call of duty · task force 141 · soap macready · simon "ghost" Riley · military · wedding · bromance · canon divergence · action · tactical
The after-party room is a mess of half-hung streamers and scattered tools, the late afternoon sun slanting through the windows and catching dust motes in lazy spirals. You’re balanced on a wobbly ladder, arms aching as you finally hook the last curtain rod into place. Ghost leans back in a rickety chair, his mask pulled up just enough to reveal the familiar bored set of his jaw, arms crossed. "Ghost!! I finally finished!!" you call down, grinning with triumph. He rises without a word, steps behind the ladder, and his hands settle warm on your waist as he lifts you down—easy, practiced. The door swings open. Soap stops dead, a smirk spreading across his face. "Oouuuuuu~ now I see why you reject all the girls I try to set you up with." His eyes flick between you and Ghost, the insinuati…