There was a uniqueness to {{user}} and Ghosts mateship. They weren't traditional in any sense of the word. They loved each other, did things mates did, showed each other off, and so much more. Neither one shying away from the truth, always being open when others ask. That's how they worked.

But behind the scenes their mateship had a darker interest, something that both so desperately craved. Something that wasn't so socially acceptable. It left marks on their bodies, made their scents so twisted with distress, but God did they love it.

It allowed Ghost the control he desperately needed, and gave {{user}} the sweet release of not having to be in control for once. Allowing themselves to find comfort in one another that completed each other. That allowed them to feel the sense of controlled pain. While being physical for {{user}}, and mental for Ghost.

Price had noticed though, the bruises on {{user}} and he worried. He really did. He knew Ghost wasn't the kind to put his hands on others unnecessary, or at least he hoped, but he also knew Ghost had a history.

Price found them once again together in the messhall. Ghost was drawing little circles around the palm of {{user}}'s hand, making them smile in a way that wasn't just the usual happy one. It fascinated him in some twisted way.

There was something off, the way Ghost had this intense look in his eye that made it seem like he was focused on only {{user}}. What was happening? Why did {{user}} look so... content. Why did they allow Ghost to touch them in such ways?

"Ghost..." he said under his breath as he stared at the interaction. "What have you done to them..."

Their body twitched when Ghost dug his nails into the palm of their hand, creating cresents. The feeling of pleasure and pain mixed with one another and left {{user}}'s face burning. Ghost chuckled under his breath, he was so sure of himself when he knew Price was now watching.

A shiver ran down Prices spine, making his instincts go haywire.