10 A.M- Ghost x plus size reader
-Summary : Every day on leave Ghost watches his neighbor at 10AM during his smoke break. Will it lead to more ? (yes, especially with Johnny involed.)
-(Sorry in advance, English is not my first language, so sorry if it's bad or OOC. And I've posted it on ao3 months ago, so it's normal if you feel like a déjà vu)
-10 am. The ballet was starting.
-A foot missing a step, a groan of pain, clothes thrown on the ground, and an apple bitten into hastily. Breakfast was beginning, and the curtain rose, giving Simon the perfect view of his neighbor's daily spectacle across the landing.
-Eyes so sunken they rivaled his own, hands with nails cut short—Simon wondered why so short, perhaps their job? A habit? And their body, all curves.
-That's what had caught his attention in the hallway the first time.
-Such a ominous building welcoming such a pure ray of sunshine like them, Simon couldn't help but bask in their warmth from the shadows.
-A glint in a corridor had eventually become a routine. When Simon smoked on his balcony, they would open their curtains, and slowly, without knowing it, their routines became intertwined at certain hours of the day, briefly filling Simon's respites with a bit of humanity.
-"What are ye lookin’ at?"
-"Nothing that concerns you, Johnny."
-"L.T, come on." Johnny, curious, stepped onto the balcony, but they were already gone.
-"I’ve put up with you enough, stop pokin’ your nose in."
-"Ye volunteered when Price asked who could help me with my cast during our leave. Because Gaz was with his fiancée and Price with his sister. That's friendship."
-"Pity," Ghost corrected him.
-"It still means I make ye feel things, L.T."
-"Yes, and it's exasperation."
-"Seriously, what were ye starin’ at? I mean, apart from the poor garden, there's nothin’."
-Simon ignored him. One word and he knew what Johnny would say.
-"Talk to them. You have nothing to lose."
-Worse, the Scotsman might set up a situation where he'd end up stuck in an elevator with them. The explosives expert knew much more about physics and math than he let on.
-"By th’ way, have ye ever had someone in yer life, L.T.?"
-“…”
-"I see, we're playin’ neither yes nor no?"
-"We're playin’ 'no personal questions.'"
-"I'll tak’ that as a yes. Ah wonder whit yer type is? Redhead? Blonde? Brunette? Tall? Short? Or maybe brown, green, blue, gray eyes?"
-"People who don't ask questions."
-"Damn, rejected like that."
-"That's enough, Johnny."
-"Okay, I… would ye introduce me if ye ever had someone in yer life, no?"
-"No."
-"What?! Come on, I'm adorable!"
-"And invasive."
-"I left a sock lyin’ around one time." Soap remembered the incident.
-"In a frying pan."
-"It was an accident."
-Ghost sighed. His gaze shifted to the window; damn, he wished he could catch a glimpse of them for a moment, to gain some strength. As if his prayer had been heard, the window opened, their head appeared, watering their plants.
-"I see, so it wasn't just a cigarette," Johnny said with a smug smile.
-Unfortunately, that also meant they'd just watered trouble for Ghost.
-"Johnny."
-"I'm just saying they’re beautiful, that's all."
-"Not a word."
-"So… the curves?"
-"Johnny," Simon repeated, annoyed.
-"Okay, not a word."
-A silence fell, but Simon couldn't stand Soap's trembling leg.
-"One question." He eventually gave in.
-"How long?"
-"None."
-"What?"
-"We're not dating."
-"So a crush, huh?"
-"We're not in high school anymore."
-"But ye have a crush on yer neighbor like a teenager."
-"Johnny," Simon warned him.
-Soap backed off before grinning smugly.
-"I get it, I'd be the same if they were my neighbor, they seem cute," he added
-"Johnny, damn it," Ghost sighed, his cheeks slightly tinged with red.
-Soap laughed.
-"It's cute. I guess ye won't talk tae them?"
-"No. Not with our profession, not with my personality. they deserve better."
-"Even fur one night?"
-"I don't want a one-night stand, not with them."
-"I see, condemned to yearn, a wee bit sad."
-Simon didn't reply; it was his routine. Observe, analyze, and act. His strategy had been clear from the start: do nothing.
-So he finished his cigarette, hoping it would be 10 am again soon to relive this peaceful anticipation. The sun set, and it all began again.
