Friends Don't Look At Friends That Way

Part Three.

***I listened to 1 step forward, 3 steps back by olivia rodrigo for this part if you want the full feels effect***

Turns out, Gaz's idea of a cure all for your man problems is lurking in the bushes that line the training track; where Soap and Ghost are currently instructing a class of new, petrified looking recruits. You try to pry several times about what exactly you are doing out here, only to be met with harsh shushes from Gaz. Clearly there was some hidden form of entertainment you were missing here because all this seemed to be doing is allowing you unfettered access to stare longingly at the man who holds your delicate heart in his calloused hands.

God he looked so good in his workout gear. His muscled shoulders glistening with sweat in the midafternoon sun, the signature mohawk appearing freshly groomed. If Gaz weren't a hairs breadth away, crouching beside you in the shrubbery, a long, covetous sigh would have whispered through your parted lips.

You are lost in your detailing every single part of Soap's body when Gaz shoves a handful of objects roughly into your palm with a wild grin.

"Here they come. Get ready."

You glance down at the acorns rolling across your hand and frown in confusion, about to ask Gaz what the hell is going on when you clock him shifting excitedly between his feet. Following his line of sight, you see the massive group of recruits now rounding the track in your direction, scared faces contorted with looks of concentration as they start their timed run.

Gaz waits till they begin to pass in front of where you both are hidden away before he starts chucking his handful of acorns at the runners. You watch in sheer disbelief as each bit of ammo finds its intended target, earning a surprised yelp from the victim who each pause to look around wildly to see where the projectile came from.

"Do not stop! Keep it going recruits! Now!" Ghost's demanding voice hollers across the courtyard and it has the them quickly scrambling over one another like lost lambs to get back to their run. The recruits take off once more, still subtly searching their surroundings in bewilderment.

Beside you, Gaz collapses into a fit of silent laughter, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes.

"This is what you do for fun?" You ask him incredulously. There is a hint of a smile on your own mouth and Gaz's laughter is contagious enough on its own that you struggle to hide it.

"Of course it is. Soap and I used to come out here and do this with every set of new recruits till he got pulled into the leadership side of it." He sits back to rest his elbows atop his knees, still chuckling lightly to himself. "It's quite therapeutic and I like to think a bit of hazing toughens them up."

This time you don't hold your smile back as you watch his face settle in an expression of pure enjoyment. He was right. In a way, this is exactly what you needed. It felt good to be able to openly laugh with someone like this. To do something completely unhinged and be able to enjoy it in the moment. To have a friend again.

Since your nightly rendezvous began, the fun you use to have with Soap as his 'friend' has all but died out. No matter his reassurances that your friendship remains incredibly important to him, it has never been the same as it was. It isn't from a lack of trying. You often find yourself attempting to renew that spark of connection you once had, grasping at the glimpses of the Soap you once knew when they arise. Even then, those fleeting flashes of who the two of you used to be seem to always fade into sensual touches and lustful words.

At least with Gaz, in this moment, you could have true fun and not feel guilty that you weren't offering up more of yourself at the same time.

"Your turn, love. Give it a good chuck and don't hold back." He says with an encouraging pat on your head, that grin of his never faltering. You pin him with an exasperated look which causes his shoulders to shrug. "It could be air soft bullets. That's what they did to me. Throw the bloody acorns."

With a heavy sigh, you wait and watch until the group is making its way back around the track. As soon as they are within throwing distance, you pelt the handful of acorns at them without a second thought. A strange rush of adrenaline surges through you as you drop to the ground, a hand over your mouth to cover your insatiable giggling as the recruits stop again to look around in confusion. Gaz follows your lead, his hand clutching his mouth as he falls apart in laughter, smacking his knee for effect.

"Aye, found the source," A dreadfully familiar voice rings out, Soap's face suddenly peering through a gap in the bush right where you're looking. "Nasty lil vermin. Nothin' tae fret. Move on." He calls out over his shoulder, his hardened gaze falling on you and Gaz who is trying to stifle his cackles.

"Hi." You sigh out, unable to help the tiny giggles that follow.

"Hi yerself." He drags his eyes slowly over to Gaz who has casually spread himself on the ground, the picture of unbothered innocence as he pretends to suddenly find a branch in front of his face terribly interesting. "What are the two of ye doin'?"

"Hanging around." Gaz interrupts in a casual tone, giving Soap a lazy brow raise, "Something the matter?"

"No." He answers firmly. Your eyes drop to his mouth on instinct, which he must catch because his tongue flicks across his bottom lip. "Gaz? Mind if I have a word with (Y/N)? I am sure ye have better things tae be doin' anyhow." Though phrased as a question, there is no doubt in anyone's mind that he was actually asking for permission.

Gaz catches on to the firmness to Soap's tone and pushes to his feet without further questions, shooting you a sympathetic expression as he walks away.

Soap extends a helping hand, which you take hesitantly, and he easily pulls you to your feet. His touch withdrawals the second you are standing and you know it's because you aren't alone out here. There it is, that stupid ache that wrings through you every time he acts like you two don't do what you do in the dark.

"You don't need to lecture me. We were just having some fun. Won't happen again, scouts honor." You hold up your hand in joking manner, trying to lighten the mood. His eyes are searching your face intently and it causes you to pause, your teasing manner tumbling away. "What?"

"Ye were laughin'," He murmurs, those blue eyes not leaving yours, "Ye were actually smilin'. I just — I forgot how beautiful of a sight it is." Soap starts to raise a hand to tuck away a wayward strand of your hair, but stops cold when he realizes what he's doing.

Over his shoulder, you catch the numerous stares of the waiting recruits who look away quickly. Ghost on the on the other hand, arms crossed across his chest, makes no move to hide that he is closely watching the two of you.

"Do you need anything else, Sergeant? Or can I go?" You croak, biting back the sad rage that is burning in your throat, in your whole body. Soap flinches at the use of his formal title, a look of regret crossing his features for a split second before he falls into a stern expression.

"Go. No more harrasin' recruits, ok?."

"Yes sir." You bite back, physically saluting him like one of his recruits would simply to rub salt in that damn wound of yours that he keeps tearing back open.

You make a beeline straight for the building that is attached to the dorms, not bothering to look behind you at the one thing your heart seems to cry out for.