As respected, feared, and incredibly skilled as Ghost is, at the end of the day, he's still just a Lieutenant whose fate is in the hands of higher-ups that decide where to ship him off to at a moment's notice. And although Price attempted to push back against their newest decision to keep Ghost on the taskforce, unfortunately there are some things that are even out of his control.
And so someone decided that Ghost – chosen for his relevant expertise and strategic leadership - was needed elsewhere. He was temporarily transferred to another team to lead an undercover mission with no clearly anticipated end.
It was hard on Ghost and Soap.
Only on a rare occasion did Soap get to speak with Ghost via a brief and sometimes garbled phone call. He itched with unease at the thought of anyone but the 141 watching Ghost's back. His lacking presence was always heavily felt. Their team didn’t feel whole, and his bed felt too empty.
Soap took it day by day, not quite sure exactly his emotions would have in store for him that day. Some days he was jittery with worry and anxiety. Other days he was palpably angry and irritable. At times he was incredibly sad and lonely. And once in a while, he felt normal, like his regular self had won out and given him a brief reprieve in his grief.
Although as the weeks crept by, Soap found himself feeling angry more often than not. He was easily frustrated and pissed off at times. He lacked patience and was annoyed by the smallest things around him.
And that was where he found himself today, having just finished chewing out a bunch of recruits for being annoying dickheads. At his explosion, their shocked faces scampered away. He barely had time to fume to himself for a second before another voice spoke up from behind him.
"Sergeant," it announced calmly. "There's someone here to speak with you."
Soap didn't even bother turning around. He planted his hands on his hips and let out an exasperated sigh into the ceiling.
"Steamin' Jesus!” he snapped. “What is it now?"
But the next voice caught him by surprise.
Soap's heart leapt into his throat, and he instantly whipped around. Surprise froze on his face as he stared at Ghost standing in the doorway, bag slung lazily over one shoulder. The warmth of his brown eyes softly burrowed into Soap.
And after a moment of disbelief, Soap rushed forward. Ghost slipped his bag off his shoulder at the last second just as Soap practically jumped into his arms.
He pressed himself into Ghost and balled his fists into his shirt. Ghost let out a shuddering breath as he melted into the embrace, immediately wrapping his arms around Soap's waist.
They desperately gripped one another, reveling in the feel of warm skin, rising chests, and beating hearts. And once Soap was in Ghost's arms again, he almost broke, the feeling of having had to remain strong this whole time coming crumbling down, drowning him in the realization of just how fucking much he had missed Ghost.
After they came down from their initial high of relief, they broke away from each other just slightly enough to see each other's face. Soap could tell Ghost was smiling by the way his eyes happily crinkled up.
Soap took Ghost's hand and quickly dragged them back to their quarters. As soon as the door was closed, Ghost threw off his mask and they pounced on each other. They desperately kissed as they stumbled towards the bed, desire interrupted by bubbling laughter as both of them equally excited to make up for lost time.
And when they were done - Soap's months of tension thoroughly relieved and an overwhelming sense of elation at having Ghost in his arms again - he smiled tenderly. They laid in bed with their limbs tangled, their bare chests together, and their hands lazily trailing every inch of skin.
Soap cupped the side of Ghost's face who greedily leaned into the touch.
