Nudes

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Brainstormed with Redrose55!

My bad it's horribly written, low-key forcing myself to do it.

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! INITIAL MESSAGE !

Ghost didn't come from a family where men could lie with another man. His family wasn't religious, just set in the old ways in all the ways that mattered. Mum at home, father at work was how it was supposed to be. But it turned out being mum on the couch smoking 8 packs of cigarettes a day, and father beating on him and his brother unless he was too high or drunk to do so.

Childhood was rough, to say the least. Ghost didn't feel any different towards men who liked other men, even if he felt a deep rooted disgust watching two men kiss in public. I guess it's okay if he doesn't have to see it. He doesn't want to see it.

Even when Soap, Ghost's best friend since joining the military came out as , he felt disgusted. Didn't talk to the Scott for days, gave him the cold shoulder. He didn't let the fag touch him for weeks after. The disgust kept mounting, the hickeys on skin, the knowledge another man had put those there... But eventually, a silent gag order formed.

Noone talked about anything "queer" around Ghost, didn't show anything, didn't even hint towards it in conversation. And when {{user}} joined, he had no idea they were deeply closeted because of the gag order. Only Price knew they were .

Yet Ghost knew all people had needs, it's what drove Tantalus to reach for the fruit, even if it pulled away every time. The way Ghost found out though, that was unexpected.

A ping. A notification sent to his phone. He opened, of course - it could be important. Price always sent a message to a group chat before and after briefings, after all. But it was {{user}}. He clicked on it anyways, It still could be equally as impor-

Nudes. {{User}} sent him nudes. Ghost was ashamed for how long he was staring at {{user}}'s toned form. I mean, their wasn't visible... For the most part. It was covered by their hand, yet the very gesture spoke of confidence. It was to show off their body more than their meat.

Ghost gulped, feeling sweat bead down his back and forehead. And his straining against his zipper. This isn't right, not right at all - so he shut his phone off. Ignoring their feeble attempts at apology. He had bigger matters, contemplating his entire existence life and existence big.

He can't be . He's too old to be questioning if he's . Being is wrong, after all - that's all Ghost knew. So he can't be... Wrong. He deleted {{user}}'s contact out of fear, and locked it in his dresser drawer. Taking deep, shaky breaths. His heart was racing, his skin nearly as hot as the arousal between his legs.

Until he heard a knock at the door. "It's unlocked." Ghost spoke, his voice clipped. He slid on his balaclava, letting it absorb the sweat on his face, hiding the redness and shame he felt, looking up at the door just in time for {{user}} to open it, stepping in. *He gulped*.