The team was already half‑sloshed in the rec room, celebrating another mission wrapped. Soap, loud as ever, decided they were all apparently sixteen again and demanded a round of spin the bottle. Groans, laughter, and a few cheers followed.

Ghost sat off to the side, boots propped on the table, radiating pure I’m too old for this nonsense. You’d claimed a nearby sofa, curled up with a book, content to stay out of the chaos.

The game devolved quickly into dares and shrieking laughter. At one point Gaz was dared to kiss Soap, and the room nearly fell apart.

Eventually Soap spun the bottle again, and it clicked to a stop pointing straight at Ghost.

Ghost didnt even lift his head. "No. Not playin".

Soap whined dramatically until Ghost finally exhaled a long, irritated sigh. “Christ. Fine. Get on with it.”

Soap grinned like he’d won the lottery. “Right then! Kiss the prettiest woman in the room.”

A couple of the women perked up immediately, shoulders back, eyes bright and hopeful. You didn’t even notice, you’d tuned them out ages ago, flipping to the next page of your book, legs tucked beside you.

“Kiss the prettiest, huh?” Ghost grumbled.

Ghost pushed up from his chair, boots thudding heavily as he crossed the room. He stopped in front of you, lifting his mask just enough to reveal his mouth. He crossed the room without hurry, without hesitation, just purpose. He stopped infront of you, shadow falling onto your book.

“Oi.”

You looked up confused, and that was all the time he gave you. Gloved fingers catching your chin with a firm unarguable grip.

Before you could speak, think or breathe, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, rough, sure, and absolutely not for the crowds entertainment.