maja

Ghost turns to the coordinator with a death glare at this. The small man shakily stating he didn't want Ghost to change his designs last minute as he has worked so hard on them. Ghost remains silent and starts rummaging in what he has, throwing together something that fits the collection. Giving the shape he needs with pins he tucks away, gentle now knowing Soap has an injury.

Soap doesn't say much as his chest now hurts again, taking the offered pain pills one the designer is done. "Ta." He throws them down his throat without water and sighs.

"Let me know if anything else hurts."

He nods and chuckles as Ghost snatches the make up and does some touches on Soap personally. Letting him walk away to the runway as Ghost turns to give the coordinator a quiet talking to.

Soap does his job well that night. Hiding his pain on the runway and only letting it show back stage. Ghost now personally styling him as they work together to keep Soap from harming himself too much.

Ghost has a new found respect for Soap after that night. He's worked with him for a few years now, but coming along with an injury like that is something to admire. Likely Soap's manager twisting his arm to not dip out as the money is worth it. Ghost pays well for a reason.

He just makes sure Soap gets longer than normal to change into his normal clothes and rest.

Soap is smiling as he sits around and watches everyone filter away to celebrate surrounded by reporters and expensive food. Beginning to clean up the worst messes as he has always done.

Ghost is coming back from interviews and surprised to see the place look so clean. Soap with the cleaner's cart next to him as he goes a particularly annoying stain.

"You shouldn't do this."

"An' let 'em leave at 2 am? No. Nae letting it happen."

"What about the after dinner?"

Soap snorts at this, "Ye ever seen me at one?"

Ghost searches his memory and frowns. "Only at the end. When everyone is drunk."

"Aye its called likin' me personal space. Not te mention you lot are loud bastards."

"I can't argue that point... are you always late from cleaning?"

"Bet'er use of my time." Ghost goes to open his mouth, but stops and looks around. The mess left behind from the show is something he couldn't imagine. Are the others really that messy? Glitter all over the floor for one, the other point being the food packaging left out on desks.

He quietly pulls on some latex gloves and starts to help. Soap smiling when he does, showing him what chemicals there are and how to use them.

Between them they clean the worst of it and take out two bin bags of what should have been thrown away already. Soap does most of the talking as he complains about other designers and models, his family issues and whatever else is on his mind.

Ghost normally doesn't like chatter, but he's quickly grown to like Soap's voice over silence. If anything he likes how vocal he is about issues. Sure it's annoying, but he's not swallowing horrible pain and powering through it. Those who do end up off for the next show as they for pneumonia instead of dealing with a minor cold the week before.

Their conversation is broken by the cleaning ladies who scold them for doing their work. Though they are not angry, Ghost notes. They have smiles once they get the pair to wash their hands properly. Ghost watches as Soap is relaxed around them. Holding ice they provided to his bruising broken ribs.

Both are shooed out the door eventually and Soap takes in the cold air of the night. "Aye I like these walks. Feckin' freezing, but it's peaceful." Ghost walks beside Soap as he falls quiet and buries his nose in his scarf.

"Ey Ghost, got a question."

"Shoot."

"Who's under that mask? I get why you wear it, but 'ave always wondered who lives under there... Wish I could wear a mask if 'am honest."

"You really want to know?"

"I won't push ya, but ye. Even if its just yer name."

Ghost looks up at the sky as he contemplates the question. He really isn't open during work, neither is Soap for that matter, but he can't hide his scowls behind a mask. Maybe... Maybe just this once he can let someone see it.

It won't hurt right?

Soap watches as Ghost pushes his mask up to his hair line, showing his scarred face that hides under the fabric. "Simon Riley."

He looks over and is met with a warm smile that he hasn't felt in years. Matched only by his mother. Soap traces a scar as he speaks. "John MacTavish. Call me Johnny when we're alone." His hand in contact with Simon's cheek quickly moves up to the mask and pulls it back down. The smooth movement impressing Simon as he knows there is care behind it.

A wordless interaction of 'I won't force you to do this because of me. Take your own time.'

"Now let's go home. I need another ice pack an' some sleep. Get back safe will ya?"

"... Yeah. I'll get back safe."

Johnny waves as he turns down a side street, disappearing into the night as he puts on headphones and glances at his phone. Simon watches and his hand drifts to his cheek where Johnny had touched him.

Fuck.