Some would think that the hardest person to put into some formal wear would be Ghost.
He uses the comfiest clothing he has, soft and big enough for easy movement and with as many pockets as humanly possible. The man's practicality in his dressing style is what tends to make people think this way. (Also the fact the man just seems to rotate the same.... four pair of.... everything for weeks on end)
But no not really. When time does come, Ghost is someone that cleans up well. He makes sure his suits fit him like a glove, no unecessary bunching or tightness that would make the whole ordeal be hellish. Always making sure he has spots to hide his weapons "just in case". His hair might be the only issue in everything - but it's not from a lack of trying. The thing has life for itself.
He even makes sure to treat the little invisible parts of his face with care (though that's mostly with someone's else's help).
He's a sight to see when formal wear comes into play. Layering being his best friend even in this situations. Shirts. Jackets. And the vests he uses, usually subtly decorated, hug his chest and middle tight but elegantly. It's both mouth watering and knee weakening.
And does Soap want to kneel
It's rare, but god is it a devine look. Ghost's elegance and confidence always radiate brighter, putting the sun to shame, when he leaves the bathroom.
Dressed and ready to go. Smelling phenomenally like a fresh shower and soft cologne.
Soap always has to count to ten before he even approaches the man. Controlling himself to not do.... something that would get them all late.
But no it's not Ghost who's a pain in the ass to get dressed to the nines. (Soap would even go as far and say the man always looks forward to putting on a nice suit)
And it's not Soap either.
You see being raised with an.... arrangement of sister's makes you a little more preoccupied in your appearance. God forbid he goes out with them in just a plain pair of sweatpants. (He did it once, and wore dress shoes on purpose to see the vein in his twin sister pop and his youngest eye twitch. His mom just shook her head with laughter)
But, no. Johnny takes great pride in getting dressed nicely. Always making sure his accessories go well with the vests and shirts he puts on. From rings to earrings and necklaces. Never too much. Just to pop attention to where he wants people to look
There's this....."necklace" that he loves wearing. For no reason in specific, of course, it's not like Johnny hasn't seen Simon look at him hungrily when he uses it or anything... It's also not because he always leaves some buttons undone when he uses it.... He finds it pretty, is all.
His style is marginally different from Ghost's, of course. While the man likes to go more monochromatic with it. Johnny takes pleasure in mixing blues and golds. Red's, Green's. He has either shirts decorated subtly. Or vests that are the center of attention in different graceful shapes.
He has fun in it. Gets a little boost of euphoria in putting some nice pants that hug his ass nice just right and a vest that flatters his chest correctly. He always forgoes a jacket though. Having the tendencie to roll the sleeves up his arms and leaving his arms exposed. (Price has told him multiple times to not do that since it's not "formal enough"....
"But sleeves are so itchy, Price." He whines, making the most miserable face he can.
Price sighs, pitching the bridge of his nose
"You know what? I'm too tired for this." "Do whatever you want, but make sure to cover your tattoo.")
The perfect image on causally put together - as his sister would tell him.
He also takes pleasure in stealing Ghost's nice colognes and using them on himself. Going sometimes for Gaz to help him fix his hair and eyebrows, making sure everything is in place.
So as you can tell. It's not Ghost nor Johnny. Gaz is of course not even close to that list. And price may grumble (because of the loss of his dear hat) but he gets the job done.
No, the person who is a fucking pain in the ass to get ready. And to pry out of the bed with a hammer so he puts on a fucking pair of nice pants is no one else but local Cockroach Gary, pain in Soap's ass, Sanderson.
Who see's anything besides t-shirts, jumpers and tank tops as a straight jacket. It's like getting a five year old dressed for the cousins wedding. Fighting tooth and nail to get the bastard in nice pants.
"It's tight," he whines, feeling talkative on this day where things don't really go his way.
Soap eye twitches.
Ghost chuckles from where he's shaving by the sink.
Soap is very close to throwing a bottle of shampoo at his head
Johnny has been fighting him, physically, for over an hour to get him in the vest. He could forgoe it. It's not necessary. But he knows Roach likes layers, feels more protected with it, so it would make him the most comfortable to go with it.
"Ah dinnae see ye complainin' when ye put on yer tactical vest-" he tightens his hands on the buttons when Roach squirms again "- stop squirmin', bloody Jesus- I'll go get the fuckin' pesticide, Gary dinnae tempt me."
