit-faced, practically threw himself at Simon, I nearly threw him onto a passing car for that. Must have shown up for a booty-call, I don't know.." Roach stuttered, crossing and uncrossing his arms over his chest.
"What did Ghost do?"
"He told him, 'sod off, I'm unavailable..very much so', then he kissed me and slammed the door in the guy's face." Roach said blankly. "Call me crazy, but I find it hard to be turned on after one of your boyfriend's old friends with benefits shows up." He added flippantly, his hands waving in the air.
"I'm sorry that happened..can't imagine how that must've felt.." Soap said sympathetically, the cigar hanging at his side.
"It sucked really bad and it made me pissed, that's how it felt." Roach snapped, rubbing the back of his neck and averting his gaze, not really directing his outburst of irritation at Soap.
"Everything can't always be perfect mate." Soap offered with a roll of his shoulders.
"I know that...and I don't expect it to be. It's a a relationship, not fairy tale." Roach muttered.
"And despite his past and all of his general..numpty-arse-ness, you still think he's the most amazing guy ever right?"
"Of course I do." Roach blurted out, he began picking at his fingers, and cracking his knuckles.
"What's the real problem, then?" Soap asked, sensing there was more bothering Roach than he led on.
"I — it's stupid." Roach started, rubbing at the back of his neck with a hand, "But, sometimes I worry he'll get bored of me, miss his old life..." He flicked a pebble on the concrete, watching as it reached the street with a spin. "It's not fair for me to hold that against him though, it's his past, he can't change it now..and it's his past that made him the guy I love... Fuck, man. I hate that it gets to me so much sometimes." Roach grumbled, scratching the top of his head, Soap could see traces of flour on the under parts of the younger man's forearms.
Soap stared down at him, taking care to control his reaction, even if the words did made him a little shocked. Taking a long drag from the cigar and blowing out, he squinted at Roach. "Mate, Ghost is bloody crazy for you. He doesn't miss his old life, believe me. He's still living it, doing all the same shite as before, just in a different way. Instead of some random guy, it's with the one person that he loves, the only one he's ever loved. You know he loves you Roach, more than anyone ever think a guy like him is capable of. That's not gonna change, you have nothing to worry about." Soap told him softly.
"I guess you're right."
"Damn right I am. Look, Roach..Ghost may have told you stories about his life before, the things he's done, but...I was there, I saw how he was, when it came to love he was cold, unfeeling, but then you came along with your 'freckles, American-ness, funny, sweet, gorgeous, greenest eyes he's ever seen in his life', hey that's quoting him almost directly, by the way." Soap said with a chuckle at the bewildered look on Roach's face. "What I'm getting at is, you changed him, ah, fuck changing sounds bad because he's still himself..." Soap paused and puffed at his cigar for a moment, thinking of the right words. "You just made..him..believe again." Soap continued, his words slowed at the ending, thoughts clicked into place as he realized the similarities of Ghost and Roach's relationship to his and Price's.
Not too long ago, Price said that Soap helped him believe again, in love, just as Roach did for Ghost. The thought made a small smile tug on his lips. Ghost and Price had their own reasons and excuses as to why love wasn't for them or wasn't worth the risk or effort, but they found a reason, a person worth the uncertainty, worth diving headfirst into unknown waters. That's all you needed, the one person who gave you the strength to not be afraid. Ghost was made to believe in love for the first time and Price had lost hope to find it again...but did when he was least expecting it.
Soap wasn't sure how long they stood in silence there outside the shop, but it was long enough for him to nearly finish his cigar, but not long enough for the soft expression on Roach's face to disappear, Soap couldn't decipher it, it looked like a million scenarios were running through the younger man's head, a million emotions being processed. But he looked..happy, content, and fuck...he was goddamn glowing too, just like Ghost once said he looked when he first fell for Price.
Roach cleared his throat, his face changed, a determined look in place now, he jaw set in a defined way, like he worked something out in his head. "I don't know how to thank you, dude...you..helped me a lot. I needed to hear all that. What would I do without you here to talk me through this shit, man?" Roach said with a half grin, fully shown in his eyes. He jumped up from the concrete and gave Soap a quick friendly hug, he pulled away and stepped back.
The Scotsman laughed throatily and patted Roach on the shoulder. "No problem, mate, anytime you need a pep talk, I'm here." Soap assured him, feeling on the front of his own coat, the velvet box with the key to his and Price's home, he held his palm there for a moment, considering if now was the right time to tell him that he was moving out.
