Chapter Text
Glasgow was just far enough. Simon’s therapist had instructed him to do whatever was necessary to make it as comfortable as possible. He figured a crowded bar far away from the base was the best way to not get noticed and not encounter anyone he knew. Just another anonymous face in the crowd. Plus, the low lights made him feel safe. A trial run in a pressure-less environment. The end goal wasn’t necessarily to get rid of the mask and Ghost altogether, he will always need them in some way. But he was slowly working up the nerves to go about parts of his life barefaced. A shiver travelled down his spine “barefaced” even thinking the words made him feel exposed, vulnerable. He trusted his teammates with his life. He often confided in Price when he was struggling, he was the one who arranged for him to see his therapist. He was getting better at letting Simon out. The mask however, he was still too dependent on it.
The bartender put the bourbon in front of him. “That’ll be 3.70, luv” he hoped he smiled to her as he removed his mask and passed her a fiver.
“Do you want to go over the practical details?”
“Yes”
“Have you picked the place?”
“Yes, Glasgow, an underground bar, literally underground, brick vaulted ceiling and everything, it looks…cosy”
The therapist had made a note on her pad.
“I’ll keep my surgical mask to enter, if that’s alright, but I’ll remove it once I’m seated”
“It’s perfectly alright. Where will you sit?”
“A table in the corner, facing the room” He wanted to do this as much as he was dreading it.
“And if there is no table available? Remember, Simon, this certainly won’t happen as you planned.”
“I’m good at improvising when things go awry”
“Try not to look at this too much as a mission”
“But it is in a way”
“I suppose it is”
Thinking of it as a mission had absolutely been why Simon accepted to do this. He had picked the city with regard to distance from base and ease of access and exfil in case of emergency, Paris was an other viable option but his French is shite and like any good Brit, he despised the French.
With the city picked out, he had gathered all the intel he could about the local bars scouring social media and picked one that didn’t seem too intimidating. It was popular but still approachable.
“I could also sit at the corner of the bar, still facing the room” he felt like he was balancing on a knife’s edge wanting to hide while being in plain sight, being invisible and still be seen.
“What’s your usual drink?”
“Bourbon, I’m not sure I should order that in Scotland though”
“Why not?”
“I wouldn’t want a horde of drunk Scots chasing me down the streets with torches and pitchforks”
“They’re Scottish, Simon, not fanatic savages. I’m sure if Bourbon is on the menu it’s fine to order it”
He was making light of it but it was a real concern. He was thinking about it since he had picked Glasgow. Would it be okay? Would he attract attention? Should he research scotch whiskys to find some that were the closest to bourbon?
Simon had been relieved to find the menu listed as much bourbons as it did Scotch whiskys. He had sat at the end of the bar, he felt self-conscious about hogging a table all on his own. He usually wouldn’t have minded but he was struggling to find even an ounce of his usual confidence.
He had hesitated too long before removing his mask when he sat so he had decided to keep it until he got his drink. With the mask folded in the pocket of his black hoodie, he took a long sip, looking around, then took a deep breath when noticing no one was looking at him. Not really knowing what to do, Simon defaulted to recon mode.
First, tracking the bartenders, the one who served him had light brown skin and long brown and purple hair gathered in two buns with curly locks falling behind her ears, the other one was a black person with cropped red hair and brown eyes a bit darker than his. They seemed to be in a good mood, preparing a large order of cocktails for a loud booth along the far wall to the left but a bit behind Simon so they were just out of his peripheral vision.
It was a busy night but not packed yet, it was still early. The bartenders were stepping around each other, gathering the ingredients and bumping their hips to the rhythm of the music as they went about their task. They were comfortable with each other and it helped Simon relax a smidge.
He looked further out, there was a group of what looked like coworkers still in work clothes having beers, a few couples, one of which, a man and a woman, looked like they were on the brink of having a fight, he kept that in mind for if he starved for entertainment later. There were other people on their own drinking and scrolling through their phone, some friend groups, none louder then the one behind him.
A few people returned his gaze as he scanned the room but never more than a second. After a while, he felt a bit more at ease, he could do this.
His eyes followed the bartenders when they brought the trays to the booth in the back. There were about a dozen people, they had commandeered an adjacent table and chairs to make room. It looked like a birthday or some sort of celebration.
