Call of Desire

21. Trepidation

trep·i·da·tion
/ˌtrepəˈdāSH(ə)n/
noun
a feeling of fear or agitation about something that may happen.

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Content Warning: Blood, Injury detail

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John woke to a kiss on his lips. It was soft and gentle. 

Simon. 

As the Brit pulled away, Soap opened his eyes to see his lover's smile. 

"Good morning, Simon." he hummed.

"Good morning, Johnny." Ghost responded, kissing him again.

John smiled into his lips, wrapping his arms wound the man. "Any reason for the extra affection, sir?"

"No," he replied. "You deserve it."

"You're too kind." 

"Mm." Simon's body was perfectly illuminated by the sunlight coming through the window. Streams of light flowed over his abdomen, painting him like a god. 

"You truly are beautiful, sir." Soap breathed, staring.

"If you think so." 

"It's just true, Simon."

"Mhm." Closing his eyes, Ghost laid his head against John's chest. "You're all mine..."

"Mm... Price and the others will be here soon."

"True."

"So we should get up."

"No." Simon sighed. 

John chuckled. "What do you mean 'no'?" 

"I mean I'd rather stay in bed with you forever." 

"I know, my love." 

Both men deeply exhaled, relaxing into one another. John kissed the top of Simon's head, holding him close. "But Price awaits. Makarov awaits."

"Death awaits," Simon muttered. "And I don't want to die, now that I have you."

"We can just stay... send Price to Russia with just Gaz and Nikolai." Tears pricked at the corners of Soap's eyes, forcing him to blink them away.

"You know we can't. He needs us. If we go, we might die. If we don't, those three definitely will." 

"I know..." the Scotsman's voice cracked. "We don't really have a choice, do we?"

"No, my love. No. We never do." Simon clenched his jaw, clutching his Johnny closer to him. 

I love you, Johnny...

"We need to get up." John's voice broke again as he trembled.

"Please don't cry, my love..." His heart throbbed, watching John cry was too much. "Hey, hey..." Simon moved a hand to Soap's cheek, wiping a tear off the man's face with his thumb. "We're gonna be okay. The mission might go perfectly. Hey, it will. The mission will go fine, and we'll be back in London in no time." 

John chuckled, tears crawling down his face. "You're optimistic?"

"I hate seeing you upset, my love. If my optimism helps, then so be it."