141 Kissing Booth
Ghost was pissed off.
It was February and to improve morale on base, General Shephard decided to make a canival with each division having to make a booth or activity. Which was fine. What wasn’t fine was that all the boys thought it would be fun to put their Sgt. through an almost initation hazing in the form of choosing to do a Kissing Booth.
Soap of course laughed it off and agreed, unaware of the inner turmoil his Lt. was going through. Ghost knew logically that it was a good idea. They would definitely get a shit ton of people to visit their booth and win the friendly competition because who wouldn’t want to kiss the hot Scotsman.
Ghost needed a stiff drink.
The day of their carnival, men and women from all of the other taskforces lined up to get a piece of his Sgt.
Ghost needed a lot of drinks.
Now, he hadn’t always liked Johnny, but a person who builds walls as a coping mechanism should never meet a demolitions expert. A few missions later and Johnny held Simon’s heart in his posession without even knowing, and the Monster of 141 was slowly acclimated to be softer. It wasn’t necessarily appropriate, but Price always supported Ghost to reconnect with Simon.
Gaz walked up to stand next to his Lt. “You okay, sir?” He gives Ghost a concerned side eye. “You’re giving off a lot of scary vibes.”
Ghost huffed. “‘m fine. You?”
“Eh… to be honest with you sir, I don’t like the idea of the Kissing Booth. Wish we went with one of the dunk tanks instead.”
Ghost tilted his head in mild surprise.
Gaz shrunk a little under Ghost’s gaze. “I-I just don’t l-like the idea of Ki-Kissing Booths. I’ve had a bunch of bad experiences with them.”
Ghost’s worries rose exponentionally.
“Ah! N-Not that anything w-will happen!”
“Gaz is right.” Price said calmly. “No one will take too many liberties with Soap, and even if they do, he can take care of himself.”
That settled the small piece of Simon that wanted only soft and happy things for Soap. Ghost had trained the Sgt. to be formidable at the behest of his softer side’s concern.
The dicotomy in Simon “Ghost” Riley was typical dissacciation among his many other issues from everything he had experienced, so when he saw Graves step up to the Kissing Booth and Soap looking uncomfortable. Well, Gaz and Price got a laugh at least.
Graves got chucked through a tree that didn’t crush him through sheer luck that the Monster of 141 had him on top of the downed tree.
Ghost huffed a little from the exertion. “How copy, Johnny?” No one was prepared for how soft Ghost sounded.
“Ah, Lt.” Soap grinned at him as if he didn’t just fell a tree by using a person. “Pleasant of ya ta stop by! Was waitin’ fer mah kiss!”
Terror was an understatement for those who watched Ghost put a man through a fucking tree. It wasn’t even that the tree was rotted on the inside either! Those who were in line for the 141 Kissing Booth expeditiously found another booth to visit, and those who had gotten a kiss from the Scottsman feared for their lives.
Ghost let out a chuff like noise. “Then, who am I to keep ya waitin’.”
Simon stepped forward, pulling his mask up, to connect his and Johnny’s mouths in a chaste kiss. Johnny was surprised by how gentle it was and how soft Simon’s lips were. He knew he was kissing Simon from the gentleness. He definitely also wanted to feel Ghost’s claiming kiss.
The Scottsman flushed happily. He loved his Lt. Every part of him without exception.