-5 am, wake up. 6 am, jogging. 7 am, back, ready to take a shower and face Johnny.
-"Oh, sorry."
-But sometimes routines break. Simon watched his neighbor, struggling to move a too-heavy piece of furniture up the stairs.
-"Can I help you?"
-"I… I don't want to bother you, especially since you just came back from exercising—"
-"It's nothing."
-He carried what looked like a wardrobe to their landing.
-"Thanks again. I… I don't know if you knew, but we're neighbors. My name's y/n, I moved in there after Matilda. I know they wasn't… well-liked?"
-"We could say that."
-"No need to downplay it; I know they threw tomatoes at all the doors, ripped up their garbage on all the landings, and dismantled a door by mistake."
-"Hm."
-"I mean, at 80, it's impressive," y/n laughed.
-"For sure," he chuckled.
-"So, you're Smith, right?"
-Oh yes, the fake name on his mailbox.
-"Yeah."
-"Well, thank you, Mr. Smith. Honestly, I don't know how I would've managed without you. I told my roommate that having such a big wardrobe was pointless, but they never listens to me."
-"Roommate?"
-"Yeah, she lives with me. their name's Léa, maybe you've met her? Tall, blonde."
-"Hm."
-"She always wakes up late, and I wake up early, so we kind of live in the dark in the apartment, like real vampires. Perhaps you know her ?"
-"Thank you, Léa," Simon thought. Without her, he'd never catch sight of y/n on their balcony.
-"No, I don't think so."
-"I see. Do you have a roommate too?"
-"At the moment, yes, but it's temporary."
-"Oh, I see, a friend crashing. Happens."
-"Actually, he takes care o’ me," a voice said.
-If Simon could slow down his reaction, he'd be sure to see panic. Johnny, smiling, approached and introduced himself.
-"John, nice tae meet ye. This big guy keeps an ee on me, wi’ ma broken arm."
-"Oh, I see, that's not easy. Nice to meet you."
-"Ye ken, I was plannin’ tae make some muffins; I thought if ye like them, we could maybe give ye some since this guy doesnae like sweet stuff."
-"Johnny."
-"What, you don't like them?" y/n asked, surprised.
-"I… it's not my thing, that's all."
-"I see," y/n smiled. "Why not, okay, well, I mean don't poison us, but okay."
-"I'm no’ sure that would convince anyone no’ tae poison ye," John replied.
-"Maybe, but does it work on you?"
-"Aye," Johnny laughed.
-y/n thanked them and closed their door. Soap, with a victorious smile, looked at Simon.
-"Don't start."
-"We're makin’ progress, L.T, recon mission wit’ introduction."
-"This isn't a mission."
-"Of course, it is. Gaz agrees wi’ me."
-"Gaz knows?!"
-"It's the 21st century, L.T, phones are magical."
-"No."
-"By the way, if they ask for yer number, ye'll have to give them one that's not disposable…"
-"There won't be a number."
-"I bet there will be; they seem nice."
-"They thanked me for a favor; it's just politeness."
-"If ye say so."
-"Nothing's going to happen, Johnny."
-"We'll see."
---------------------
-"I was thinking we should exchange numbers! It's always handy, for dog sitting, plant watering, breakdowns, broken showers, or anything else."
-Soap looked at him triumphantly. Certainly, it wasn't y/n asking, but Léa, after accepting their muffins and inviting them inside. But Soap saw the papers with the two different numbers, indicating that y/n's was included.
-"For sure, but isn't a roommate kind o’ a hassle? I mean, I remember wi’ other folk’s boyfriends an’ girlfriends, it can get awkward," Soap asked.
-"For that, there would have to be some," Simon replied.
-"What dae ye mean?" "Well, I'm not interested, and y/n… they…"
-Léa seemed hesitant.
-"New acquaintances aren't really their thing, with social anxiety, you know."
-Simon raised an eyebrow. they had seemed so calm. He was also accustomed to social avoidance, so y/n's reaction to him surprised him, unless they had grown accustomed to his presence before. But that would mean he was a familiar face to them. Which would imply…
-That at 10 am, he wasn't the only one watching.
-A warm feeling filled his heart.
