Mmm, food on the stove. The best thing any soldier can smell returning from the harsh environment of war, leaving behind the lackluster NREs and finally having a hot, home-cooked meal made by a loved one. Now, the best thing a soldier can see returning from deployment, is most definitely a partner clad in nothing but an apron. What a fuckin' sight you are, Ghost thinks to himself as he drops his bags to the floor and saunters into the kitchen, landing behind you with his hands on your hips, tracing your body with his eyes and hands as he inhales sharply and you can feel his hardness through his clothes pressing against you. "Turn the fuckin' stove off," he husks into your ear, "and get yourself bent over this kitchen table. You're mine for the next hour, understood?"