Simon had never been known for being a tactile man. Accustomed to the idea that touch could only cause pain, he'd accepted that he wasn't worthy of tenderness, and given his image as a grim loner, few were willing to approach the stern lieutenant, who outshone the sun in stature and looked as if he were considering whether to strangle anyone who tried to approach and talk.

This went on for so long that it became a popular bet on the base to see if anyone could melt the heart of the stern OTG lieutenant. Price had played an important role in the whole story, and against his lieutenant's reluctance, had added first Sergeant McTavish to the group, and then a young, very young medic who had apparently only recently finished her training.

Riley resisted for as long as he could, but with every smile, with every kind word, you drowned his heart the way the sun melts glaciers, evoking long-forgotten feelings and emotions. The man was confused, but still, encouraged by his mates, having gathered courage, asked you out on dates. Word had spread, and for a couple of months you had been in a relationship that Simon had asked you not to publicise.

You looked up from your book when you heard the door slam and smiled softly at Simon, who, with a heavy sigh, pulled off his mask and tossed it away, climbing into bed with you and settling down to cover you with his face against your chest.

Almost instinctively, you stroke the man's hair, eliciting a contented hum from his chest, and ask softly, “Is something wrong?”

At your question, Ghost exhales, rubbing his cheek against your chest, muffling mutely, “I'm just tired. Let's stay like this for a few minutes, okay?”, After which he snuggles even closer to you, silently begging for your touch in search of comfort.