At that Ghost let's out a breathless little laughter and when Soap looks up furiously at him in the mirror the man has his head hanging low, shaking with suppressed laughter.
"Ye think, this's funny? Come dae the job yourself then," he grumbles, giving up with hands towards the air.
"Take care of yer man."
Roach huffs up at him, crossing his arms over an half buttoned vest and an messed up shirt. Johnny doesn't even want to look at his hair, least him have a stroke right there and then. Good thing they decided to start dressing a good length of time before they need to get out.
Him and Ghost trade spots, Johnny finally getting in front of the mirror to get himself ready. His eyes don't get the idea though, straying constantly to the reflection on the two men standing behind him.
Roach refuses to look up as Ghost gets in front of him, posture relaxed and mirth rolling out of him in waves. A hand flutters through his hair gently but he stays looking at the floor until Simon rests his hands on each side of his face and lifts it to look at him. Ghost lifts an eyebrow
"What's all this, then," he says in an exaggerated accent. He does it softly, getting a huff of laughter from Johnny.
His eyes don't leave Gary's tho.
"Tight," he hisses through gritted teeth.
Simon hums as his eyes gaze down slowly his body. Analizing. Roach supresses a shiver.
"This was tailored for you." Ghost puts two fingers between the vest and Roach's chest, pulling gently the fabric towards himself, observing the give and leeway of the cloth in question. "It's impossible to be tight," he points out, head still sucked down, looking through his lashes at Roach, through Roach.
They stand in silence, staring.
Gary is the first to yield.
'It's...it presses...wrong.' He signs, 'Uncomfortable.'
Simon's hand presses gently over Gary's left side, right over his ribs. An acknowledge of what exactly is getting pressed...wrong. Roach let's out a sigh before Ghost pulls away to stand in front of him, head turned to the side and eyes fixated - thinking.
"Johnny." The man in question stops fussing with his hair, eyes already fixed on the ones that stare at him from the reflection. "Do you have your black suit at hand?"
He pauses for a second. "Ah think so, yeah."
So they all stop what they're currently doing and scavenger Soap's side of the wardrobe until he comes out with a triumphant yell.
"Ah asked him an hour ago if he wanted to wear somethin' of mine and he said nae", he says deadpanned as he watches Ghost take the pieces carefully out of the protective bag. He then glares directly at Roach.
Who was fluttering his lashes innocently at him.
He rolls his eyes passing the two to get back to the bathroom and finish getting ready. Gary catches him by the waist. Pulling him in and kissing him on the corner of his mouth. An apology.
Soap hums, turning more fully and pecking him on the lips.
"Sweet talk me all ye want, love. It ain't gonna work." And then he leaves, slapping Roach's backside and booking it for the bathroom in giggles at the man's indignant yelp.
Thirty minutes later and John is up and ready to go sitting on the couch waiting for the other two. It's all quiet besides the occasional muffled sound of Ghost's voice.
It takes thirty more for the bedroom door to open. And when it does Soap is up and looking up eagerly, holding his breath.
Simon is the first one to leave the room. Dressed in all blacks. Hair slicked back nicely, a single rouge strand falling gently over his forehead. Shirt hugging his biceps deliciously and tidied up to perfection. Little gold brooches rest on the collar of his shirt harmonizing everything.
Enticing Soap to kiss his neck
He decided to wear the vest that Soap has dubbed his favorite. Completely black save for the gold accented flowers that frame the whole thing. It accentuates his waist and makes Simon's pale skin and hair shine even under the god awful lights of the livingroom.
The slacks sit comfortably on his legs and God do they make them look like miles longer than they actually are. Fighting for their lives at his thighs and ending just under the ankle. Just missing the shoes and jacket that are by the door.
Soap has to bite his lip and exhale through his nose.
Breathtakingly, drop dead fucking gorgeous is what he is.
He kills for that man.
Ghost saunters closer to him and rests both of his hands on Soap's waist, leaning closer to nuzzle against his freshly groomed stubble. Cologne fills Soap's nose, leaving him dizzy.
He notices familiar earrings resting prettly on Simon's ears. And his knees almost buckles when he realizes they're his.
Dark blue, almost black, just like the vest he's wearing.
