#babbyyy

Hiding your relationship isn’t nearly as dull as you thought it’d be. You assumed this would be an easy thing, it’s not like you see the entire team at once, at least, not often. Plus, there aren’t that many people on base, so you figured it would be easy to sneak around. But it’s almost like, on a subconscious level, everybody knew. 

As soon as your relationship began, everyone was around more. The boys all started hanging out in the medical room, cracking jokes and smoking until it got late. When they went out, they’d stay at the bars until midnight at least, dragging Ghost along with them. Even returning from missions, they wouldn't leave Ghost be. In the medical room, in the barracks, in the washrooms, they were always by him. Like fucking flies, they were impossible to get rid of, as of late. 

It made things extremely difficult for you and Ghost, your relationship was really suffering from it. And what made it worse was that you didn’t even have a phone number to call or text. Everywhere you wanted to hug him, hold him, touch him, was occupied by his team. At times, you wondered if Ghost would just rather say fuck it, it was fun while it lasted. But you know that isn’t the case. Every time you pass him, he gives you a knowing glance, looking you over before lifting his attention to your eyes. He still came to see you occasionally, claiming to have pulled a muscle or something else superficial. But you’d have only seconds before the boys came in. Still, it was nice to know he was still there, that he still cared. 

“Ready for a long day, lass?”

Chuckling, you raise an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean, Johnny?”

He’s sweaty, the wetness dripping down the side of his forehead and making his shirt dark from the dampness. His breathing is off, too. They’d just come back from the interior gym. 

“Price is runnin’ us pretty hard today. We’ll be here late.” He sends you a wink, patting the table beside your desk. The one Ghost laid on when you’d patched up his stab wound. “And that means, you’ll be here late, too.” 

Rolling your eyes, you sigh. “Yeah, I’ll be here.”

“Maybe come to the pubs with us afterward?” It’s posed more so as a question than an overt offer, and it makes you grin. Sometimes, Soap was shy when he flirted. 

Nodding, you return with a gentle, “Maybe.”

You haven’t gone out with the team at all, let alone since you started fucking Ghost. But who knows, maybe you could tonight. You’re feeling extra desperate for him, lately. You just want to be around him, sit in his comforting presence. He makes you feel safe, cared for, warm. 

This new knowledge excites you, though. With the boys coming up to the outdoor gym, not only will you be able to see Ghost in passing, but you’ll also be able to watch him. And you’ve never had the opportunity to watch him workout before. 

The main path to the outdoor area is through the medical room, so you’ll be able to see each one of them. Gaz comes up after Soap, not saying much. He never does, just gives you a small smile and nod. And then Alejandro, asking how you are, just to be polite. Price asks the same, hanging around a bit longer than the comrade before him. The captain seems genuinely interested in what you have to say, how you’re feeling, whether or not you’ve had a nice day. You find this incredibly sweet, and also comforting, knowing how much he cares. 

And then there’s Ghost. He purposely hung back in the group, wanting to get even the tiniest amount of alone time with you. When you hear his footsteps, you turn around, your body tingling with excitement. A wide smile makes its way across your face when you see him, that gloved hand now opening the door. 

His eyes are full of admiration as he looks at you, stepping forward with ease. With the boys out of the room, his hands naturally find your hips, his form towering above you. 

“Hey, B.” 

B, a nickname from your nickname. Something he came up with over these past few weeks. 

Grinning from ear to ear, you stare up at him, hands sliding over his chest. “Hey, baby.” 

A small, happy hum comes from his throat, bringing his forehead down to yours. He feels your palms slide over his shoulders, your fingers petting at him. “Miss me?” 

“Desperately.” You answer dramatically, rolling your eyes with a grin. But honestly, it’s true. 

Those thick fingers tighten on your hips, his low chuckle vibrating above his ribs. When he feels your hands on the back of his neck, one of his palms leaves. Rising to his face, he lifts the very edge of his mask, eyes darting up to the glass behind you. It displays the training course - he’s making sure no one can see. 

