The masks we hide behind and the lies that follow

Your mask is not your face

If this was at all any less familiar Soap would be six feet under right about now. But the familiar scent of burning flesh and dead bodies was all too familiar to him or Ghost. Soap's blue eyes tracked the blood pouring out of Hassan's still body with disgust. Even if he had seen this more times then he could count on his hands that didn't make it any less revolting. His brains spilled out and stained the floor under him. Gross. Soap made his best attempt to hide the want to puke behind a calm look, but brains were fucking disgusting. He much preferred the rendezvous he would be gifted with during demolition deployments.

"Johnny," the English accent was deafening to him for a second as he lifted his gun to point. But when he was greeted with a skull masked face and hands up he lowered his gun
"Ye should have told me you were coming in. You scared me," Soap explained, forcing out a breath laugh that sounded more like a tired defeat

"You alright, Johnny?"
"What are ye talking about? Course I am ya old bugger," Soap forced another laugh and walked over to gently rub his boyfriends shoulder
"I don't like that pet name very much Johnny. But seriously, are you okay love? You were nearly thrown out a building," Ghost explained and took a moment to calm the brunettes mind. Putting a hand on his hip and letting it settle there
     Soap squirmed under the hand and looked away nervously. Finding it hard to answer. But after a moment of thinking he stopped squirming and said "aye. I'm alright Si"
     "That's such a bullshit lie you Scottish bastard," ghost murmured taking off his gloves and reaching up to hold Soaps tired face in his hands

     Soap stared back up at him. His skin was tired. He was tired. Tired to his core, his bones ached, his eyes were sunken and dark with exhaustion, his skin burned with the new trauma. Tears threatened his eyes as he punched Ghost's chest lazily and shook his head. He hadn't a need to say much more as he was pulled in by the Englishman who cradled his head. One hand on the base of his skull while the other held his body for support. His hands rough with scars that had smoothed themselves out on his pale skin, his eyes focused on the way Soap moved and breathed. Deciding it was best to not do this in vicinity of the dead body and moving them over to two elevators with a front desk. Picking the Scott up and putting him on the desk. Starting to check his body for wounds

     "I'm okay... I didn't get hurt," Soap lied, his didn't want to be checked and taken care of. He wanted to be held. To be kissed. He pulled ghosts face up from his arm and kissed him through the thick mask. His lips creasing with a frown as he said "I want your face..."
     "I'm right here Johnny. I promise" Ghost hummed. His eyes looking soft and calm but that wasn't enough for Soap
     "No, I want Simon... not ghost," Soap pressed on while his thumbed tracked down to the rim of the thick cloth

     "Simon is on leave right now love"
     "Si, please. I need you right now... please.."
     "John I... what if someone comes in? It's a risk"
     "Simon..." Soap pleaded and grasped ghosts face a little tighter to prove a point

     The tall Englishman sighed but nodded, reached up and pulling off his head gear he had not yet removed in the need to see his partner again. Setting it besides the brunette, holding it still for a moment before he reached up to the balaclava trim and tugged it off. His blonde hair falling out of place as he pulled it off. His eyes were smudged with grease paint and his lips were cracked and dry, red blotches on the wet of his lip from excessive lip biting. Soap's shoulders drooped as he relaxed, his hands lazily reached up to stroke his bottom lip. Finding it's way to the scar on his lip. From the top of his chin to just under his nose. The Scottish man's thumb traced over the scar before he leaned up to pepper soft kissed across the scar. A shaking hand reaching up to stroke the scar across his cheek that connected to the one that went over his eye. It wasn't as deep as the others. It was the least traumatic scar the ghost had on his body. Ghost stood quietly, his hands planted on Soap's hips, tightening slightly when the shorter man's hands stopped their adventure on his chest.

"I hate not being able to see your face Si," soap muttered out. His nose pressed to his cheek
"You've got me Johnny boy," Simon hummed rubbing his shoulder
     "Not your face. Never your face... I can count how many time I've seen your face on one hand," soap grumbled out and leaned his head onto his lovers hand
     "Ya. But you can see my eyes, my lips sometimes to, you even get to see my hair if I'm only wearing the medical masks," ghost tried to reason with him. But he knew it was hard for someone like Johnny. Who needed connection like that. Connection in the way that he trusted him completely. And he did he really did. But that didn't mean he liked his own face. Not the scar on his pale cheek or the one of his eye. Not the ones that bore down on his neck. Or the ones on his chest that Johnny had kissed so attentively after Las Almas.

     Ghost sighed and pressed his nose to Soap's hair. Keeping quite before he hear the brunette say "ya.. but it's not your face L.T, it's not an extension of it either. It's just a mask.."
     "I know... I'm sorry Johnny I just-"
     "Hermanos, your both okay," Alejandro spoke running in. Simon pulled on his mask quickly and stepped back from soap. Crossing his arms
     Soap felt absent now and said "Ale. aye, we're jolly. I didn't think ye was here... I thought you and Rudy went back to Las Almas."