#autisticsoap

Back to your regularly scheduled men

Ghost notices something odd about Soap. With all the time he spent staring at the man, it’s no shock he picks up on his little knacks and habits. Soap is always *touching things.* Picking at the spiral binging of his sketchbook. Rubbing at the mesh of a swivel chair in a briefing. Dragging his knuckles along the grout of the brick barracks walls as he walks. Always. Touching aomething. Picking, scratching, rubbing. Knack for textures, he supposes.

Monthly classroom training. The bane of every person on that base’s existence. This time around, with the instructor known for going on seven tangents before even getting to the topic at hand.

Soap is getting restless. Bouncing his leg, looking around the room for something to fiddle with. The fact he finds nothing only seems to distress him more. Ghost looks around too. Then spots his own gloves. The skeleton print is peeling just enough that it would be fun to rub over. So he pulls one off and slides it over. Soap looks at it for a second, then to Ghost, quizzically. Ghost makes rubbing motion over spots his remaining glove, demonstrating. It seems to convey his message, as Soap nods appreciatively and takes the glove, picking at the fading design.

Ghost has to snatch it back at the end of the lesson before Soap can peel off the little remaining print.

idk i just can’t get over the idea of ghost knowing exactly what to do with neurodivergent soap i love then so much

Daily Yaoi Thought #3

Long mission. High stress, little sleep, 10 hour flight back. Even worse, on a commercial plane. It started small. Soap bouncing his knee, tapping his foot. His shoulders were tense. Then nothing but scribbles in his sketchbook, where he’d usually be drawing. Then the way he pressed the headphones he hadn’t taken off yet to his ears and winced when they took off. Soap prayed no one noticed. Ghost noticed. He always did.

Ghost reached around Soap’s shoulders without a word, pressing a hand into one side of the headphones and his head into his shoulder, compressing him between the earmuffs. And it was… quiet. For once the entire week they’d been gone, it was quiet. The couple having a conversation in the seats in front of them, the man obnoxiously watching Instagram reels with the volume on, the pointlessly loud jet engines. It was all silent. Soap slumped into Ghost’s side with a relieved sigh. Ghost pressed their thighs together, just enough pressure to be soothing. Gaz shot them a look, but returned to his novel when Ghost gave him one right back. Price just shook his head.

Soap fell asleep leaning on him. Ghost didn’t move a muscle in the hours remaining.

I hope you enjoyed this daily yaoi thought

Should I keep going with this