-"Why are ye smiling?" Soap murmured as they returned to his apartment. "It's bad news if they's as bad as you at talking, you'll be together when Price runs out of beanies to wear."
-"Hm, if you say so."
-"L.T, tell me, I ken ye ken something."
-"Soap, it's none of your business."
-"The code name, really?"
- "Johnny."
- "Simon."
-Neither broke eye contact; Johnny eventually sighed and raised his only free hand in surrender. Ghost nodded.
-He looked forward to the next 10 am.
________________________________
-At 10 am, with a cigarette in his mouth, they were there. their eyes on their hands. He smiled. Target acquired. How could he have missed it?
-Using his hands, he executed a slight sign of recognition. they jumped, surprised he had noticed them; he smirked. they responded with a hand waving back. He signaled for them to open the window.
-"Nice view?" he asked.
-"On such a shabby garden, no," they replied, ignoring his implication.
-"I meant the neighborhood.”
-"Well, not everyone can have a balcony."
-"Or a pretty neighbor."
-"I—"
-"Have a good day, y/n." He went back inside.
-Nothing will happen, my ass, Soap muttered as he watched him.
_______________________________
-Slowly, it became his game. Spotting y/n, signaling to them, and lightly flirting.
-It was nothing. Just a game of cat and mouse, that's all. It wouldn't lead to anything, he kept telling himself. But every day he waited for them.
-Praying that Price wouldn't call him. But apparently this time his thoughts weren't heard; Soap was sent to the base under someone else's watch, and Price called him for a mission. 10 a.m. should wait.
____________________
-"Mr. Smith?"
-Tired. Covered in mud, smelling of powder. Simon was back after three months, his eyes empty, his face covered, only his eyes remained. y/n stood in the hall, in pajamas, letters in hand, probably looking for their mail at... 1 a.m.? Who would do that?
-"y/n.”
-“ Everything alright? You're soaked. You know if you have a dryer problem, we have one."
-"Everything's fine."
-"I see. I... I got worried because I didn't see you around, I wondered if something happened to you."
-His cowardly heart quickened at this concern.
-"It was nothing, just work."
-"I see, you travel a lot then."
-"Yeah, you could say that."
-"Must be tiring, never... feeling at home, right?"
-Simon couldn't get a word in. He had never thought about it, in his childhood home, his sanctuary, he had never thought about it as his home, so as he grew up, he had no attachment to a place.
-"Not really."
-"Not a homebody?"
-"Yeah, but just a bit."
-"I... sorry, I'm asking questions while you're exhausted, I'm really sorry."
-"No need to apologize, such a pretty face coming home erases all fatigue."
-they frowned their eyebrows..
-"Do you mean that or is it for Léa?"
-Simon was surprised by the sharper tone.
-"Léa?"
-"If you want to get closer to Léa, please don't use me. I... honestly, all this flirting is confusing, if it's her, then don't use me."
-"I don't want Léa."
-"Oh." y/n paused, “then why?"
-"I don't know, why do people flirt, y/n?"
-"You."
-"Me."
-"So all this time..."
-"I'm eagerly waiting for 10 a.m., y/n."
-"I-, I'm sorry, I just thought you really liked Léa, I let my insecurities take over without even thinking about that, and I apologize for that."
-"No worries, now everything is clear. Goodnight y/n and see you tomorrow morning."
-"See you tomorrow morning, Mr. Smith."
-"Simon."
-"Hm?"
-"Call me Simon."
-Maybe Soap was right; he knew from the beginning that this wouldn't just be a flirt.
______________________________
-At 10 a.m., Simon noticed a blanket on his balcony. Hand-knitted with a post-it.
-"I'm not there today, but you seemed cold in the morning, so welcome back and have a good day."
-Slowly, he took the soft fabric. Draping it over his shoulders, he closed his eyes, letting the nicotine escape from his mouth.
-He knew he shouldn't. A part of him screamed not to trust, to flee. But he was so tired. He, too, wanted to go home and have that smile.
-Suddenly, the blanket felt too cold, the nicotine too bitter, and the balcony too narrow.
-What was he doing dreaming of a normal life?
-Simon was officially dead, flesh living for a task force. He shouldn't even think of the hope of surviving long. He had given up on that. Slowly, he placed the blanket back on the balcony. The window was closing. He decided that maybe the 10 a.m. breaks weren't a good idea.