The kiss isn’t heated or firm, it’s a gentle yet passionate connection. Both of you sigh into it, bodies melting together. He pulls you close, pressing the firmness of his chest to your much softer one. 

“I’m sorry.” He says, releasing an aggravated breath. You only have time for this single kiss. “I’ve gotta go.”

“I know.” You’re nodding, though you can’t hide the disappointment on your face. But as your hands slide down, holding either side of his face, you whisper to him, “It’s okay.” 

Honestly, you’re not that disappointed when he goes. At least, not as disappointed as you usually are. It’s only because he’s remaining close. Just being near Simon brings you a sense of security and genuine happiness; Jesus, you’re really falling for him. 

To say he was a distraction from your afternoon tasks is an understatement. Sitting at your desk, it’s almost impossible to keep your eyes on the papers you’re currently filing. There are many aspects to the outdoor course, a track, an area for weights, rock climbing simulation, etc. The boys started out on the running path with Price shouting  the occasional command. After that, it seems like they’re able to do their own thing, as long as they’re still working. 

Simon’s eyes meet your own as he walks in your direction, toward the station closest to you. Smirking beneath his mask, he takes a seat on one the benches, eyeing the weight equipment surrounding him. Per usual, it’s not long before Soap joins him. He’s trying to talk to Ghost, but he shrugs him off, not saying much in response. You watch dreamily as he lays back on the bench, preparing for a round of bench presses. 

Every time he lifts the weights, his muscles flex - you can see them moving beneath his gray long sleeve. Jesus, he’s so big, so powerful. There are so many weights on either end and he’s lifting it like they’re nothing to him. Honestly, probably just to show off. 

He’s still sweaty from his run when Johnny nudges him, nodding to the pull-up bars. The broadness of Ghost’s shoulders jumps a little; he’s laughing. Whatever Soap said gets him to move, standing from his short time at the bench. Furrowing your eyes, you watch as they move, Soap’s hands immediately grabbing for the higher bar. Simon goes to grab the one next to him, but stops, glancing back at you. It makes your face run hot, a shy smirk crawling across your lips at being caught. But he finds it cute. 

Contemplating his next move, his fingers reach down, finding the edge of his shirt and lifting it from his torso. Your jaw drops when he does it, tossing the shirt onto the sweat-covered bench. With little to no cloud coverage in the sky, the sun shines down on him, glistening across his skin. You can’t believe it, you can’t believe how good he looks, how fucking fit he is. 

Cracking the window open just a pinch, you’re able to listen in on their conversation. 

“Showin’ off for the med. girl, huh, L’t?”

“For the last time, Johnny.” He sighs in that deep voice, approaching the bar. “She’s not some med. girl. She’s got a code name, use it.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Okay.”

Grunting, his fingers wrap around the metal, hauling the bulk of his body into the air. “She deserves our respect.” He says it when he lowers back down, a heavy sigh filtering through his lips.

You’re sure he doesn’t know the window is cracked, you were fairly quiet about it. And to know this is how he speaks about you when you’re not around or can’t hear genuinely flatters you. 

“Think she might come out with us tonight.” Johnny’s up on the bar now, too, the one next to Simon. 

“Yeah? What makes you think that?”

Soap’s heavy grunts and sighs fill the air now, too, their collective noises making you stir inside. It feels strangely, dumbly, primitive. Being so turned on by muscular men. But honestly, you can’t help it. They look fucking fantastic. 

“I invited her again.” Johnny responds, giving up after twenty-five reps. Ghost is still going. “She seemed more open to it.”

Simon doesn’t say anything, he just keeps going. Every single muscle in his torso, arms, and back, they’re all flexing, working to build their volume up to a higher capacity. It’s so impressive, seeing him like this, getting just a tiny glimpse at what he can really do.

“Anyways,” Soap sighs, grabbing a water bottle from the cooler. “Hope she comes, would love to get her a drink.”

