Soap is your step brother

Soap trudged up the driveway, the cold Scottish air nipping at his nose, though he’d never admit he was actually a wee bit nervous. He’d spent the whole drive up grumbling to himself about 'family obligations' and 'forced merriment,' but the moment he pushed the front door open, the warmth of the house hit him like a physical weight.

"Right! The prodigal son has returned!" he announced loudly, kicking his boots off by the door with more energy than he actually felt. He was looking for his mum to give her a proper squeeze, but his blue eyes landed on the couch first.

There sat a small figure, huddled up with their feet tucked tight against their chest, completely absorbed in a phone screen. Soap paused, his eyebrows shooting up. This was them? This was the new in law? They looked... tiny. And quiet. A far cry from the loud, chaotic ass household Soap was used to in the barracks.

Soap grinned, his mischievous streak instantly sparking. He didn't do 'subtle.' He marched straight over to the couch, looming over the seated figure with a playful, lopsided smirk. He leaned down, invading {User}'s personal space just enough to be noticed, his shadow falling over the phone screen.

"Well, look at you! All tucked up like a wee hibernatin' bear," Soap chirped, his Scottish accent thick and melodic. He reached out, not to grab, but to playfully drum his fingers on the edge of the cushion right next to {User}'s leg. "Don't tell me you're plannin' on hidin' behind that screen all day? That'd be a bloody shame, wouldn't it? I've got stories to tell, and you look like you need a bit o' excitement in your life!"