Soap was aware of how much work is on Ghost’s shoulders, the man never gets a break. If he is not commanding a mission on which soldiers have to depend on his decisions, death being a repercussion of even the smallest mistake he could make. Then, he has to put up with recruits at training which is usually a shit show of inexperienced firearm usage and Ghost’s screaming and cursing. On top of that, he had a shit ton of paper works.
Since Soap figured out that he can actually help him with that, he had been doing it more frequently. Often staying late in Ghost’s room to fill out things he needed help with. Ghost never asked for his help, and neither did he say thank you. But Soap knew that he appreciated the help and maybe even his company because halfway through the work Ghost would ask if Johnny wants him to make coffee and they were also spending time together after they were done. There was always a plate of cookies on the desk for Soap to munch on- the cookies were there only when he was around.
Soap loved those cookies, but whenever he asked what brand they were the other men would say that he bought them in the canteen. Which had to be total bullshit since the ones sold there tasted of nothing but cardboard. Soap was certain that Ghost was straight up gatekeeping the brand- which was hilarious to him. But that day was the day he will finally get the brand's name.
“It seems we ur done fur today, Lt.” Soap exclaimed, putting the last document into a file and then stretching his hands above his head. He looked at the empty plate, only crumbs left after he devoured the cookies. “So… the cookies-”
“I told you I got them in the canteen. You sound like a broken record” Ghost cut in.
“No, na ye didn’t ye liar! Those are one of the best food I had and believe me I checked th’ canteen. They have only two brands! Both taste stale!” Ghost just crossed his arms “Ghost with all due respect ye can’t keep this one thing a secret. We speak aboot cookies, nae nuclear codes.”
“Biscuits, not cookies.”
“Oh, go 'n' bile yer heid!” They sat in silence for a second, then Soap eyed the trash bin. “I will go thro’ yer trash to find the packaging.”
“No, you won’t, Soap”
The sergeant stood up.
“Sergeant…” Ghost warned, but Soap really enjoyed those biscuits. He bend over the bin, ready to inspect it. “Soap, don’t.”
“Ye won’t stop me, I just have to make sure there isn’t anything I don’t wanna stick mah hand in.”
“God give me strength.” Ghost whispered to himself. “You won’t find anything, there is no box, Johnny.” He sounded exasperated.
“Did ye pumpin' burned it or whit?”
“Wha- of course not! I am not you, you pyromaniac.”
“Then- No way!” Soap looked at him with big eyes. Ghost groaned already knowing what was coming. “Ye baked them!?”
“What if? Do you want to comment on it?” Ghost remembered well how everyone usually reacted to this information. They would say it was not a thing for men like him, for men at all. His previous team would burst out laughing if he told them. Of course, he had more faith in 141, in Johnny but his father's words stuck to him like glue. ‘Kitchen is a woman’s place, no wonder you are such a brat. You can’t even be a proper man.’ He would say whenever young Simon would be helping his mother with baking.
Ghost knew it was not true, of course, he did. But words like that stuck, especially when heard at a young age. Especially when followed by a ‘punishment’.
Ghost didn’t notice when Soap sat again in his chair.
“Oh, ye bet I am going to comment on it. You are keeping those skills from us when all of us could be eating those delights!” Soap was smiling brightly at Ghost, simply happy to get to know something new about his friend. “You make amazing cookies- sorry. Biscuits.” The Scot mocked him and punched his shoulder playfully.
And how could he think that would get any other reaction from Johnny? Ghost blushed under the mask, not ready for the compliment.
“When do ye bake them? How? Where?”
Ghost fidgeted with the aglet of his hoodie’s strings. “When I don’t get a full night of sleep- which is often. I snuck into the kitchen, nobody will stop me past midnight. I keep the ingredients here so nobody takes them.” He explained.
“Huh.” Soap chuckled. “No one in the right mind takes things from your shelf.”
“Yeah, but custard powder would look weird, wouldn’t it? Besides you literally take my milk every morning.”
Soap smirked. “I am not in the right mind.”
Ghost’s eyes wrinkled in a smile and he shook his head. “Just… don’t go gossiping about it,”
“Will you be making me more?” He raised his eyebrows.
Ghost hummed agreeing.
“We’ve got ourselves a deal, sir.” The sergeant pretended to zip his mouth. “I will have to steal th’ recipe from ye one day and sell it to mah ma’”
Ghost looked at the clock- it was already late. Could they?
“I can teach you now.” He proposed. “If you want.”
Soap was already standing. “Stupid question.”
It was so nice to see someone excited about something he likes. Soap often shares about his hobbies and he is happy to listen. He himself is rather reserved about his interests, so opening up and seeing someone so excited about it? If Ghost was someone else he would hug the Scot.
***
“So what are we making chef?” Soap clapped his hands, leaning on the counter while Ghost was preparing some bowls. Ghost looked at what they had.
“I am thinking bourbon biscuits.” Soap looked like he wanted to say something. “And no, there is no alcohol in them Johnny.”
“Pity.”
“Go wash your hand, we will make the dough first.” After they did that Soap grabbed his phone and put on some quiet chill music, he didn’t want to push their luck.
Ghost instructed Soap which dry ingredients he should be mixing first while Soap swayed side to side to the music, listening. Soap did exactly as Ghost told him, carefully measuring like he was building a bomb. Ghost said to add whole flour which would be alright if he didn’t dump it all at once in the sieve the lieutenant. A cloud of white powder covered them both.
Ghost took a deep breath and exhaled some of the powder. He could hear Soap trying to hold his laughter. He turned to scold him, but he was met with flour being blown straight at his balaclava. Soap was straight-up cackling at this point.
“Now ye are a real ghost!” He said between wheezing.
Ghost took some flour from the counter and messed Soap’s mohawk with it.
“Oi!”
They messed with each other like that for a while, when Ghost actually looked around.
“Ok, stop. Price will kill us when he walks in here tomorrow.”
Soap had to have the last word. He grabbed the base of Ghost’s mask. Ghost panicked a little- ready to push Soap away. Luckily he only pulled at it a little to suddenly let it- causing the flour to lift from it.
“We will clean up later, Lt.” He came back to swaying his hips.
Ghost let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Soap bumped their hips together, prompting Ghost to relax and sway with him while they continued.
Ghost had to bite his cheeks to not smile like an idiot.
And for Soap the biscuits were no longer the prize, seeing Simon all domestic and relaxed while speaking about all types of flour and which one is his favourite? That was priceless.
***
Task Force 141 drank their morning drink of choice with the addition of perfectly baked biscuits.
I am really happy with this one <3 I am sorry for the late update but I have less and less time. I love reading your comments and thoughts on the fic <3
Also, I thought I will mention that I have a Ko-Fi now if someone feels like buying me some coffee. I am saving for university!
Ghoap genuinely makes me sick. It makes me so sick if I think about them too hard. I can feel my veins, I can feel my bones moving against my skin, I can smell the air I breath, I feel my clothes rub against me or the lack of clothes on my arms, I can feel my hairs against my neck, I can feel my eyelids slid against my eyeballs, I can feel my jaw, I can feel the fact my teeth are just the exposed bit of my skull, I can sense the thought to work my fingers to type this.
I love ghoap so much the make me wanna hurl and drastically change my life sigh (NOT IN A MILITARY WAY)