Ghost had been ignoring Soap’s comments until that one hits the air. Dropping from the bar, Simon huffs out a breath, dusting his hands off while turning to face his friend.

“You fancy her, yeah?”

“Think she’s alright.” Soap is smirking now, almost bashfully. 

“You don’t think Price would have a problem with that?” Shifting his weight, he crosses his arms over the expanse of his chest, gaze becoming predatory. 

Soap shrugs. “I dunno, don’t think so. As long as it didn’t interfere with work. Why not?” 

If this is true, Ghost thinks, maybe we can make things public after all.

“You talkin’ about Bones again?” Alejandro walks up, reaching between the two men to get to the cooler, too. 

Jesus, is everyone after her?

“Yeah, she’s comin’ out tonight.” Johnny grins, rolling his eyes when Ghost grumbles a maybe under his breath. Winking, he pats his Lieutenant on the chest. “I’ll convince her.” 

That’s it.

Marching forward, he presses past Johnny, earning a disgruntled noise from his friend. Stepping back, he eyes the much longer man, raising a brow. “Ghost? Where are ya goin’?” 

Opening the door to the medical room, he shouts over his shoulder. “Pulled a muscle.”

You’re lighting up with excitement until Price’s voice floats across the yard. “I don’t think so.” Comes that booming voice. “Sparring match, now. Half you lads couldn’t hold your own on the last mission.” 

Fuck, rolling your eyes, you sigh. So close.

You figure this will be pretty entertaining, though. You’ve never seen the boys fight. Honestly, this is all new. 

Sparring takes place in the center of the field, quite a ways away from you. But you can still see clearly enough to see who’s who. Leaning forward in your chair, you listen as well as you can to figure out the rules. Basically, no cheap shots to the groin. Anything else is apparently fair game. 

“Soap,” Ghost is already ordering, “You and me.”

“I thought -” 

“Let’s go.” Stepping up, Ghost grunts quietly, cracking his neck.

Soap isn’t sure why Ghost is acting so confrontational. Usually, Price paired them up. But he figures, why the hell not? Stepping forward, he readies his stance, thinking he has a fighting chance. 

Simon just wants to get some anger out. He knows you’re his, even if they aren’t aware of it, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy to hear them talk about you. He was happy you’d been declining Soap’s offers, and internally, he wanted to knock his jaw for even trying to make a move on you. 

Circling slowly, Soap is the first one to swing, Ghost dodging it and then punching his ribs quickly. It seems like Johnny’s on the attack, surprisingly, but Ghost remains calm, calculated. After missing two more strikes, Ghost lands on upper-cut. The way he’s moving makes the muscles in his torso twist and flex, his biceps bulging when he hits. You’re thinking about making an excuse for them to do this more often. 

It’s obvious who’s winning, but Ghost is starting to get into his head. He hasn’t felt your warmth in so many days now, it’s been more than a week since you slept in his bed. Maybe he can skip out on drinks tonight, opting to sneak you in instead. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Fuck, he can’t wait to hold you, snuggle you, wrap you in his arms and nuzzle into your sweet-smelling hair. He misses you, longs for you, every bit of you. And then, he turns his head, those warm eyes meeting your own from a few yards away. He holds your gaze, a small moment passing between the two of you. 

Just when you think the match will be done with, Johnny takes another stab. Ghost is so in his head with thoughts of you that he doesn’t notice, and doesn’t block it. Sharply, Johnny’s fist and Simon’s face connect, knocking Ghost’s large body to the side. He stumbles a bit, grunting. 

“Oh shit!” You shout in surprise, eyes going wide. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Johnny!” 

“Alright, alright. That’s enough for you two. Gaz, Alejandro, let’s go.” 

“Sorry, Ghost.” Soap is smiling while he shrugs. “Better luck next time.” 

“Ghost, go take a break.” Price orders, “I don’t need you to bruise.” It’s not like anyone will see it, but that’s not the point. He doesn’t want the pain to hinder him. 

