Call of Duty Oneshots

Love Again (Requested Soap)

"What will it be today Price? The whiskey or our new rum?"

"My usual tonight," Price looked over to his posse and nodded. "As for you guys?"

"I'll take whatever he's having," a man with dark hair and eyes glanced your way and then went back to talking to a man from another table.

The youngest of the group, a man with dark hair cut less at the top in a mohawk-like pattern and sea blue eyes, was watching you carefully. He'd caught your eye earlier when the group had first arrived. You watched him just as curiously back.

"And you?"

"What would you recommend?"

"Are you a lightweight?" you tested playfully.

"No."

"I'll have them make up something for you," you smirked.

"Can I have some of those house fries?" Price asked.

"Never, old man," you joked and earned a smirk back.

Heading back to the kitchen and drink machine, you called out the order and then ripped off the sheet on your notepad. Flipping to the next clean sheet, you headed back out to your fourth table. The table consisted of younger people and you questioned their ages.

"This one is under, but the rest of us are over," the oldest guy went to pull out his wallet.

"I believe you, it's alright," you waved a hand. "What we will be ordering today?"

As the group told you their orders, you scribbled on the pad. Only the cooks knew your chicken scratch handwriting and could decipher the hidden codes.

During your note taking, you could feel the heavy gaze of that young man at Price's table. He was watching you like a hawk, but didn't seem to want to dive for the prey. You felt like, since you thought he was kinda cute, you'd have to be the hawk.

It was a long four hours later that you turned the open sign to closed and began cleaning up the place. The people still occupying the place took their time. As they left table by table, however, you spot cleaned.

To the old-fashioned music box, you hummed a song. You hadn't heard it yet, but it had to be something slower. It was a nice little tune without lyrics, jazz if you were accurate.

"Hi, do you have a moment?"

You nearly spooked out of your skin to the close low voice. Facing the young man from Price's group, you raised an eyebrow. "Yes."

"My name is John, but most people call me by my nickname Soap."

"I'm Y/N," you paused. "Why are you talking to me?"

"Because," Soap paused and rubbed his neck, "I think you're pretty and wanted to get to know you better."

A slight blush came to your cheeks and he seemed to notice because he smiled. Wiping the table a little more, you sat down and offered him the spot across from you.

With another smile, Soap placed himself in the spot.

~~~