"Gorgeous" his voice leaves him in a rough rumble, vibrating in his chest and leaving close to Simon's ear.
The taller man's hand snake to his chin, and heavy eyes look down on him.
"You're not too bad yourself," he mutters, bending slightly to kiss him. It's soft and sweet. Long. And doesn't go any father than that before he's pulling away with a peck on the corner of Soap's lips.
He smacks Soap's ass before going to the door.
"Cheeky." Johnny laughs before he turns back to the bedroom door and his breath catches on his chest once more.
Roach stands by the bedroom door, hands in his pockets. He looks.... Well not self conscious. That's not a word for someone like Gary-
Timidly looking at Soap with a soft blush covering his cheeks. And Johnny is stunned into silence.
While Ghost looks sharp and downright sexy in his suit, Roach looks softer. Perhaps it's because of how the clothing sits a little more baggy on him. Jacket longer for his slightly shorter frame. Shirt buttoned with a loose short tie.
His hair is a mixture of slicked back and ruffled. Arranged so the longer pieces curl beautifully behind his face. There's a little golden hairpin close to his ear holding some of his fringe back. Framing it and bringing the green of his eyes forward. Shining with their specks of brown.
All Soap can think is that he looks God-like.
And that he looks his.
Wearing his suit, his jacket, his slacks, his shirt and as John gets closer and wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him flush against his own chest, nuzzling along the curve of his neck. His cologne.
His his his his his-
Possessiveness fills his chest and he can't help but pull him closer, kissing behind his ear and growling.
"My pretty boy."
Roach hums low in his chest, content with tilting his neck barring his throat further for Soap to keep smothering kisses all over.
"Fuck, doll. Ye look so pretty in my suit."
The chuckle he feels against his lips feels like dripping honey, coating his tongue as he licks a long strip just under Roach's jaw. The man gasps, hand tightening where it rests on Soap's shoulder playing with his earring.
His own hand tightens on the expanse of waist he's grabbing. The things he wants do for him-
Ghost heavy rumbly voice calls from the door. A shiver goes down Soap's spine at his tone. Detaching himself from Roach is painful but the kiss he gets on his lips is salve for his wounds.
Gary cuts it short, however and he has to keep himself in check and not whine at the loss. They both turn to look at where Ghost is standing gazing at them.
The self control Johnny has almost gets thrown out of the window at the look Simon fixes them. It's Hot, heavy, eyes so dark he can barely see the chocolate that rests behind the black of his pupils. He realizes that Ghost and Roach had full eye contact when Soap got a little lost in his own mind. He shifts in his spot a little.
"Let's go then, aye." He says cheery as ever.
Ghost turns with a huff and a roll of his eyes, one that makes Soap's grin widen. He's about to follow right after when Roach suddenly grabs his waist and gets incredibly closer to his ear.
"Be a good boy tonight."
'And you'll get your reward' is left unspoken but Soap heard it loud and clear, so much that he's left a blushing stunned mess in the middle of their hall as Roach follows just right behind Ghost.
He wills his heart to stop hammering in his chest (and his blush to stop being embarrassingly hot) before he follows after them, picking up the car keys and closing the door after himself.
Maybe Roach's fuss for fancy clothes wasn't so bad after all... His heart flutters, giddy.
It's gonna be a fun night.
god im fuckin. thinkin abt soap distancing himself from ghost when roach comes back. cause hes been vying for the lieutenants affection for a while, but then roach is there and ghost is so obviously besotted with him and they have a history and they obviously in love so what place does he have to get in the way of that?
then roach, whos heard so much from ghost about the sergeant and how good he is, goes and starts talking to soap and befriends him, and soap is drawn back closer to ghost and he soon realizes that fuck. hes in love with roach too.
but ghost and roach are happy together. theyre happy and in love and, again, who is he to get in the way of that? he hasnt known either of them as long as theyve known each other, he hasnt been through as much as them, and hes not worthy of them. not the way theyre worthy of each other.
so he pushes himself away again. everytime theyre together it hurts. every smile roach gives him when hes ranting. every chuckle ghost gives when he tells a stupid joke. every pat on the arm he gets after a good mission, every bit of praise he gets after doing good on the field, everything- it all hurts.
