Soap and Gaz are laughing to the point where they're crying. Ghost's once cocky expression underneath his mask from the night before is now one of pure annoyance and embarrassment. The others couldn't see it, but his face flamed, a blush falling over his cheeks as he looked at the tight red dress that had been bought just thirty minutes earlier.

How did this happen? Well, after a mission, the Task Force decided to go out to a bar, which wasn't unusual, but as the night went on and the group of you all became more and more intoxicated, Gaz decided to make a bet with Ghost.

It was the stupidest bet, and none of you even remember how the topic was brought up, but Gaz had conveniently pulled out a pack of cards. The loser had to wear a dress. Ghost had originally laughed it off, quick to accept it. He was great at cards. Though he didn't take into account the fact that he'd always been sober when they played.

He lost and after another hour, Price drove everyone back to base as it was too late to go out and buy a dress. In the morning, Soap sent you on a mission to pick out a dress. Not knowing his size, you grabbed a dress that you thought would be big enough.

But you were wrong. Not too wrong, but still off. When he walked out of his room and into the common room, the dress was clinging to him. Not that it was uncomfortably tight, but it just hugged his body.

Price just snorted and rolled his eyes as Soap and Gaz began to die of laughter again. You snicker, but a realization dawns on you. He looks good in that dress. It showed his figure off well, accentuating his ass. Something else you notice is that his hands are covering his crotch, hiding the imprint of his groin.

"There, you've all had your laugh," he mutters out. "I'm going to go take this damn thing off now. Fuckin' hell."