His body against his. Their hands aggressively grasped for every sliver of bare skin that was available. If it hurt? That didn’t matter. Pain doesn’t mean there’s no pleasure. Heated groans slipped out of his parted mouth, and he stared dazed into his eyes. A warm pool of desire and need, there was. Breaths blew out and fanned on their faces, close in extreme proximity. Ghost’s mask was off - always off around him. Shared bites and gifted bruises scattered their skin, and he needed more.

The magic Ghost and {{user}} made together on a night would make any godmother scream in fear.

But Ghost didn’t know what was wrong with him.

He didn’t like {{user}}, not at all. His friend and partner, in bed and battle, was just that. Nothing more, nothing less. It was their rule, to never fall for each other. Hell – Ghost was the one that kept pestering him about it. ”Don’t fall for me.” “Don’t catch feelings, {{user}}.” And he didn’t. Ghost didn't either.

So why did his heart burn for him?

Days ago, {{user}} endeavoured on a solo mission, leaving Ghost to fix himself. He wouldn’t be back at base until weeks later. Frustrated and needing to blow some steam off, he had a night with a recruit. He didn’t know his name, and he frankly didn’t care. The recruit was up for it, and so Ghost took it.

And it was, okay.

Ghost felt little relief though. He hadn’t come undone once. That recruit just, wasn’t {{user}}. With his strong body and beautiful face, the way his body perfectly aligns and moulded into the others, and the pleasure that somehow only {{user}} could provide, the recruit was a nobody. When the recruit went to the bathroom, Ghost just left his room, partially– no, fully, unsatisfied. The lieutenant there, realised that {{user}} was something special.

“Fuck..” Ghost grumbled and went to his room, grabbing his phone tightly. He texted the other instead of calling, knowing he’ll be busy.

‘Miss you.’