ok we joke a lot about gaz's and soap's tight knuckled horny pining, but what if it's price and ghost commiserating in their shared desire for their unattainable sergeants? and they're pervy about it, texting privately and vaguely about the things they want to do to their sergeants. sharing discreet pictures even.
price sends ghost a blurry picture of a young man in tight, tiny shorts, bending over in the gym, with a text that reads, "he's trying to give me a heart attack". ghost only knows it's gaz by context. and bc he's seen him in those shorts before.
he sends equally inappropriate pics of soap. he texts price with a, "nearly lost my cool", accompanied by a faceless pic of soap wearing a soaking wet, white shirt.
it escalates into them sending pictures of each other's boys, as a helpful treat. "saw your boy this morning," ghost texts one day, with a picture of gaz standing in the mess hall, wearing an oversized jumper. he's smiling off to the side, looking sleepy and soft.
price's heart skips a beat like he's a fucking teenager with a crush. the things he'd do to that lad if he could... but then he pauses. something about ghost sending him this pisses him off. he looks at the picture again. this is a little too personal. why did ghost snap that picture, specifically? he grinds his teeth, thump hovering over his screen.
this game he and ghost play has always been strictly impersonal. no faces, no identifiable marks. and now ghost has a picture of gaz looking like that on his phone. how many other pictures like does he have saved? does he look at them after he's sent them to price? it's a fruitless thing to be worked up about. that knowledge only pisses him off further.
next time he sees soap, price tells him, "hey, c'mere a second." he urges the sergeant into his office, tells him a bullshit story about losing a pen between the wall and the sofa. asks if soap can't get it for him (his back aches and all). soap huffs a laugh, but shoots him a playful salute before kneeling on the cushions and bending over the back of the sofa to retrieve the pen. price takes his chance and snaps a picture, nearly laughing out loud at how stupid this is.
he thanks soap for his service, dismissing him, and immediately shoots the picture to ghost. "saw your boy bending over my sofa this evening," he types and hits send.
price sits back in his chair, satisfied knowing he's infected ghost with the same infuriating fire now burning in his own veins.
annaxmalina
dededos
stormborns