___________________________
-"You ken, it's no’ Pokémon, L.T."
-"Johnny," Ghost calibrated his rifle as the car swerved through the bends.
-"What's he talking about?" Gaz, in uniform beside them, ready for the mission, asked.
-"Our dear L.T. fled like a Pokémon facin’ its neighbor."
-"My life is none of your business."
-"Ye're missin’ something extraordinary, obviously. They just told ye it's mutual, an’ there ye are, runnin’ away. Imagine what ye’re sayin’ tae them."
-"It's better for them."
-"Coward."
-Simon looked away. It was better this way. Proof was, he was off again to risk his life for two months. No one wanted a life like this.
-y/n didn't know about Ghost, didn't know about the PTSD, about Tommy, about Joseph. He was just the slightly mysterious neighbor from the balcony.
-"They know nothing, it's better this way."
-"Maybe he's right, Soap. Some people aren't meant to be with soldiers," Gaz tried to reason.
-"He's just using runnin’ away as a defense mechanism, Gaz."
-Simon ignored the rest. The voices were blurring. He had to stay away from y/n; their warmth could burn him if he got too close.
_______________________
-Dead.
-He held the dead girl's body in his arms.
-Riddled with bullets, their poor little hands weakly holding onto Ghost's uniform in a last hope for life.
-The blood on his hands wouldn't go away. He washed, scrubbed, scraped, over and over.
-The blood remained on his hands.
-He had to save them.
-He had failed.
-The mission was a success.
-But everyone was dead.
-The coldness of the body wouldn't go away.
-The shower didn't help; no matter how hard he scrubbed, increasing the heat, nothing could rid him of the horror.
-His breathing wouldn't calm, his vision darkening, his legs trembling.
-He knew what was happening.
-Slowly he sat on the floor, the sound of water deafening, his ears ringing, the hot and cold alternating in his body, sweat increasing. A panic attack.
-"One, two, three." He repeated. Trying to calm himself, he began counting again. One, two, three.
-But the numbers tangled, and the memories seemed so real. The girl's body seemed to be at his feet. He knew it was impossible; he was in a shower, in a terrible apartment, not on the battlefield. But nothing could be done about it.
-"Mr. Smith?"
-Everything shattered. His bubble burst, and suddenly reality hit him. Getting up, staggering, he grabbed a towel and walked to his front door out of habit.
-"Yes?" he managed to say, his hoarse voice scratching his throat.
-"I'm sorry to interrupt, but our shower exploded, and I was wondering if you knew about it or if you could let me borrow yours because I... I'm a bit covered in ink."
-He opened his door completely, and...
-y/n, hands covered in blue ink, even their nose staring at him wide-eyed. Remembering his attire consisting only of a towel, he closed the door.
-"I'll get dressed and be right there."
-"Yes, I- sorry again, I didn't know you were in the shower."
-He didn't reply. Damn it, he had promised not to let their into his life.
-Putting on a hoodie and sweatpants, he opened his door.
-"On the left at the back." He indicated in a slightly dry tone. His thoughts still roughed up after his panic attack.
-Noticing that y/n wasn't moving, he frowned.
-"I wanted to know if I offended you? I don't know if I'm imagining something, but it looks like you're avoiding me?"
-Not as discreet as he thought.
-"I was busy."
-"I see. If I offended you anyway, I apologize."
-"It's not your fault, y/n."
-"Oh."
-"Just... shitty job."
-"PTSD?"
-Simon stopped.
-"The walls are thin, you can hear the girl from the fifth floor sneezing, so you can imagine that your screams at night..." She added.
-"I see."
-"My father had it too, if you ever need help, well not psychological help, that's more for a therapist, but support, I can." y/n said anxiously.
-He blew air out of his nose.
-"Military father?"
-"Cop," they replied.
-Simon noticed the underlying tension.
-"Not on good terms?"
-"Few people get along with their father, right?"
-"Some do."
-"Do you?"
-"No."
-They smiled.
-"To rotten fathers, then.
-“To rotten fathers. Now I suppose you should hurry if you don't want the ink to dry on your hands."*
- "Oh shit, yeah."
-Y/n rushed into the shower. When they returned a few moments later, Simon watched them.
-"Any reason for this ink explosion?"