Glady, he thinks, licking his lower lip.

As soon as you see him head your way, you’re on your feet, grabbing antiseptic wipes and an ice pack for him. It’s nothing serious but… it's Simon. Your Simon. And you’ve never seen him get hit like that.

“Hey, love.” Comes that deep grunt, the door opening and then shutting behind him.

“Hey, baby. Come sit.” Patting the table, you urge him over, but he just laughs. 

“It’s nothing serious, B.” 

“Well, I’m still going to clean it.” You say firmly, frowning. Reaching over, you grab his bicep, pulling him to the table. He obliges. “I didn’t like that.” You’re murmuring, lifting his mask and sliding the wipe over his cut lip. 

His shoulders scrunch up, then dip. “You know I’ve gotten stabbed right?” He chuckles, admiring your focused expression.

“Yeah, I had to stitch it up.” You remind him with a grin. Shaking your head, you then ask him, “What happened, anyway? Too busy thinking of me?”

“Actually, yeah.” 

“Oh, really?” Backing up, you throw away the wipe, handing him the ice pack you’d retrieved for him.

“Havin’ you around is kind of a big distraction.” Glancing down, he rolls his eyes. “And apparently not just for me.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“Do the boys always flirt with you?”

“Well, yeah. But I can’t really help that.”

A quick sigh is then forced out of his nose, rising to his feet and tossing the ice pack down. It lands on the table, and from your seat, you look at him, surprised. “Are you… mad at me?”

Turning, he reaches down, grabbing you by the arm and lifting you to your feet. His other hand finds your jaw, fingers brushing over your face. 

“I want you, B.” He’s looking down at you with those warm eyes, those deep hues of brown and caramel swirling. “Those assholes don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“Exactly.” You’re cooing softly to him, reaching up to hold his face, too. 

Simon’s eyes graze across your face, taking you in. It’s been a little bit since he’s been this close to you. “Don’t worry about them, baby.” You want to reassure him, too. Simon isn’t good with words, he shows his interest through actions. You, on the other hand, are good with words. And that just so happens to be one of Simon’s love languages. 

Leaning down, Simon molds his mouth to yours, the metallic taste of his blood leaking onto your lower lip. But you don’t care, honestly… it’s kind of sexy. Seeing him like this, all rugged and sweaty from working his body and muscles to their limit. From how sweaty he was when he first came up, you know their training inside must have been rigorous.

“Baby, they’re gonna see.” 

“I can’t take it anymore.” His eyes are still closed, mouth insistent with his hands wrapping around you. They squeeze your hips, his small moans making you melt into him. 

His back is facing the windows, completely hiding your smaller body. So, even if someone was looking, they probably wouldn’t see much. That is, until he turns you to face them.

“Simon,” A small gasp leaves your lips, wanting to feel more of his. “W-What are you doing?”

“Said I wanted you, didn’t I?” He’s leaning over you from behind, pressing your front onto the padded table he was just sitting on. His hands are still on your hips, his mouth just beside your ear, and he kisses it. 

“Right here?”

“Fuck,” Dropping his head, he places his hairline at the nape of your neck. His fingers are lining the hem of your pants as he says, “Yeah, sweetheart. Right here.” 

Lowering himself even further, he starts mouthing at your neck, ignoring the sting from his cut. The weight of him presses into you from behind, his forearms resting on either side of you as he cages you in with his body. 

“I’m supposed to be here with you, Price sent me. No one’ll notice I’m gone.” He’s trying to reassure you because Jesus fuck, he wants this. He wants you. 

“Mm…” A small smirk curls on the edge of your lip, feeling him grind into your ass. Lolling your head to the side, you let him kiss your neck, sighing from it. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” He asks hurriedly, groaning. “Yeah, baby?” 

“Yeah,” Now, you’re nodding, rubbing yourself back against him. 

