Drabbles: Call Of Duty- New Years Kiss
The mission you guys are all running has been cutting deeper and deeper into your holiday time. Price had said it wouldn't take more than a few days, which was days ago. Ghost watched as your cheerful, happy-go-lucky attitude was dwindling every day. Despite everything the lot of you had seen, You were always so damn cheerful at first that it rubbed Ghost the wrong way. Made him feel as if you didn't take the job seriously, but throughout watching you out in the field and while in training, he had seen how your cheerful nature had and was currently keeping the entire 141 together. Your cheerful nature kept Soap on his toes, keeping him sharp. Price always loved having a new little duckling under his wing, and Gaz adored you in a way only a sibling could. Still, Ghost is rough around the edges and has a sizable study wall built of strong hate and anger hiding him from your bag of tricks, but that was until you practically climbed over said wall and right into his burning heart.
So here Simon sits, watching as the glee of the New Year runs dry from your face. As the harsh lines become etched into your beautiful face. He tries hard at first to not be bothered, but the air has changed around the both of you in the past year. Simon has gone from not understanding you to falling for you, and now all he wants to do is protect you from the ache that is falling in the night air around you. Simon walked into where you were standing at attention, watching the open field ahead of you. Simon walked with stealth and was so smooth with his feet that you didn't even notice him walk behind you until his heavy breath blew down onto your shoulder. "Simon." You whispered into the silence; he hummed and dropped his rifle to the side, wrapping his arms around Y/n wasit. "What are you doing?" You ask as you feel Simons's arms around your waist. "You aren't so good at concealing your emotions." Simons tells you as he starts to sway both of you. You shrug your shoulder, bobbing Simon's head that lulls on your shoulder. "I don't know what you're talkin' about Si." You whisper into the cold air. He chuckles deep in his chest, "Hmm, I think you know what I'm talking about."
He spins you in his arms to the point where your hands are resting on his broad chest, and all the attention to the field in front of you is gone. All the air in your chest is gone as you stare up at the tall man in front of you. Simon's mask is off, "I know you're upset. So less cheerful and annoyin'," He says to egg you on as you wack him on his chest and smile at the tease. "I'm just sayin' I know you're upset that it's almost the new year as we aren't back from this mission, but how about I give you something that will make up for it?" Simons asks as your brows furrow together, so Simons presses a gloved thumb into your face to move the hard lines away. "What are you thinkin'?" You ask him, your voice small in the quiet air between you. "Just close your eyes, would ya." Simon huffs out, and as you begrudlingly shut your eyes, you move your hands from his chest to his arms. You feel the slight shift in his stance as he leans down to meet your lips lightly. The chap from the cold wind, they warm up immediate when Simons's tongue runs over the edges of your lips begging for entrance. Your lips meld together, and your tongues dance momentarily before Simon pulls away. Your eyes open wide and quickly, "Was that supposed to improve everything?" You tease; Simon hums like he knows you're already dying for another kiss like that.
You thought you were so clever. You felt that he hadn't caught you watching him. Eyeing him up and down. He's a damn god standing in front of you; you wonder if you're the only one that watches his every step. How could nobody else be so enamored by the man that Köing is? He's so tall that you barely ever have a normal conversation with him. The German accent is so thick on his tongue that half of the time, you ask him to repeat it because you can't understand it, and the other half, you wanna hear the accent once more. The shyness of all of that man has you even more intrigued.
Köing has been watching you. He's been able to feel you stare at him since you arrived. He's so aware of you, from when you're entering a room to when you're about to talk over the coms. He's so intuned to you and aware that you don't know about that fact. He isn't sure how he got invited to the party with the 141 or that you would also be joining the said party, but he notices you almost immediately when you come in with a sparkly black mini dress. Your pudgy thighs push the material out. It hugs all your curves the right way, and everyone else sees it. Soap is the first one to gravitate towards you. His arms wrap around your neck and drag you closer to his side. Something in Köing comes alive in the worst sort of way. It's the anger he feels when he's out on a mission, the black rage he feels when he's being the brute he is. Sitting next to him, Simon notices how his knuckles go white with anger. "Köing, what's wrong? Someone else touching what's yours?" Simons is egging him on, but Köing breaths in and lets it go as he turns his head and turns back to his drink.
It's not til hours later that the clock is inching closer to the big New York ball drop. When Köing feels it again, the eyes on him drag up and down his frame. They linger, and they move with ease until they reach his eye, and it's Y/n across the way, in the middle of a half conversation with Laswell, and her cheeks go red with embarrassment, and she's averting her eyes. Pride swells in Köing's chest, and he takes the rest of the night to gawk at her with no embarrassment when he gets caught by all the 141. Simons is the first one to speak up. "Why don't you just go over there, Köing." He offers the bigger man. "I'm waiting." Köing answers. Soap looks over at Simon, and for a moment, there's silence.
Then Köing moves on his feet, and he's gone. "Finally." Soap and Simon say in unison. "Köing?" Y/n says quietly as she keeps her eyes on the TV screen. People are starting to count around them, and the ball on the TV is starting to sparkle. "You done gawkin'?" Köing asks her under his breath, so husky that it sends a shiver down her spine. She mumbles a yes and looks for the first time from the TV to him. He's so tall next to her. "Well, how about I give you what you've been missin' out on, ya princess?" The count is silent around the two of you as his large hand grips your chin and jaw, pulling you up to meet his lips, and then finally, you fall slack against Köings hold, but your lips are perfect against each other. "So damn perfect, Liebling." You melt even further into his hold as people around you clap and holler at the start of a new year.