A brown haired man who appeared in his late 20s perhaps early 30s was the center of the attention and by far the loudest of them. He could be cute if he weren’t sporting a ridiculous mohawk. He welcomed the bartenders by yelling out “CLEOOO! SOOOFFF!” “SOOOAAAP!” they replied just as enthusiastically and just as loud. Did he hear that correctly? What kind of name is Soap?
The purple haired one promptly returned behind the bar after dropping her tray on one of the tables with a huge smile on her face. Simon must have smiled watching the interaction because she smiled at him and offered “going away party” as an explanation.
“Should I try to have a conversation with someone?”
“You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable, but be receptive if someone wants to talk to you”
“Can I lie to them?”
“You don’t have to explain anything about the circumstances of your presence there. The objective is to get comfortable showing your face, to leave the masks and the reasons why you wear them to the side for a brief moment. Just be careful not to hide behind your lies. Be yourself” Simon nodded.
“How long should I stay?”
“How about two hours? Do you think you can do that?”
“Yeah, I think I can do that”
Simon didn’t know what to say so he just huffed a low laugh before continuing to sip. The second bartenders, Cleo, Simon thought, came back with the empty trays chuckling.
“Soap has a flight tomorrow at 11. He wants us to refuse him when he starts asking for shots”
“Ha! I’ll get the Kryptonite ready then” Sof replied laughing.
From his table Mohawk guy yelled out “A mean it Sof, A need a firm naw!”
“Yeah yeah don’t worry, no shots for you, but you better not be stingy on the gratuity”
“Wouldnae dream of it”
Simon realised he had slightly adjusted his stance so not to have to turn around to Mohawk’s table to follow the exchange. He looked at his watch, 25 minutes had passed. The bar was getting busier and louder. Two men, a couple, came and sat next to him they ordered Lambiks which turned out to be some kind of beer.
He finished his drink while leisurely listening to the conversations around him. The couple that looked like they were fighting were now drinking in silence looking at their phones. The man got up and came to order a drink. The woman didn’t even look up when he got back to the table. Simon motioned to Sof to order another drink. “Another Bourbon?” “Please” he nodded.
“Bold of ye tae order that in Scotland”
Before Simon could formulate a response to the man who had crept up beside him, Sof intervened as she put the drink in front of him.
“I wouldn’t go around judging other people’s drinks, Soap, what was that you were drinking?”
The man squared his shoulder and proudly replied “Porn Star Martini, Sof and I’ll take another one”
“Would that be all?”
“Naw, it’ll be 5 Porn Stars, 3 G&Ts, 3 coke zero and a Jägerbomb”
“It’s too busy to bring it to the booth this time, you’ll have to take them”
“Aye, A’ll wait here”
Sof took the fiver Simon had set on the bar and smiled at him “Don’t let him bother you” as she gave a side look to Mohawk.
“Oi! Don’t make me sound like a bawbag!”
Sof made a face and joined Cleo at the cocktail station to start the order.
Mohawk had blue eyes and a scar on his chin, he was still pouting when he turned to Simon. He smiled brightly when their eyes met. Definitely cute. “Hi, am John, swear am no a menace”
“Uh S-am, Samuel, nice to meet you”
“Nice tae meet ye Sam-Samuel, come here often?”
Was that- flirting? Really bad flirting? Simon was starting to panic, he looked to the bar, going by the smiles on their face, Sof and Cleo were listening, he looked down to his drink.
“First time, I’m just passing through”
He was staring, right at his face, he was too close, even in the dim lighting he could probably see every detail, every scar. Simon concentrated on keeping his breathing even.
“Work or pleasure?”
Well, torture, apparently. He felt heat rise on his face, he better not be bloody blushing. He couldn’t do this, he had to leave. Just then something snapped and his fight response took over. What the hell, he’ll never see these people again anyway. Wasn’t it the whole point of coming here?
“Work. And a little pleasure” he said lifting his glass to his lips with a smirk.
From the corner of his eye he saw Mohawk follow the movement of his hand, track his tongue as he licked his lips and stare at his throat as he swallowed. He turned to face him, the other man quickly closed his mouth. He was gorgeous.
“You know it’s not polite to stare, John”
The other man quickly looked down and Simon’s eyes followed the movement. He was wearing a long sleeved navy blue t-shirt which was tight enough around his arms to revealed his muscles.
“A wasnae-”
“Ha! You know I almost forgot you had a real name, Johnny?”
“Sof! Don’t call me that, A hate when people call me that. The name’s John”
Simon couldn’t have stopped himself if he tried. He spoke into his glass “Why do you hate it? Johnny’s cute.” Before taking a sip and planting his eyes in Mohawk’s as he swallowed.