Your insides heat up from the excitement of it, of possibly being caught. You’ve never done anything like this before, but Simon is right. Your chances of being seen are pretty low. The boys are all busy, and they won’t expect him to be back for a while. 

The brazenness of it all comes to life when Simon’s fingers move to your hips, pulling your pants down. He settles them around your mid-thigh, shoving his shorts down, too. 

“Fucking hell, I’ve missed this.” Staring down, he reaches for you, rubbing his fingers over your center. 

Lids dropping along with your head, you release a quiet and airy breath. So much of his skin is available for you to see and feel but you can’t do any of that, not with you still so covered. 

Simon’s hand flies up to his mouth, licking his digits before shoving them back down. He rubs you firmly, his tongue tingling with your taste. Rotating your hips back against him with a tiny moan, he shakes his head, loving the way you respond to him. And then he’s grabbing himself, lining up with your entrance. His head swipes through your sex, pulsing when he feels your wetness. And when he starts to slide in, he doesn’t look away, staring the entire time the two of you connect. 

“Simon,” Fingers reaching for the edge of the table, they curl around it, lungs inhaling a sharp breath. 

But he doesn’t respond, he just groans, wrapping his left arm around your midsection. He palms at your right breast, thumb rubbing your nipple through your shirt. His free hand then clings to your hip, the heavy intrusion of him seated inside when his pelvis meets your ass. 

“Oh my god…” 

“Good,” He grumbles out in that low, accented voice. “Taking it so easy.” 

It’s because you’re starting to get used to him. 

His forehead drops to your covered back, the very top of it. With a heavy breath, he moves his hips, just rotating them. The arm around your torso tightens, the fingers of his opposite hand digging into your hip. Every so lightly, he smacks it, and it makes you gasp.

“That’s it.” The way he says it tells you he’s grinning. “Make some noise for me.”

“Baby,” It comes out as a high whine, completely forgetting about the window you’d opened. 

“Oh…” That gives him the motivation to retract his hips before plunging back into you. 

Already, his pace is hurried, rocking your body against the medical table. Shifting his stance, he angles himself behind you, hitting you deep. Every thrust makes you whine, your little squeaks pleasing him greatly. 

Retracting his arm slightly, his hand travels down, pressing his palm over your lower belly. He’s grunting into your ear, body pressing you down with the weight of his chest on your back. Searching briefly, it doesn’t take long for him to find it, the slight jab of his tip against your inner skin. 

“You feel me?” Simon whispers gruffly, making your skin shiver. His voice seems rougher than ever before. “You feel me in your belly?” 

You’re gasping for him, walls contracting around his length. He doesn’t even pull out all the way before he’s inside you again. The pleasure of it all, of his body and words, overwhelms you, tears forming in the corners of your lids.

“Yes!” You wail out for him, pinching your tear-soaked eyes shut as you nod rapidly. 

“Feel me.” Ghost demands, reaching up and grabbing one of your hands. He then guides it down, his palm pressing your hand into your skin. Turning his head, he mouths at your ear, kissing it before whispering, “You feel that inside? 

You can; it’s the tip of him punching up against your inner skin, fucking himself into you until molded to him.

“Yes, Simon. Simon, I-”

And then his hand is leaving yours, chest heaving from his emotions and physical exertion. That same hand rises, fingers clasping around your neck. His quick movement and brute force prompt you to open your own, blown pupils widening. Palm flying up to hold onto him, squeezing his forearm in your tiny hand, you gasp. But he doesn’t squeeze, he just holds you, growling into your ear, “You’re mine.”

Helplessly, you whine, having craved this for days, for more than a week. And you’d think that after his workouts he’d be tired, but no. The mere idea of taking you forced adrenaline through his veins all over again.

“S-Simon!”

He’s pounding into you ruthlessly, chasing his own pleasure and knowing he’s giving you yours. More so than before, he lets his weight sink into you, hips jutting against your ass as he continues. 

“Feel good, B? Yeah?” Eyes rolling back into your head, you nod, moaning for him. It makes him smile breathlessly, the side profile of your expression. “Where do you want me, darling?”

