Spirit || Ghost x Transmac reader

4

(Third person perspective)
1075 Words
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"What are you doing here?" Ghost demanded, his voice low and angry, his arms crossed.

Spirit looked up in surprise, clearly taken aback by Ghost's sudden appearance.
Spirit quickly covers his chest, immense panic settling in.

"What-" Spirit stammered, mentally slapping himself in the face for stuttering.
"I didn't realise this room was taken. I thought it was empty." he excused.

"Well, it's not," Ghost growled.
"This is my space, so don't get in my way"

'what an asshole' Spirit thought, rolling his eyes.

Spirit lowered the covering he hid over his chest, he had done it in reflex although nothing was there other than barely visible scars, hidden by his pecs.

He could feel Ghosts eyes on him.
He got goosebumps.

He slipped his shirt on, and buttoned up his pants;
"The other rooms are taken" he says, earning a sound of disproval from the masked man, followed by click of the door closing.

Spirit let out an exhale of breath he wasn't aware he was holding.

He felt the adrenaline begin to hit him as his legs wobbled and his knees buckled, causing him to sit down on the ledge of the bed with his leg bouncing. Attempting to ease how tense he was.

Spirit glanced nervously at the door as he fidgeted with a small bracelet.

He had been lucky so far, managing to keep his scars hidden from the rest of his unit. But he knew it was only a matter of time before someone noticed.

He had always known that joining the military as a trans man was a risky move, but he had been determined to be true to himself.

There was no other choice, although for being with the squad for only a few hours, it felt like years that they've known each-other and they were family to him, and he wasn't willing to let that go.

A shadow fell across the doorway, and he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. He was trapped.

Panic flooded through his body as the footsteps grew louder.

He closed his eyes, and turned his head away, mentally bracing himself for the worst. But to his surprise, the footsteps passed by without incident.

His heart was pounding in his chest.

"Training's at 20:00 sharp, behind base."

And at that, Ghost left the room and Spirit with his thoughts.

He knew he couldn't let his guard down, though. He would have to be more careful in the future, or risk being discovered and dishonorably discharged.

Spirit looked at the alarm clock that rested on the bedside table, it reading '13:28' pm.
It gave him a few hours before training so he decided to explore the rest of the base.

He unpacked a small duffle bag that was folded in his backpack, placing in a towel and a change of clothes within, alongside fingerless gloves and other accessories.

He slipped out of his room and made his way down the hallway, passing the other rooms and once downstairs, giving a nod and wave to Soap and Gaz who were in the middle of play fighting.

Gaz looked in Spirits direction.
"Oh hey Spirit!" He waved.

That short distraction was enough for Soap to lunge at him, both of their figures disappearing behind a couch followed by an "Ow".

A small chuckle escaped his lips as the tension in his body left, getting accustomed to the brotherly atmosphere that played in the living room before him.

Once Spirit had reached the hallway that followed the bottom of the stairs, he opened the oak door that had a slight creak, welcoming a soft breeze of cold air with wooden steps going down.

With the bag in hand, he moved it in-front of him, his left hand reaching back to reach for the door knob, closing the door.
He made his way inside, taking a deep breath as he stepped onto the gleaming hardwood floor.

It was an organized layout considering how much space was available.

The first thing that caught his eye was the row of treadmills lined up along the far wall. Each one had a small screen displaying the speed, distance, and time of the user's workout.

Across from them was a rack of dumbbells, ranging in weight from five to over a hundred fifty pounds. In the center of the room stood a weight bench, surrounded by a variety of barbells and plates. Towards the back of the room, there was a boxing ring, complete with gloves and pads hanging on the ropes.

Overall, the basement gym was well-equipped.

After a few minutes of warmups and stretching, Spirit grabbed a barbell loaded with heavy plates and positioned himself on the bench, his muscles straining as he lifted the weight over his head.
Sweat dripped down his forehead as he pumped out rep after rep, the veins in his arms bulging with the effort.

The thin layer that had hugged his body with sweat, his tall frame draped in a long-sleeved black shirt that curved over his torso tightly.

His white bandana was a stark contrast to his dark clothing, covering the lower half of his face and leaving only his piercing blue eyes visible.

At each inhale, the bandana sucked in slightly with a soft dip, sweat dripped from his brow, pushing up a final rep before settling the bar on the holder.

He sat up and leant to the side, stretching his now sore arms upward, chest heaving in attempt to relax the stitch he had developed.

Arms lowering, with clasp to the seam of the bottom of his shirt, he raised it and wiped the sweat off his face, lowering his bandana.

He raised his eyes to the large mirror that was spread across the wall, admiring how far he had come since he started.
From his peripheral vision, saw a shadowy figure standing a few feet behind him, watching him with interest.

"It's rude to stare, you know."
Truth being, Spirit didn't have a clue of how long they had been there for, but it made him nervous.

A quiet "Hmph" had barely been heard.

He raised his bandana that now covered his lower face again, softly laying it over the bridge of his nose and reaching behind his head to tighten it.

"Don't."

Spirit raised his eyes into the others who reflected in the mirror in-front of him.