so he pushes away. he makes excuses to skip out on invitations to hang out, he stops ranting so much, he goes to meals earlier than usual to avoid the pair (even when ghost gets up at an ungodly hour in the morning) and eats as fast as his stomach can handle, he spars with gaz or konig or anyone other than ghost or roach.
he doesnt really expect them to notice that hes distant- at the very least expect them to care. but as time goes on it gets harder and harder to stay away, to the point where he starts to spend his breaks in his room instead of somewhere open. he starts sneaking snacks into his room for when he doesnt eat enough at meals because roach had dropped down right next to him with his own food and tried to start a conversation. he swears he fills out his sketchbooks three times faster than before with all the free time he has.
he ignores the ache he feels from being apart from them- its better that its him feeling that instead of making things awkward with ghost and roach.
eventually he ends up cornered- very nearly literally- with ghost guarding the doorway and roach with one hand on the wall next to his head and one pushing his chest, pinning him against the wall. it flusters him more than he'd like to admit.
roach asks whats going on with him, and he starts to spew out some fib about being swamped with work, but then ghost is way closer than before and he places a hand on the other side of soaps head and leans in and fucking growls "thats bullshit, sergeant." and soap lets out an honest to fucking god whine. on the fucking spot. hes surprised his legs didnt give out and drop him to his damn knees right then and there. hes too caught up in his embarrassment that he doesnt hear the way roachs breath hitches, or the way ghosts gaze gets a little darker.
ghost reaches out and grabs his chin, making him look him directly in the eyes.
"tell the truth, johnny."
and soap cant fucking hold the words back anymore.
"im in love with you! both of you!"
but he doesnt stop at a simple confession- he figures that maybe if he rambles long enough theyll get annoyed enough that theyll fucking forget what he just said, that theyll miss the point of the conversation, that he wont have fucked everything up.
"soap- johnny- johnny."
he stops, catching his breath the best he can.
"you've been avoiding us.... because youre in love with us?"
soap swears that hes on the verge of tears as he nods. he expects something- disgust, anger, annoyance- but he doesnt expect roach to lean in and press him lips against his own. his mind goes blank.
he cant help but lean to chase roach a bit when he pulls away, and he has only a moment of fuzziness before his eyes widen snap to ghost, distress filling him once again, and he tries to stutter out an apology but is cut off by ghost lifting his mask and kissing johnny himself.
when they part, its all johnny can do to look at both of them and breathe out an "oh."
(Ghost x Soap x Roach, short and sweet, established relationship)
Roach’s favourite perch in the training room isn’t anything special. In fact, much like how he considers himself, it’s perfectly average. The platform affixed to the top is just large enough that he can lie down without his boots dangling in the breeze or for the crest of his head to be exposed, but not any larger than that. There are ropes clustered against one edge that hang most of the way to ground instead of a ladder or stairs like some of the other sniper spots, but there is still a need to climb part the way up the pole itself.
It’s overlooked, discarded, not important.
Roach sighs, feeling his chest catch at the rough edge of his ribs and he considers if he had simply been poured into the construction of bandages around his torso. His hoodie is likely one of Soap’s, long in the torso and the arms, and it’s blissfully warm given that he had collected it from the dryer shortly before journeying to the training room. Soap wouldn’t mind. Much.
There had been one of the roving bands of recruits beneath him earlier, gathered in a rough huddle to try out some of the new equipment as they waited for the hours to tick down before their scrap of leave. Roach had made a note of some of the jokes they had used, letting his fingers flow through the signs as the air turned steadily blue beneath him. But they had long since departed leaving Roach in sun-drenched silence.
Or so he thought.
He notices the tiny red bead in an instance, the steady light circling one burnt out light and the another. It dips down to begin an extended arc to join the two before it trembles and vanishes along with the unmistakable sound of Soap’s laughter.
“C’mon, LT. You wouldn’t interrupt Da Vinci would you?”
“Would if you were him,” Ghost answers, brusque as always. Roach can tell when he takes control of the laser by the deliberate sweep back up to twist on the ceiling above Roach’s head, confidence even in that small lingering movement. He knows Roach well by now and that warms the scraps of his bruised and battered heart far more than he thought possible. “Bug? You up there?”
It’s a question that answers itself with the nickname Ghost has given him, one he only uses when they’re alone together or over the coms and alone as they can be amidst the hiss-crackle of static and distant whispers of targets prowling in the night.