For a beat, Mohawk looked like he was in a trance but recovered quickly.
“Alright” he pointed at Simon “ye can call me Johnny” then pointed at Cleo and Sof “But it’s Soap tae ye two”
Sof made a mock-military salute “Noted, Soap. Your order is ready, two trays, you’ll need help” he started turning to Simon with a grin “Not him you numpty, go get your cousin!”
He pouted and Simon chuckled as he watched him get back to his table. “He’s a good guy you know, he just gets a bit boisterous when he drinks, let me know if he bothers you”
“No, he’s alright but what kind of name is Soap?” Cleo laughed “No idea, he had it before we met him, you’ll have to ask him. Though he seems to give a different response every time he is asked” they replied with a fond smile. Simon just hummed into his glass.
“Alright we’re here, Ali, Sof expressly requested yer presence” Mohawk was back with another man who must be the cousin. “Is that so?” he said raising an eyebrow. He was slightly shorter than Mohawk, cropped brown hair, brown eyes and rolled up sleeves that revealed an SAS tattoo on his right forearm. Shit. Simon frowned when he noticed it but, remembering his face was exposed, quickly smoothed out his features. He turned away to face Sof who was rolling her eyes at the two men as she passed them the trays. “Don’t flatter yourself, Ali, and keep an eye on your cousin” “Will do m’lady” he said as he took his tray not even glancing towards Simon. Mohawk took the second one and as he turned to leave he gently bumped his elbow in Simon’s side “Later, Sam-Samuel” with a wink and a smile he left.
Simon watched as he made his way to his booth and thoroughly appreciated the way his jeans were hugging his back side. “Nice arse right?” He snapped back to Sof and Cleo who were watching him barely able to hold their laughter. This time, Simon knew his face was red. He looked down at his drink wishing so hard for his balaclava. Which was in his duffel bag, in his hotel room, 5th floor, 3 blocks to the North and 1 block to the East. He tried to concentrate on his breathing again but he was distracted by the still present sensation of Soap’s elbow on his ribs. No one ever touched him, not Gaz, not Price. Simon was a tall muscular man with wide shoulders, add to that the mask and the gear he wore most of the time, he wasn’t exactly inviting, setting implicit boundaries. The primary purpose was to protect his identity while striking fear into his opponents in the field, though he would be lying if he said he didn’t like the reactions he got when he casually roamed the base, enjoyed it even; people not daring to approach him. He played around with it sometimes, terrifying new recruits just by appearing by there side out of nowhere, he had a reputation to uphold after all.
He should have known being exposed and vulnerable would alter his usual demeanour. His voice was intimidating when he was Ghost as well, he knew that, he had made a conscious effort to use his “civilian” voice tonight. He hadn’t expected these changes to attract casual touches though. His tall frame hadn’t changed. He glanced at his watch he’d been here for 53 minutes.
Three new people came in to join Soap’s group buying another round for the table. The fighting couple had left without him noticing. Simon was on his third glass of bourbon, Soap came bumping into him making him almost spill the rest of his drink. Bloody hell, he smelled good as well.
“Sorry about that mate” he said with a huge grin, not sorry at all.
“ Cleo, could you get Sam-Samuel another bourbon and I’ll have 3 Porn stars, 5 Coke Zero, a pitcher of Woo Woo with 4 glasses, 3 G&Ts and 4 shots of tequila special please?”
“Coming right up”
“Cheers, luv”
Soap turned to Simon “So. Sam, do ye always go tae strange bars on your own?”
“I usually travel alone for work so, yes”
“And what kind of work is that?”
“I am a sales representative for a heavy equipment manufacturer” Simon replied finishing his drink.
The corner of Soap’s mouth lifted and one of his eyebrows went up “Exactly how heavy are we talking about?” Simon smirked and inched closer to Soap conspiratorially “Very” Soap barked out a laugh before being interrupted by Sof bringing the bourbon Soap had ordered for Simon.
“You’re not getting those shots, Soap”
Soap rolled his eyes at her “They’re no for me, obviously!”
“Alright then, your friends can come and drink their shots here”
Soap groaned “Come on Sof, it’s ma last day”
“What time is your flight again?”
“Do ye realise this could be the last time ye see me? Do ye want us to part on hurtful terms?”
“Don’t be dramatic, no shots for you!” and she went to the other side of the bar to finish up the order.
