Reliant ~ [John Soap MacTavish]

XXV. The Broken Lock

My heart pounds in my chest with anticipation as I rise to my feet.

A quick glance around the common room causes me to lock eyes with Ghost once more. He tilts his head back slowly, his gaze showing disapproval which I find oddly hypocritical.

I offer him a forced smile before I quickly make my way out of there, hoping no one else notices.

A nagging voice in the back of my mind warns me that I'm playing with fire, but it's quickly drowned out by simple lust. It's as if I've been thrown into the deep end of a pool, and I'm struggling against the current, not knowing whether I should be fighting it or simply give in.

I reach his door and my hand hovers just above the handle. I'm acutely aware of the wrongness of this moment, of the choices I'm about to make, but I can't help myself.

I push it open slowly, almost cautiously.

He didn't even try to lock it.

The dim room is cloaked in shadows, the only source of light coming from a single bedside lamp which doesn't do the entire room justice.

It does him justice, though.

Because there he is, standing in the middle of the room as if he'd been waiting for me.

Of course he was.

Even in this sparse lighting, I can tell he looks at me with a content look. He's waiting for me to do something, not the other way around. I see lust when I look at him. A lust that mirrors my own.

I can't hold back any longer. My body moves forward as if in a trance. His gaze undresses me, and my pulse quickens because of it.

"I thought I told you not to stop by," he whispers, his eyes dropping down to my lips.

Fuck.

Stop doing that.

I hum in satisfaction, my right hand finding his shoulder while his hand finds my hip. "Maybe I'm just as stupid as you are."

"Are you now?" he says, his voice nothing but a low whisper that vibrates right through me.

Without a second thought, he slips his hand behind my neck and he pulls me closer. The second his lips touch mine, I'm drowning in him all over again. My ears stop working, my heart is pounding, and I feel nothing but a need for him.

It's not soft and careful either. No. It's rough, his hands grabbing onto my body everywhere he can as he pulls me closer with force. Groans escape the both of us as the kiss is nothing but hungry.

A movie kiss. That's how I'd describe it. Not one of those sappy, sweet, and romantic types. No. The ones where you can tell they'd rather die than be pulled apart.

Though as Soap's lips part from mine just a second and he grunts into my mouth, it suddenly doesn't appear too bad. The sound has me spiraling, my vision clouded with arousal.

My hands find the back of his head, grabbing onto his short hair in hopes of pulling him even closer as his own hands bless my body with the same honor.

It's not close enough.

My grip on him tightens for a second, and before he can respond, I carefully push my body up against his chest. The movement causes him to stumble, and with a grip on his shoulders, I let him sit down on the edge of his bed.

Wasting no time, I straddle him, both my knees on either side of him as my head now hovers above his. He looks up at me, a wicked grin playing on his lips. "Fucking hell," he sighs, his voice so low it vibrates.