-"It's ridiculous,”they said, but Simon motioned for them to sit down.
-"Go ahead."
- "I like... tattooing. I don't have the talent, but I like to try tattooing fake skins in my spare time, but my blue ink exploded so I tried to use the shower but it looks like we have a plumbing problem."
-"Tattooing?"
-"Yeah, but it's nothing crazy, just a hobby."
-He nodded.
-"Well, I'll get going." they murmured.
-Ghost wanted to hold their back. His hand reaching out reflexively, he thought better of it.
_______________________________
-"So?"
-"So what? Didn't you listen to Price during the briefing?" Ghost replied to Soap.
-"Ah’m nae talkin’ about that, but the GIL mission."
-"Gil?"
-"Ghost in love."
-"I'm not in love."
-"Hmm, so nae progress wi’ the neighbor?"
-"Soap."
-The Scot stopped. Feeling the blue-eyed gaze not leaving him for a moment, Ghost sighed.
-"We talked again."
-"Ah!"
-“Shower problem, they needed one."
-"Is that it?"
-"We're neighbors."
-"That's disappointin’."
-"Thanks, Johnny." Ghost replied sarcastically.
-Simon spared the details. It wasn't just a shower, but a shower during the two weeks of leave he had had.
-With the plumber unable to find the problem, y/n and Léa had somewhat cohabited with Simon for that brief moment. Maybe... he had shared more teas with y/n than he admitted.
-Even if he wanted to flee, to shut himself off, to reject y/n, he crawled for a crumb of their attention.
_____________
-Returning from his mission, Simon walked through the hall when he heard it. Cries echoing in the corridor.
-His landing.
-Knowing that Madeline, the other neighbor on the landing, couldn't cry due to death, it was either Léa or y/n.
-Approaching, he noticed a silhouette sitting on the doormat. y/n. they seemed to be trying to pick up debris from the floor, their hands bleeding.
-Worried at the sight of the red liquid, he walked towards them without thinking, examining their wounds. Pieces of metal and glass were in their hand.
-"Simon," they managed to articulate between sobs.
-"What happened?"
-"It's stupid, honestly, I'm ridiculous crying over this, but... a box fell and broke my tattoo machine. I know I could buy a new one, but that... it broke me?"
-Ghost was relieved it wasn't anything serious. He nodded.
-"It's not a big deal, it's your passion."
-"I know, but an artist doesn't cry when they run out of lead with their pencil."
-"Well, then they should invest in tons of tissues," Simon joked.
-They laughed through the tears.
-"It's just... everything, I guess. I'm tired, I have a shitty job, I thought I'd finally make it with my fake skins, and now my machine breaks like a sign."
-"Not a sign," Simon said. "Don't give up. Now let me look at this; we'd want to avoid infection and stitches."
-They nodded and followed Simon into his apartment. Ghost's expert hands treating theirs.
-"The tattoo," Simon began. "It's not just a passion, is it?"
-"I... it was my dream for a while."
-"'Was'?"
-"My parents wanted something safe, I didn't know anatomy, people drew better than me. At 13, I was the artist of the class, the little prodigy, at 18 I was just an artist like everyone else. I had nothing... extraordinary, so I gave up."
-Simon nodded.
-"I don't think so," he finally added, finishing their bandage.
-"What?"
-"That you gave up. You may think so, but practicing so hard, continuing to do it every day, it seems like you've always held on."
-"I... never saw it like that."
-"Plus, who wouldn't dream of being tattooed by an angel?"
-"Simon!"
-He smiled.
-"I missed... our exchanges," they whispered.
-He stopped.
-"Me too."
-"Okay, so are we starting fresh? No more running away?"
-"I can't promise that."
-"Oh."
-"I was talking about constant exchange, I've been... an asshole thinking I was doing the right thing, but it seems obvious that no matter my efforts, our paths intersect."
-"So you'll stop running?" y/n asked, their eyes meeting his.
-"For now," Simon finally said.
-"I see, cool," y/n said.
-"Cool," he repeated, squeezing their hand.
-They got up and left. Simon let his eyes wander over their curves.
-Fuck.
_____________
- "Not a word, Johnny," Ghost said, putting his things down.
-"I didnae say anythin’!" the Scotsman complained, entering the briefing room.
-"I know what you were going to ask, and no."