Simon’s interest was piqued “Where is that flight to?” Soap’s pout turned into a proud grin. “New job, I’ve just been transferred. Had a few weeks home before I start”
“You sound excited”
“Aye am, A’ll be working with the best team out there” he replied dreamily and continued quietly “A’ll do my best no to disappoint them” staring at his hands on the bar. Fuck he was adorable.
“I’m sure you will Johnny” Soap smiled at his hands before meeting Simon’s eyes, beaming “Cheers mate!” he said tapping Simon’s shoulder. No, Simon did not lean into the touch he just happened to be repositioning on his stool at the same time.
“Your orders ready Soap.” He turned to his table to signal his cousin to come help.
“Thanks for the drink” Simon said as he took a sip.
“Ye’re very welcome Sam” As he turned to the bar and did not watch Soap go, Simon could have sworn Cleo and Sof quickly looked away from his side of the bar before exchanging side glances. Simon sighed and took a big gulp 50 minutes to go.
This was easier than he thought it would be, which started to worry him. Was he doing it wrong? Was he hiding behind another façade? Maybe Sam was another mask. He thought about it for a while, went through the interactions of the night; Sof, Cleo, Mohawk, Soap, Johnny the way the skin around his eyes crinkled when he smiled, his cute little pout, his daft grin, his arms, the curve of his arse. Nope. Nope, Simon was definitely the one who was there to enjoy all that. Sam was nothing more than a name.
It was freeing, being able to be himself without consequences. Just a taste, a short parenthesis and tomorrow he’ll go back to his regular life with all the shit he had to deal with. This could never be is life, he knew that, but maybe someday he could get something in between. He was lost in thought when he felt a hand grab his calf.
It took all he had to fight his instinct to attack whoever was down there. With his hands tight into fists he looked down and of course the little menace was crouched down behind the bar smiling up at him with huge eyes and a finger over his lips. Hell he could be stealthy.
“Don’t get agitated it’s just me” he loudly whispered giving a meaningful look and a nod towards the bar while keeping the finger to his lips.
“What the fuck are you doing down there” Simon could barely contain a laugh.
“Don’t look at me” Simon readjusted his seat and fixed his gaze on his glass while still keeping Soap in his peripheral vision.
“Could ye order a shot for me?” Simon scoffed as he raised his eyes to the ceiling. He kept his eyes straight forward as he replied “I feel like I should remind you you have a flight tomorrow morning”
“One shot willnae hurt. Go on Sam” he begged as he squeezed his calf once again.
Simon didn’t need to look down to see the pout on his face. He sighed “Alright what do you want”
“Cheers mate! Tequila special please”
Simon emptied out his glass and waved to Cleo. “A shot of tequila special this time please”
Cleo turned to Sof at the other side of the bar “Sof, a shot of tequila special over here”
Sof came over grabbing a clear bottle and a shot glass on her way. She shook the bottle before serving it. Little specks of gold were dancing in the liquid. “3.90, luv” he passed her a fiver and they both turned away. When he was sure they weren’t looking his way, he passed the glass under the bar. A second later he heard dry heaves coming from below. As he was turning to look in alarm, Soap shot up from his hiding place.
“SOF! YE BAWBAG! Are ye trying tae kill me?!? How dare ye try tae poison me?!?”
“Yer maw’s the bawbag! No shots for you Soap!”
He slammed the drink on the bar and went back to his booth in a huff. Simon was in shock, Cleo and Sof we’re both bent in half laughing. When they recovered, Cleo placed a bourbon on the bar for Simon as they grabbed the offending shot and downed it. They then pointed at Simon with the hand still holding the glass “You should work on your poker face” He took note before asking “What just happened?”
“See, two years ago, Soap discovered this” they picked up the bottle shaking it a bit more to show off the gold flecks, unscrewing the cap, they offered the bottle for Simon to smell. It was very sweet and smelled strongly of cinnamon. “The lad fell in love with it, went on a bender and ended up sick for 2 days. He’s been unable to even smell it without gagging ever since. He’s even wary of cinnamon pastry, avoids mulled wine around Christmas. If you ask him about it, he’ll go on for hours concluding it ruined his life. Wee bit dramatic that one.”
“That he is” he chuckled.
With 30 minutes left he went to the bathroom, he observed his reflection as he was washing his hands, he still looked the same. His skin hadn’t started to dissolve from too much exposure to the environment.
