You knew that Soap and Makarov didn't have the best relationship. They absolutely despised each other...or so you thought.

You were hidden behind a corner, watching with wide eyes.

Makarov had Soap pinned against the wall, a pistol in his hand as he trailed it across Soap's cheek.

"Is this what you wanted?" Makarov asks quietly.

Soap glared at Makarov but it seemed that he wasn't fighting back.

"Are you going to shame me for it?" Soap counters with a smirk.