Roach presses himself upright, gritting his teeth against the possibility of pain, and wriggles over to the side. He sticks his head over, taking a moment to check the ground beneath before he did so. Soap catches his gaze first as he always does. The other man is leaning against Ghost, most of his weight supported by the arm Ghost has slung around his waist, one leg raised in a valiant attempt to give himself the additional height to reach Ghost’s arm. It isn’t working, but Soap is laughing hard enough to threaten to dislodge them both.
Roach turns to Ghost. His gaze is dark and steady behind his mask, the handdrawn skull tugged up slightly at the corners as he smiles. “There you are, Bug.”
Ghost steps to one side, releasing Soap in the same motion. Soap yelps, staggering forward a step before he catches himself, turning to swear at Ghost even as he waves blindly up at Roach. They’re a mess of trio, truly, but Roach wouldn’t have them any other way.
Perfume by Lovejoy. Aro Roach. Ghostroachsoap maybe. Something. Help.
Mainly brought to you by the fact that these lyrics are. Painfully aro to me. And I want to fit Roach in there somewhere.
Okay first of all I forgot how good Wilbur fucking Soot music is-
Second you are so fucking RIGHT!
I went to listen to the song and it hit me like a train.
Cus the tone he uses in that verse is just like, so resigned? And that's the feeling I think Roach has towards being Aro in general. Like it sounds soft but it's clear he's not happy.
Melancholic! is what I'm trying to say
Expecially after the verse before that! LIKE that verse sounds so bitter and then he sounds so resigned and then he sounds bitter again.
Like this verse he's Bitter.
You say your ex-boyfriend's a policeman
Well, I say you need better standards
You say your ex-boyfriend's a policeman
I say you need better standards
This one he's resigned to the truth, maybe he finally realized it and is so sad about it.
It seems like all our friends
Abruptly fell in love
And she was in the dust
Darling, life was streaming past
So she learnt to lie
She learnt how to pretend
A drama in the futile
A means to an end
And this one he's bitter again. And even angry because,,, maybe he wants a reason to hate Ghost. Doesn't want to see that the truth is that there's something 'wrong' with himself.
Why can't you be a dick?
Why must you be so nice?
It's hard for me to move on
When I don't really hate you
(I don't really hate you)
(I don't really hate you)
(I don't really hate you)
The 'I don't really hate you'... that yeah... Roach telling that to Ghost over and over again. Like, you know that thing we talked about? Of Ghost and Roach being in a relationship but Roach being miserable cus he's forcing himself to love Ghost romanticly??? And Ghost being worried and sad, because he thinks he's not being a good boyfriend??
I think those verses (the whole song really) FITS BEAUTIFULY, with that concept
Also you have this verses (the ones in bold) in the beggining that just speaks desire to me. Which I think is what might put Roach off even more cus he hates the romance but he loves the sexual part? He wants Ghost but not like... dating, you know what I mean?
But it's all the same
Would be daft of me to cry?
Your tongue is razor sharp
I miss when it would fight mine
Left your heart on standby
By the way he holds you
Bet he serenades you
I can't really blame you
And the ones in italic, again just... give me the vibes of envy. Like... 'I wish that was me, but I'm not but I understand cus I can't give you that' type feelings.
Also just the first verse is amazing for the GhostRoach friendship after Ghost starts dating Soap. Bitter bitter bitter-
And I just bite my tongue
Update me on your life
And now you've found the one
But I don't like his eyes
And I distrust their name
And I hate their haircut
They look like a prick (a prick)
Listen Roach, to me is a little bitter bugger, yes, he doesn't really think like that about Soap, god forbid that man is a sweetheart (he does have the haircut of a prick tho-) But like deep inside in the meanest part of his brain? He's so fucking mad and jealous. That he can't have what those two have BECAUSE HE CAN'T FEEL LIKE THAT. IT'S NOT BECAUSE OF THEM IT'S BECAUSE OF HIMSELF.
He wants Ghost for himself! (but he can't)
And... maybe after a while he also starts wanting Soap (but he also can't!)
Alex you're a complete genius. This is such an Roach song! But more about the messy parts of his being! I'm going insane!!!!
Honestly you are so right this song is peak bitter aro vibes and I'm living for it!!!!!