Seven minutes in heaven was what the New Year party had turned into with the 141. The 141 was filled with adults playing a game that you only ever play while you're in college and a sleepover. You rolled your eyes but still sat down on the floor. An empty beer bottle sitting in the center of the relatively large circle. The circle comprises all the members of the 141 and a few others, like Laswell, who's been eyeing up the Captain since she got a second vodka in her hand. Ghost is the first to speak up about the idiotic game we are about to play. "Are we really about to play this damn game?" He asks. Price just shrugs his shoulders and goes back to look at Laswell. Soap is the only one excited about the game ahead of us.
"Oh, come on, Ghost, get into the spirits; you can see Y/n is totally into it." He says, taking his eyes from Ghost to you. He winks and then returns his attention to the bottle in the center of the floor. "Well, gets it fuckin' over with." Ghost says with a grumble. The bottle spins around the floor, and the brown glass spins and spins before landing on someone in the circle. Köing lands first, and instead of getting in the closet, it's a drink for both Ghost and Köing. The spinning of the bottle goes round and round until it lands back on Soap.
Soap looks up and eyes the people around the circle. Finally, his eyes land on you. Sparkling with a drunken state that he is in. He's spinning the bottle with one final wink, and silence claims the room. When it does finally stop, it lands on you, and everything feels as if it's stopped. "Bonnie, you don't have to." He says sincerely, but you're already getting up and chugging the rest of your beer before you walk towards the small closet space, waiting for the surprised man to follow behind you. By the time you've got your hand on the handle, Soap is right behind you. When you shut the door, the closet is dark, and the both of you try to get comfortable in the small space. It's just breathing between the both of you for a moment before you hear the Captain shout from outside, "It's awful quiet in there, kids." You can hear the roll of Soap's eyes. More silence consumes you both before Soap is talking again. "You look beautiful tonight, lass," Soap says quietly.
You mutter a small 'thank you' back to him, and then someone shouts that you've got five minutes left. Soap shifts, coming closer into your personal space, but you don't seem to mind when you feel his hands grip your hips, pulling you closer to his larger frame. "Can I ask you something?" He asks, "I mean, you already did." You answer, looking right at his bright blue eyes. He chuckles but continues on. "Can I kiss you, lass?" His hands move to rub sweet circles into your hip bone. You sigh heavily and then nod your head. His lips are on yours in a matter of seconds. He's gentle with you, caressing your sides as his lips press into yours quickly. His hand moves from your hips to the back of your neck, and he's pulling you even closer to his. Neither of you wants to let go of the other until there's an annoying knocking from the other side of the door. "What are you doing eating Y/n's face off?" Ghost asks through the door. "I've always wanted to do that, just so you know," Soap says, looking at you with such hope and promise; he waits for your answer. "Good, because I wanted that too." He grins and opens the door, "Respectfully fuck off, LT. I've got some time to make up for." Your cheeks go red with embarrassment, but Soap still holds your hand.
As you walk towards the Captain's office, the new year is being rung in. Price had said he would be joining the small get-together you had been planning since Christmas was over. However, he still hadn't managed to get all the paperwork done, so he sat in his small office with a pile of paperwork to get done. You're just as headstrong as he is, so when he hears the soft knocking on his door, he knows it's you. "Come in." He shouts, and when he sees you come walking in with a plate of food and a drink in a red solo cup, the frustration leaves his body, and a smile grows on his tired face. "Hey, sweets." price says as you come in and shut the door behind you. "You're working still?" You ask him, and he nods sadly, looking back at the paperwork for the billionth time.
He can see you moving around the room, setting the food and drink on the small coffee table before moving over to the side of the desk, waiting to be let in his lap. He swings himself in the chair and makes room for you. You quickly climb into his lap, your arms wrapping around his neck. Price's thick arms around your waist pull you closer to him. "You smell good, baby." He says, breathing you once more before pressing his forehead against yours. "Thank you handsome." The two of you sit together like this for a long moment. Paused in time beside the shouting and music played outside the office door. "Did the party go good?" He asks you, and you hum, "I only wish you could have been there; I've never seen Ghost so excited about the new year." You tell him Price suspects he knows why. "That's cause Soap is feelin' better, sweets."
You think for a moment and agree with him, and again, the silence takes over the room. Large hand rubbing sweet tight circles into your spine. "Have you eaten yet?" You ask him, but you already know the answer. "I've been doin' this bloody paperwork." He answers with a huff, "Well, let's get you some food then." You say, trying to get out of his hold. "Can you just stay here for a moment longer?" He pleads with you. Foreheads pressed together, "You know I've heard that kissing someone on New Year gives you good luck for the rest of the year." Price says, chuckling at his own words. "Is that true?" You question it. He hums and licks his lips.
"Then let's give each other some good luck." You tell him, your noses press each other as your lips graze. His mouth tastes of whiskey and a cigar. Your mouth tastes heaven, champagne, and whatever you brought on that plate. Price pulls away, "You taste so good, like good luck, baby." He tells you; rolling your eyes, you press another chaste kiss to his lips before you climb out of his lap and over to the coffee table to grab the food. "Please eat, handsome, and when you're done, come and find me." You say, and with that, you're gone and leaving Price wanting for more of you and your taste.
