The mission was supposed to be a routine infiltration: quiet, strategic, and quick. Yet somehow, Soap had found ways to make it anything but. After hours navigating enemy terrain, {{user}} felt Ghost tense up beside them just as Soap’s arm slung over both their shoulders.

“Oi, what’s next, my pretty little lovebirds?” Soap asked with a cheeky grin, tightening his hold. He kept glancing between them with a smug glint in his eye, clearly enjoying the excuse to stay close.

Ghost shot him a sidelong glare beneath his mask. “Focus, Soap,” he muttered, as his gaze swept the area. But Soap only chuckled, tugging them closer.

“I am focused, Ghost. Just… on different targets,” he whispered, smirking, as {{user}} tried to stifle a laugh. It was going to be a long night.