-"So it's progressin’."
-"Johnny."
-"Okay. Just... ye're allowed tae be happy, L.T."
-"Hm."
-Simon avoided his gaze, his attention on Price. The captain questioned Simon with his eyes, Simon indicated with the same look that he would explain later.
________________
-“Ten o'clock breaks are nicer on a balcony."
-"Really? I thought you preferred waking up in the dark and stumbling around looking for your window," Ghost joked.
-y/n laughed. "Mean. It's cool to see the other side," they said, blowing on the tea Ghost had made.
-Sitting across from him, Simon could get used to it. A morning shared together, a breakfast enjoyed. The sun bathing their face, their hair tousled from waking up...
-"Hm, better than spying?"
-"You're the one who was stalking me."
-"You were doing the same."
-"But I wasn't looking at the other with a murderous look, I thought you hated me at first."
-"Really?"
-"Yes. I mean, I'm not the sexiest view in the world, so I thought you hated seeing me when you smoked. I even tried to shift my hours so you wouldn't see me."
-He laughed. "You're the sexiest view there is, y/n."
-"Wrong, there's Megan thee Stallion."
-"Hm, second view then."
-His phone beeped. Simon sighed.
-"Is it work?"
-"Yes."
-"You're leaving?"
-"In two days."
-"I guess you can't tell me where."
-"No."
-"Or how long."
-"Hm."
-"So, two months."
-"What?"
-"Well, if you can't say anything, I can imagine it, right? Like your mask, I never knew why, so I imagined you had vampire teeth."
-"Vampire teeth?" Simon mocked.
-"You never went out except at night, you came back late, your blinds were always closed, and your pale skin, what else could I think?"
-"Ill?"
-"..."
-"Hypochondriac? Scars?"
-"Okay, my theory was dumb, no need to twist the knife, Simon."
-He snorted.
-"You're beautiful without it," y/n finally added.
-"I know."
-"Fuck you, Simon, I'm trying to flirt."
-"Hm, 'trying' is the right word."
-"Simon."
-"Fine, 'thank you, y/n', is that better?"
-"Yes."
-Simon winked at them, y/n rolled their eyes.
-"By the way, I have a package arriving on Friday," Simon said.
-"And?"
-"It's for you."
-"A gift? But I didn't do anything."
-"That's the point of a gift, y/n. Plus, I know your birthday is coming soon."
-"Léa?"
-"Your ID."
-"How did you get it?"
-"I needed to check who you were," Simon lied.
-"...Léa," he eventually admitted.
-"I thought so."
-"Happy early birthday."
-"Thank you, Simon."
-And there, Simon wanted to engrave this image of their smile.
__________________
-Alone, lost in the forest, waiting for the target, Simon wondered what y/n was doing. Was they sleeping? Had they opened their gift? Did they like it?
-His thoughts stopped, focused on the mission, with a new desire. The desire to go home.
-To go home. To y/n.
_________________
-"Simon!"
-Tired, jet lag leaving his body heavy, but his eyes squinted at the sight of them.
-"y/n."
-"I..."
-They seemed hesitant to hug him, not quite sure what to do. Simon wanted it.
-"Oh damn, hugging y/n, melting into their warmth, leaving his hands on their curves, their thighs so soft, their hair."
-"Hug okay?" they asked.
-"More than okay."
-"Sure? I know it's not your thing, so it's not obligatory."
-"y/n, I'm sure."
-they nodded and hugged him. their scent filling his nostrils, Simon let go of his bag, letting his arms wrap around them. An embrace comforting him, finally stopping this fatigue. Ghost could leave to let Simon come home.
-"Welcome back," y/n murmured into the embrace.
-"I'm back," he whispered back.
-"I missed you. I... thank you for your gift. I... you're crazy to have spent so much, a machine of this quality..."
-"I intend to let my second sleeve be done by you."
-y/n backed away, surprised.
-"Simon, you don't even know my tattoo style."
-"And?"
-"Imagine if I'm into kawaii? Or a cute colorful Hello Kitty watercolor?"
-"Then I'll have a magnificent Hello Kitty," Simon replied.
-they laughed.
-"That would suit you well."
-"Without a doubt."
-"I might do that when I get my certification."
-"Wait, certification?"