Soap was coming his way when he got out to go back to the bar. He was 2 steps away and smiling at him when suddenly he saw something to Simon’s right, closed the distance, grabbed Simon’s hips and hid between his back and the wall.
“Soap, what the fuck are you doing?”
“Hiding, obviously” Maybe he should reassess his previous judgment about his stealth.
“I gathered that, but what are you hiding from”
“See the redhead bloke talking tae the guy in a blue suit at 2 o’clock? That’s my ex”
Simon furrowed his brow, his fingers twitched “Bad break up?”
“What? Naw no really. He’s nice enough and also the most boring person ye’ll ever meet.”
Simon relaxed.
“If he sees me, he’ll want to chat and he’ll join our group and A’ll be too polite to say naw and A dinnae want tae spent my last night here being bored tae tears.”
“He was leaving the bathroom when I entered it, his conversation should not last for much longer. He’s in the second booth to the right of the entrance, arrived about 45 minutes ago with a blond woman and two brown haired men.”
“Caity, Finn and Greig A’d wager. Wee creepy you know all that.”
“I like to observe”
Soap moved his hands slightly upwards toward his waist. Fuck that tickles. That tickles. Simon reflexively removed his hands from him, turned around and pinned his arm to his sides. “Stop moving” He was towering over Soap who was just staring up at him in awe.
“Ye’re stunning, d’ye know that?”
Simon paused then rolled his eyes “He’ll head at 10 o’clock to go back to his booth, he’ll have his back turned to us on the way but wait until he’s back in his seat, he won’t be able to see you once he’s down” Soap nodded and quirked an eyebrow “What do we do in the meantime?”
Simon was still touching him, that never happened either, him touching other people. He let go of his arms more abruptly than he wanted to and sighed “We wait” he said pointedly. Which should be easy enough except Simon found himself missing Soap’s touch. They were close, though not enough to his taste. He was then saved by the rudeness of a stranger who bumped so hard on his back that he had to catch himself on the wall on each side of Soap, boxing him in. Soap’s hand had automatically shot up to his stomach to catch him and stayed there gently feeling his abs “That’s more like it” Soap whispered.
His heart was pounding out of his chest, Simon didn’t dare move. Soap did. He straightened up and leaned forward to peek over his right shoulder, breathing into his neck. “He’s finishing up, he’ll be heading tae his booth in a second” His lips brushed his neck as he spoke, they brushed his fucking neck. Simon’s breath was caught in his throat, he wanted to hum an acknowledgment but it came out more like a groan than anything else. For all his planning and all his contingency plans, he had no plan for this. His cock was straining against his jeans. This was embarrassing. “He’s heading back” Soap breathed into his neck. When he leaned back he stared right into Simon eyes and he must have seen something he liked there because his face broke into a huge triumphant smile. He peeked to his left to check his ex had reached his seat and grabbed Simon’s hand “Follow me”.
Simon hesitated “Where?”
“Just follow me ye daftie”
Simon thought he didn’t care much for being called “daftie” as he blindly followed Soap back the way he came except instead of turning right to the bathroom, he continued straight ahead to a door next to the emergency exit. He watched Soap lift the door and at the same turning the knob and it clicked open “Ta daaa! See? Knowing the bartenders is no all assassination attempts” he said with a smirk as he pulled Simon in and closed the door behind him.
Simon had a fraction of a second to take in the small storage space, the shelves packed with cleaning supplies and Soap was on him, crowding him against the door. “Stop me at any time alright?” he asked. Simon nodded and grabbed Soap’s hips, he suddenly needed as little space as possible between them.
In the dim lighting, he could still discern Soap’s face looking up at him with that goofy grin. Soap’s hand reached his cheek, his thumb gently traced up and down the long scar extending from his temple to his nose. Simon closed his eyes, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt someone else’s skin against his face. He leaned into it and when he opened his eyes Soap pulled him down to crush their lips together. When his lips started moving it was soft and sweet. He tasted like vanilla and passion fruit not unpleasant. Soap put his free arm around Simon’s back and grabbed his arse. Simon responded by tightening his hold on his hips, tentatively pressing into him feeling his hard cock through all the layers of fabric separating them.
He gently pushed his tongue past Soap’s lips which earned him a small moan, it was the most arousing sound he’d ever heard. He grabbed Soap’s arse and lifted him so he could deepen the kiss, Soap chortled in surprise, hooking his legs around him and rolling his hips against his. The friction shot hot flashes of pleasure to all of Simon’s extremities “Fuck” he could feel Soap’s smirking against his lips. He leaned back and started kissing down Simon’s jaw then down his neck to the spot he was breathing into earlier. Simon looked up to the ceiling to offer him an easier access, pressing his eyes shut, trying to hold the whines escaping from his mouth. Soap was gently nibbling at his neck still rolling his hips letting out soft moans that went straight to Simon’s cock.
