Reliant ~ [John Soap MacTavish]

XII. Flushed Red

The night had passed far, far too slowly. I hadn't been able to get much sleep. Not because of the bed this time. It was the fact that Soap kept creeping up into my every thought.

With a sigh, I lift myself out of bed, thankful that the night has finally come to an end. Quickly getting dressed, I make sure my hair looks somewhat decent before heading out to the training area.

Price had finally ordered me to do some training with the rest of them, letting me out of the mental torment of waiting on nothing. It feels good to be able to get some training in, as the short fights with Soap and Ghost weren't exactly much.

The door to the training hall opens with a heavy sigh, and as I get in, I notice only one person.

Soap sits on one of the benches, playing with his phone before his eyes find me. "Hey," he says, offering me a smile that I can see from even this far away.

"Hey," I say, quickly catching up to him. "Where are the others?"

"Oh, they were sent on a quick mission."

"A mission?" I ask, my brows raised slightly. "Something to do with my team?"

"No," Soap shakes his head. "It's nothing. Just some side mission."

"And you?"

"Well. Someone has to stay behind to take...— to make sure you don't tear the place down."

My lips press together as I keep myself from smiling. "You were gonna say something else?"

Soap smiles defeated. "I was about to say to take care of you, but that wasn't exactly what I meant." He laughs a little, his eyes avoiding mine.

My own lips form a thin line too, smiling a little at his words. "Well, I appreciate the sentiment, even if it's a thinly veiled insult."

"Insult? I'd never.." Soap's grin widens, and there's a playful glint in his eye as he stands up from the bench. "I meant it in the most caring way possible, Alex."

"Yeah, I'm sure you do," I can't help but smile again, and I quickly bite down on the inside of my cheek to stop myself a second later.

Soap spreads his feet about shoulder width apart as he stands in front of me. "Ready to get some training in?"

As I look him in the eyes, I can't help but let my eyes fall onto his shoulders. My gaze lowers, taking in his arms and the way the lighting does wonders for the sight. The fabric of his t-shirt stretches just right, emphasizing the strength in his shoulders and arms.

'Alex, what the fuck are you doing. Focus,' I scold myself, forcing my attention back to the training. I nod swiftly in response to Soap's question, determined to put the fleeting distraction behind me.

Soap starts stretching, his muscles rippling beneath his shirt as he prepares for the sparring session ahead. My eyes follow his every move, my focus sharpening as we get ready to begin.

His expression shifts to a more serious tone as he issues a low, cautious warning. "Be a little careful with me," he advises, his voice carrying a hint of sarcasm.

I nod in acknowledgment, my competitive spirit rising to the surface. The grin that forms on Soap's face is infectious, and I can't help but return it.

"Careful, but not too careful," I reply, a playful glint in my eye. "I wouldn't want you to think I'm taking it easy on you."

Soap chuckles, and with that, we square off, ready to engage in a sparring match that promises to be intense and exhilarating. "Come on then, Alex."