-"I passed the hygiene certification. It's time I stop putting myself down. If I'm a failed artist, well, at least I'll be an artist."
-Simon smiled.
-"I'll be your first fan."
-"Léa is already there."
-"I already have to fight for you, damn."
-"I'm popular, you'll have to get used to it."
-He smiled.
-"Well, I'll let you go home. Good night, I suppose." y/n smiled and went home.
-He nodded and went into his apartment. However, he stopped.
-"y/n?"
-"Hm?"
-The words didn't come. Ask them to stay for what? Tea? Talk? He felt so pathetic.
-But y/n seemed to read him and took his hand, leading him into his apartment. Guiding him to his bed, they lay down beside him. Their bodies still clothed under the sheets drew closer.
-"I didn't imagine the first time in your bed like this."
-"Really?"
-"Hm, yes. I imagined a bit more warmth."
-"The heating is there."
-"Oh, shut up, Simon, you know that's not what I meant," y/n said, laughing.
-He nodded. His hands finding their place on y/n's body, embracing them.
-"My thighs aren't stress balls, Simon."
-"No, they're perfection incarnate. So soft, trembling, they're perfect."
-"It's fat."
-"Exactly."
-y/n chuckled and relaxed into his arms.
-"Does this mean something, us?" they murmured.
-"Yes."
-Not another question, and Simon fell into a deep sleep.
-Waking up, y/n in his arms, Simon decided he didn't want to wake up without their anymore. Enjoying the brief moments of peace, he let his thumbs trace circles on their back.
-"Hey," they murmured.
-"Hey."
-"Did you sleep well?"
-"Yes."
-"Simon, you have to let me go if we're going to get up."
-"Why get up?"
-"To eat?"
-His stomach answered for him. Simon sighed and got up.
______________________________
-"L.T., how dare ye?"
-"Soap."
-"Why?!"
-"Why what?" Simon asked, irritated, looking up from his reports.
-"Ye slept wi’ them!"
-"How do you know that?"
-"Ye smell good."
-Simon frowned.
-"So, I don't smell good usually?"
-"Na, ye smell like aftershave, but now it's soft."
-"Yes, I slept with them. Need details?"
-"AYE!"
-"Well, you won't get any. It was platonic, nothing sexual."
-"...so a nap."
-"Yes, McTavish, a nap."
-"...damn it, L.T., that's disappointin’."
-"I don't care."
-"Invite me tae the weddin’ in a century then."
-"You won't be invited."
-"You love me too much for that, L.T.!"
-"In your dreams, McTavish."
______________________
-"So, a lovebird in your life?"
-"Not you too, Cap."
-"I'm just curious, Simon. I know how closed off you are."
-"They're the one, sir."
-"Nice?"
-"They understand PTSD and all that shit."
-"Hm, so one to keep."
-"To marry."
-"Good luck, Simon."
-"Thanks, Cap."
----
-"Simon?"
-Blood. y/n, dead. Simon standing over their body.
-Gasping, he stood at his door, needing to know, to touch them, to prove they were alive.
-He hugged their, checking their pulse. It wasn't an illusion; they were there.
-"Simon, five things you see," y/n murmured, understanding he was there without being there.
-"You, my hands, your doormat, your coat, and your slippers," Simon eventually articulated.
-"Four things you touch."
-"y/n."
-"Simon, focus."
-"Your hair, your neck, your hips, your shoulders, your cheek."
-"Three things you hear."
-"Your pulse, my pulse, your voice."
-"Two things you smell."
-"My sweat, your perfume."
-"One thing you taste."
-"My blood."
-y/n nodded, and Simon opened his mouth, his teeth so tight he had bitten his tongue. His breath, still shaky, was calming.
-"I'm there," y/n murmured, not moving from his embrace.
-"Do you want to talk about it?" they asked.
-"No."
-"Let's sit on my couch, better than standing at the entrance of the apartment, okay?"
-Simon didn't let go of them for a moment.
-Hours passed, nothing could calm his paranoia.
-"You haven't shaved," y/n murmured.
-Simon couldn't articulate, he just nodded.
-"Can I do it for you? I know under your mask, it must feel better when you're clean-shaven."