He was holding on to Soap like his life depended on it, his arse, his thighs, his back. Then he unhooked his legs to stand before Simon. Simon’s hands went to his hair, that stupid haircut. He found his mouth and desperately resumed their kiss it was delicious, passionate and sloppy, he couldn’t get enough. Soap’s hand went under his hoodie to unbutton his jeans. As soon as he was done, he plunged his hand down inside his boxer and started stroking Simon’s cock. Simon groaned into his mouth as he grabbed a handful of Soap’s hair and pulled, biting his bottom lip. The Scot let out a loud grunt which Simon tried to silence with his mouth. Soap gently rubbed his thumb against his head spreading the pre-cum that was already leaking abundantly. Simon almost lost it right then.
Simon went for Soap’s cock, he fumbled a bit in his eagerness, they both laughed into each other. He finally got the jeans and boxers down to his thighs and squeezed his arse then reached for his cock and gave him an experimental stroke. Soap whined loudly.
“Take off your pants all the way” Simon asked.
“We don’t have much time to-”
“I know, just do it you daftie” he said smirking.
Soap looked at him with a crooked smile “Aye, okay”. As Soap was bending over, Simon lowered his own to free his cock. Soap shot up with wide eyes reaching for his cock.
“Bloody Jesus! You wernae lying”
“Well, it’s proportionate”
“Aye more than that A’d reckon”
Simon chuckled “Shut up, you’re above average as well”
“Aye but nothing compared to that monst-” Simon grabbed him by the hips, succeeding in shutting him up and turned them around to press Soap between his chest and the door and buried his face in the Scots neck gently biting and sucking below the collar of his t-shirt. Soap’s legs had once again hooked around Simon’s hips and he was rolling his hips chasing more and more friction. Simon leaned back, supporting Soap with one arm around his lower back bruising his hips. He fisted both their leaking cocks with his free hand. He spit between them and started stroking. Soap’s cock was shorter but thicker than his. He looked up to comment on it but was met with the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen; Soap his mouth hanging slightly open pupils blown wide and a look of utter adoration on his face. Simon was suddenly hyper aware of his own face, he tried to feel his expression. What was he seeing? He felt himself blush, he couldn’t take it. He reclaimed Soap’s mouth determined to swallow every single sounds he was making. The knot forming in his lower abdomen was getting impossible ignore, the pressure too much to bear. “Am gonnae cum” Soap whined.
Simon lifted Soap’s shirt as high as he could, Soap did the same for him. Two strokes later Soap came loudly, the sounds he produced took Simon over the edge. He was blinded while riding wave after wave of pleasure. When he came down his forehead was resting on Soap’s both breathing heavily. He watched Soap open his eyes, he leaned in to kiss him softly. Simon pulled away to look around, without shifting position he grabbed some paper towels and some wipes to clean them up. When he was done, Soap hopped down, Simon handed him his pants and boxers. They both got dressed in silence. Soap slipped his shoes on and looked him over then looked down at himself.
“Presentable?”
“Your hair is a mess” Soap lifted his hand to check the damage
“Cheers for that”
“Couldn’t resist”
“Alright A’ll go fix it before A go back in” He kissed Simon, turned around and opened the door.
“See you out there”
“Yeah”
He watched Soap disappear in the bathroom, followed after him and closed the door to the storage room. As he walked back to the main room, a cold sensation took hold of his chest he felt eyes on him from all sides, he felt exposed. He put his mask on, passing the bar he nodded at Cleo and Sof who waved at him, he headed for the exit as fast as he could. The cold air outside was a relief, he took a deep breath feeling like he had been drowning, looking down at his watch he checked the time. 2 hours and 14 minutes.
He wasn’t convinced it had been a success, though his therapist thought it was. He thought he should have concentrated on the absence of the mask and be mindful of his emotions. Instead he had been distracted by Soap most of the time.
***
One week later
***
“Marines are loading in now. You and the Sergeant are leading the way on this.”
“The Sergeant?”
“Soap MacTavish” No.
“Let's get ourselves a win, yeah, L.T.? Save ye a seat, sir...”
“Fucking hell...”