Roach broke his train of thought. "Never got to ask! How was your anniversary? Get any gifts?" He asked. Roach certainly looked like his usual self, bright and happy, friendly and beaming like the bloody sun, if Ghost was here right now he'd be swooning, then would probably grab his ass and throw him over his shoulder...defile the back room of the shop yet again.
Soap cleared his throat and moved his hand away from the shape of the box under his coat, and crossed his arms. "Uh, I, yeah, Price made me dinner...my gift to him was not help cook anything and do some prep work. We made this promise in the beginning, if we're gonna celebrate monthly anniversaries, then no gifts. Not until a monumental anniversary, I guess." Soap lied easily enough, feeling a little guilty about it.
"Isn't your sixth month anniversary a little bit of a big deal, dude?"
"Aye, but..being with him is enough. That's the only thing I want. Not a bloody gift." Soap stated simply, though the words held much more than a one dimension confession. A warm smile spread over his features thinking back to Price beaming over at him in his - their house, brimming with emotion and love, the look on his face reserved for him, only him.
"Damn, you are cheesy, aren't you?"
"You better believe it, I'm as cheesy as a goddamn Scottish quesadilla." Soap gave him a wide grin, patting at his heart.
Roach practically slapped his hand on his forhead. "That made no sense. At all." Roach said, choking back a laugh.
Soap had to agree, and chuckled, shaking his head. "Breaks over, Roach, let's go."
"It's lunch, dude."
"What I meant to say was, smoke/emotional break-through break is over, Roach, lunch break is now the priority, so let's bloody go."
Good thing Price planned ahead and packed a sufficient amount of leftovers from last night's dinner for lunch the next day, for the moment he broke out the plastic container from the fridge Ghost manifested himself directly behind him, living up to the name, and was sniffing...loudly. He could see Roach in the corner of his eyes too. The two of them like a pack of hungry lions, ready to pounce on his lunch from his and Price's anniversary dinner.
"Yeah, yeah don't worry, there's enough for the lot of ya, bloody scavengers." Soap mumbled, getting two more plates and shoving them into Ghost's hands.
"Bless Price's bloody soul, if he were here right now, I'd kiss 'em." Ghost said, swishing his hand up to waft the aroma of the pasta to his nose.
"You know...you say that often enough where I think I should be worried.." Soap said, eyeing him.
"Tell me about it.." Roach said under his breath beside him, neatly sticking a bite of food in his mouth, unlike Ghost, who was shoveling it in as if he hadn't eaten a meal in months, pieces sticking to the side of his mouth.
"Oi, Lovebug, you know my heart belongs to you, forever and always.." Ghost professed lovingly, his hand was held over the center of his chest, and it would have been very romantic and sweet if it wasn't for the food still compacted in his mouth, practically spilling out on the sides of it.
Soap bit back the distaste that arose at seeing the gross display, Roach, however, was used to it, and wasn't even slightly bothered by his boyfriend's terrible table manners. Anytime he'd see a smear of sauce on the side of Ghost's mouth, he'd stick his thumb out and wipe it away, licking it clean off his thumb and every time, Ghost would give Roach the lewdest expression ever, like this meal was their form of foreplay. Goddamn. This is why they never ate at the table together. But wait, this meal technically was a form of foreplay, Soap clearly remembered last night and how eating it led right into...fucking incredible sex. He nearly choked on a piece of chicken when he thought of the loud cry he drew out of Price last night, but Ghost and Roach were too caught up in each other's eyes to notice.
After they ate, Soap somehow managing to keep his food down with their...unique style of eating and his own dirty flashbacks to last night and a particularly amazing morning shower, he excused himself and told his friends that he'd clean up the shop to get ready for re-opening, knowing that they needed some time alone to talk things over.
He gave them 15 minutes, but they needed to reopen, so he walked back into the back room, peeking in. He saw Ghost with his arms around Roach, and Roach's hands on his face, the two of them speaking in whispers to each other, nuzzling their noses together. Soap couldn't help but smile, they were alright, they worked it out. Actually, that was an understatement, they were bloody radiant, eyes fixed on each other as Roach brushed his fingers over Ghost's jaw, leaning up on his toes to kiss his boyfriend, it starts soft, comforting, and sweet, like Roach sealed his very self into it, but it turns raunchier fast, hands moving down to asses, and that's when Soap backed away from the doorway, walking back into the main room and glanced over to his and Price's table, their table, the whole time his thoughts were locked in on Price, on sitting on the couch, falling into his arms, into his smile, into him. The time on his watch read 1:41.