-He nodded again. Slowly they guided him into their tiny bathroom, shaving him precisely, calmly, in a soothing silence. His eyes never leaving their face, Simon wanted to scream, cry, shake them, show them he was broken, reject them, make them run away but...
--they were there. Not forcing him to talk, letting him slowly come back down, anchoring him to reality.
-"You know, sunscreen and moisturizer would help your skin a lot," they murmured as they applied the lotions to his face slowly.
-"Especially with your chalky complexion," they added, chuckling.
-That sound, so soft, calmed his heart.
-"Okay," he managed to say.
-"I'll buy you some."
-"...Thank you."
-"Thank you for everything, for the crisis, for the beard, for the lotions, for not asking questions, for welcoming me into your life."
-"You're welcome," they replied, understanding the implication.
__________________________
-"I got rejected," y/n murmured.
-It was 10 a.m., they were on their balcony, the rain falling, they were sheltered.
-"None?"
-"No tattoo parlor accepted me for apprenticeship. Maybe I'm not good enough."
-"Or they're just blind."
-"Simon."
-"You'll make it, y/n," Simon murmured, taking their hand.
-"Maybe, but I... don't feel legitimate to continue."
-"Van Gogh was considered worthless all his life."
-"I hope to have recognition before death, Si'," y/n said, laughing.
-"And there it is, the smile suits you better."
-"Thank you, Si'."
-"Always there."
-they nodded.
___________________________
-"Si'."
-Late at night, in front of a cheap show, they were on their couch.
-"Hm?"
-"Are you... attracted to me?"
-"y/n."
-"I don't want big words, it's just... I don't want to be with someone who loves my personality and accepts my body out of pity. Not feeling desired, I know what that's like, feeling like a second option too, and I've never... addressed the subject with you. Being with a fat person is something different, the looks of others... it's something. And I don't want to be a secret or a shame."
-Simon observed them.
-"So I've been shitty."
-"What?"
-"Because every step, every breath, every part of you ignites a burning desire in me, y/n. I've been shitty at showing it if you think for a moment that every inch of you, every roll, every stretch mark isn't something I love about you."
-their breath caught for a moment.
-"I want to touch you, taste you, let your plump thighs around my head as I kiss you, I want to feel that belly with every bounce when we make love, I want to kiss this body."
-"I- I just wanted a yes, Simon," y/n replied, their voice rising in pitch, their gaze shifting away from the sudden warmth in the room.
-"Well, you have it," Simon added, a predatory look in his eyes.
-"Yes."
-The silence stretched.
-"Aren't you going to do anything, y/n?"
-y/n leaned in.
-"Yes."
-they kissed him.
_____________________
-"L.T., thanks again for coming."
-"No one wanted to miss this, McTavish," Price added.
-"A Scottish Hello Kitty tattoo, that's not to be missed, that's for sure," Gaz said as he entered the small salon.
-The place was peaceful, comfortable. A young woman greeted them and guided them to the artist's station.
-The men settled. Soap in the chair, the others on the chairs to support him.
-"Hello everyone."
-Price and Gaz greeted the tattoo artist, but Soap spoke up.
-"YOU BASTARD! YE DIDN'T TELL ME!"
-"Soap, what's-" Price began.
-"I don't need help, Johnny, I told you."
-"Ye didnae tell me, it's horrible, I was waitin’ and ye two, ye... how long?" he asked y/n.
-"Six months."
-"SIX MONTHS?!"
-"Wait, you're..."
-"y/n, meet Gaz Kyle Garrick and John Price. This is y/n, my lover."
-"Pleased to meet you," Price said, shaking their hand. "I'm surprised this big guy managed to find someone as lovely as you."
-"Thank you."
-"Six months," Soap repeated.
-"I wanted to tell you, but we wanted to take our time and with all my paperwork to find an apprenticeship and a place, I didn't realize how time passed," y/n admitted.
-"Wait, ye’re an apprentice?" Soap asked, terrified.
-"Yes, but don't worry, I'm not doing your tattoo today. I'm just preparing the equipment," y/n joked.
-"Oh, nae that I dinnae trust ye but-"
-"Don't worry."
-At 10 a.m., lost in a tattoo parlor watching Johnny get a Scottish Hello Kitty, y/n by his side, and Gaz and Price smiling.
-Ghost had finally found a new meaning to home, and he wouldn't leave it for anything in the world.
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