Okay but shielding Simon’s face with your hands when your make out session gets interrupted !!!
A/N: Short shitty little drabble because I’m obsessed with this idea but life is crazy and I have no energy to write lol.
Warnings: heavy make out sesh, but still pretty sfw. Some swearing. Soft Ghost :,)
You haven’t seen each other in weeks, separate missions keeping you two apart for longer than usual.
Typically you were sent on missions together, but this time Price had sent Ghost out solo, only to send you out on a recon mission just before Ghost’s return, resulting in Simon waiting another two weeks for you to get back. But once he heard word that you were back on base, he sought you out immediately.
He found you in the mess hall, sitting across from Soap, thoroughly engaged in conversation while enjoying the first hot meal you’d had in days.
“So then the bastard says—“ you’re cut off just before the punchline, your words falling flat as you catch Ghost’s eyes from across the room. A subtle nod of his head was all the signal you need to be up and moving, meal long forgotten as a new kind of hunger takes over. You abruptly stand up, leaving behind a half-full plate and a very confused Sergeant. “Wait, what did he say?” Soap shouts out after you, his thick eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
You two didn’t even make it to the barracks, turning instead down an empty hallway and through an unlocked door. A swift glance around the room told Ghost it was secure and deserted, and that was all he needed before pressing your body up against the shut door, ripping his mask off, and pressing his lips to yours. You two have had your fair share of passionate kisses, but this was something entirely different. Your small gasp of surprise melts into a moan as Simon deepens the kiss, pressing you into the door.
“God I’ve missed ya,” Simon grounds out between kisses, “so fucking much, love.”
You’d never seen Simon this fervent, this unrestrained before. The distance had awakened something in him and it thrilled you to your core. The kiss was frantic, his large hands gripped your waist, fingers digging in as if he couldn’t believe you were actually here in front of him. And then he was lifting you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his thick frame, arms going around his neck to press him closer as he carries you across the dark room to the empty desk before setting you atop it.
“Been waiting too fucking long for this,” Simon’s breathless between kisses, your quickened breaths matching him. “Needed you here, with me.”
Simon stands between your legs, one hand still attached to your waist, the other coming up to cup your cheek as he works your mouth open with his tongue, the kiss deepening even further.
And then, without warning, the door flew open, light flooding the space. One of the newer recruits stood in the doorway, frozen in shock, clearly uncertain just what exactly he was walking in on. Instantly, Simon buries his face in the crook of your neck at the same time that you bring your hands up to help shield Simon’s bare face. You thank every lucky star out there that his back is to the open door as you feel every muscle in his body tense up.
“Get. Out.” Simon growls out between gritted teeth, and a shiver races down your spine at the menacing tone, the threat clear in every syllable.
The poor soldier looked terrified, muttering a jumbled apology before frantically slamming the door shut and taking off.
Silence follows for the next few heartbeats. Simon’s forehead falls against your shoulder as he lets out a few heavy breaths. The intrusion had startled you both. Your hands drift from their protective shield around his face to tangle in his hair, pulling him into you.
“I’m gonna fucking kill him for interrupting us, love.” Simon’s warm breath tickles your sensitive skin and you feel a soft kiss press to your neck.
“I might just let you,” you tease, turning to face Simon and meeting his dark eyes with your own.
“There’s no way he saw anything,” you reassure, still feeling the tension in Simon’s body.
A small hmph is all you got in return though as Simon straightened up and reached across the desk for his mask. You took the mask from his hands, pressing one more kiss to those beloved lips before sliding the balaclava over his head and adjusting it. And just like that, your Ghost is standing in front of you.
He presses a kiss to the top of your head through the mask. “Nuh uh, don’t give me that look, love,” he mutters against your hair. “Don’t worry, I’m not done with you yet,” he reassures, one hand trailing up your spine. “Just got to find a room with a bloody lock on it.”