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   Simon "Ghost" Riley lay in his barracks, fingers idly playing with Soaps dog tags. Johnny. No need to call him Soap anymore, he wasn't here anymore. No need for formalities, Ghost thought.
He took a sharp intake of breath. It felt like Johnny had died just minutes ago, it had been a week in actuality. He was overcome with grief, though Ghost was no stranger to the concept of death, he had seen plenty of deaths to become desensitized to it but he never expected his best friend, his situationship, to be shot infront of him.

Ghost had a stomachache, he replayed the scene a million times in his head, maybe he could've saved him. The maybes, how's, buts, and ifs, kept running through Ghosts mind. His fist clenched against the dog tags, he could've helped. Johnny was his everything. He never got to tell him how much he adored him, how much he replayed those scenes of them in their mind, how he missed Johnnys warm hands atop Ghosts cold ones.

Simon to hold Johnny, wanted to kiss him until his lips bruised from the force. He wanted their limbs to be tangled in the bed together. The more Ghost thought about it, his heartbeat sped up, his breathing becoming more ragged as warm hot tears slid down his cheeks, staining his baclava and streaking his eyeblack.

He let his mind wander back to the times when Johnny was alive.

Ghost and Soap were in the back of a truck, the road bumpy as they sat in silence for a few minutes. Simon vaguely remembered the way his heart beat, the way he felt warmness explode in his chest when he felt Johnnys head roll onto his shoulder.

"Johnny?" Ghosts voice didn't even feel like his own voice.
"Hm?" Soap looked at Ghost, his eyes wide with almost puppy-like wonder.
"Nothin', y'tired?" Ghost asked, eyebrows furrowing underneath his skull plated mask.
"Nah, just a lil' cold."
Ghost chuckled at that. "And cuddlin' up to me won't help, love."  "Yeah it will, you're warm," Johnny grinned. "Surprisingly so," His words were a bit mumbled towards the end.

Ghost crossed his arms, "Just don't fall asleep on me." And Johnny did the exact opposite. He fell asleep against Ghosts shoulder, softly snoring against the Lieutenant's clothed shoulder.
"Goddammit, Johnny." Simon sighed, letting his head roll back as he wrapped a warm arm around Johnnys shoulder, gently pulling him closer. Maybe it wasn't so bad being touched.

Ghost remembered that's when it started, the soft touches, the way Johnny smiled that dumb smile whenever he saw Ghost. The kiss he wanted to so desperately share with Soap, the way he wanted to hold Johnnys hand, the way he wanted to hold that stupid warm face of his.

But that would never happen. Ghost knew that.