Both of you had been right with your initial assumption, the boys are busy. But Soap, isn’t. You’d forgotten he was Ghost’s competitor, now taking a rest himself. And during that rest, he takes it upon himself to wander over, grabbing a bottle of water from the cooler. 

You’re too distracted by Simon’s body and words that you don’t even notice when Johnny comes over - but Ghost does. Of course, he does. Flashing his eyes up, they meet quite suddenly with his teammate’s, Johnny’s eyes widening in shock. His lips even part, pupils darting away immediately. 

Satisfied, Simon returns to you. “I asked you a question.” 

“On my ass,” You moan, and Johnny can hear you now. “Can you cum on my ass? Please?” That makes him throb; both of them, actually. 

And now, Soap gets it. From the way you’re talking, it’s clear to him that the two of you have done this before. 

Interesting, he thinks. She’s never asked that of me before.

It actually surprises him so much that he’s at a loss for words, lips parting as his eyes pinch shut. Quietly, he mumbles out a small, “Naughty.”

Something inside him snaps, a feeling in his chest breaking loose. It’s a sensation that’s raw and primal, a feeling of possessiveness and determination. He’s never felt this way about a woman before. 

Wrapping both arms around your midsection again, he grunts, hips stuttering as soon as your words allow them to. And then, he’s pulling out, bringing his dominant hand around. Leaning back, he jerks himself off over your ass, his chest heaving out desperate breaths. It flows through him, the absolute ecstasy of his high. He knew he wouldn’t last long, not when he hasn’t had you in more than a week. But honestly, you’re okay with that. For Ghost, you’re okay with anything. 

Chuckling breathlessly as he watches it, you can feel his body jerk behind you, the fronts of his thighs trembling against the backs of yours. And you can feel it, too, the stickiness of it washing your skin. It’s warm and thick and it makes you sigh. In a strange sense, you feel marked by him.

 “Sorry, princess.”

Reaching to the side, Simon grabs a towel sitting nearby. Glancing down, he uses it to wipe you off, gently running it over your skin while he sighs. And then, he’s tossing it in the laundry bin, palm coming down to smack your ass. It’s playful, now running his hand over your skin while he admires you. 

“Don’t be sorry, baby.” Turning your head to the side, he takes your que, leaning over your body again so he can kiss you. Whispering against his lips, you tell him, “I fucking missed you.” 

Johnny doesn’t look at you for the rest of the night, not even when you’re sitting right across from him. To your utter shock and genuine delight, Ghost invited you out with them. But you’re not appearing as a couple, not yet. Even after fucking in the med. room and now sitting beside each other, Simon going so far as to buy you a drink, no one suspects a thing. You’re hiding in plain sight. 

“Bones!” Alejandro’s accented voice shouts to you from across the bar. Looking up, you lock eyes, giving him your attention. “A drink?”

“That’s okay!” Waving him off, you then lift your cup. “Ghost already got me one!”

Alejandro then looks to Simon, who’s sitting right beside you, and raises a brow at him before turning away again. Exhaling slowly, contentedly, Simon leans back in his chair, settling his arm over the top of yours. He then turns his head, eyeing you. 

“What’s wrong, Simon?” Questioning him, you quickly take a sip, lips hovering on the rim of your glass. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He shrugs, that deep chuckle wafting into the air. “Maybe, but she’s not that scary.”

“No?”

“Nah,” Shaking his head, he takes a swig from his beer, sighing. “Just makes me wanna bone.” 

“Will you two igits shut up?” Soap’s rubbing his forehead, groaning quietly. 

“What’s your problem?” Your question comes with a hefty amount of attitude, Simon’s hand finding your thigh and then rubbing it. He’s quietly shushing you. 

“Give him a break.” Simon chastises, and this makes Johnny look up. “He saw somethin’ he wasn’t supposed to see today.” 

“What do you mean?”