SOAPGHOST & KISSES
When they kissed for the first time, it was almost…casual. Like it wasn’t this weighty thing they’ve been hanging around the precipice of.
Ghost had had a long day spent with Price pouring over paperwork and maps, tossing out ideas for their next missions and remedies for issues they had in previous ones. He was exhausted, mentally, and trudged back to his room on heavy feet, more files he was supposed to look over under his arm.
When he got there, he’d barely had the time to set the files down on his desk before there was a knock at his door. Upon opening it, he found Johnny, and was stepping out of the way to let him in without a second thought; he was always welcome here, in Simon’s space.
Johnny was holding a mug of tea in his hands, which he offered to Ghost as he told him he knew he’d had a long day and thought it might help. Simon shucked his gloves off, dropped them on top of the discarded files, and accepted the steaming mug from Johnny’s warm hands. Long comfortable with Johnny, he pulled his mask up and took a sip of the tea, no longer wary of Johnny’s tea making abilities now that he knew Gaz was coaching him under the table.
The tea was made perfectly to his preference, and he kept the mug against his lips as he swallowed, prepared to take another swig. Johnny grinned, pleased with Simon’s reaction. And Simon swallowed the second sip slowly, something happening in his chest that he couldn’t place. It wasn’t just the warmth of the tea working its way through him. It was a different kind of warmth; it was an ache. An ache for Johnny and his smile and his affection.
Simon glanced away from Johnny long enough to set his tea down on the desk beside him, already reaching for Johnny with his other hand. Johnny’s brow wrinkled with confusion without budging his smile, but he didn’t pull away as Simon slid his palm over the side of his jaw. He kept his eyes on Johnny as he framed his face and that lovely smile between his hands, watching for signals.
Johnny caught on quick, his smile dimming as he realized what Simon wanted, disbelief flickering in his expression before the clear want swept through. Johnny’s hand came up slowly to hold on to Simon’s wrist, and he knew he had permission.
So Simon leaned down and kissed him. Sweeping up Johnny’s lips in his own did nothing to abate the ache in his chest, instead only caused it to spread, to become heavier.
Johnny started to fucking smile even as he kissed Simon back, and while Simon didn’t mind feeling his smile, it made it harder to kiss him. Then Johnny pulled back enough to tell him his mouth tasted like tea, to which Simon said he couldn’t see how that was what’s important at the moment. But the words only made it part of the way out of his mouth because Johnny started to kiss him. Over and over, breaking to smile and make comments and to take in the look on Simon’s face.
And Simon was getting sick. The room tilted around him slightly, as if something inside of him was orienting itself towards Johnny more permanently. The ache in his chest was taking over his entire body like a fever, like his body was begging for Johnny to relieve the aches with his touch. Simon lost all the strength to move, caught in Johnny’s orbit with no intention to be let go on either of their sides. He was helpless in his want to do nothing but let Johnny kiss him—to kiss him back when he lingered long enough for him to.
When Johnny was temporarily satisfied, he gave Simon one last lingering kiss he was able to reciprocate before he tugged Simon’s hands off his face. Simon was told to finish his tea while it was hot because Johnny had worked too hard to make it for it to go to waste. Then Johnny went over to Simon’s bed, picked up a random book from his side table, and settled in.
Just like that. Simon was shocked by how easy it’d been to kiss Johnny. How casually Johnny had handled it, not because he didn’t understand what he was being given, but because he did, and he was willing to let it not be a big deal if that’s what Simon wanted.
The fourth time they kissed, Johnny was the one to seek Simon out, and the kiss they shared wasn’t quite like the ones they’d shared up until that point.
Soap was being sent out on a mission that didn’t involve Ghost, and he was getting ready to leave when he found Ghost alone in Price’s office, getting the paperwork sorted and filed. Johnny was quieter than usual as he came into the room, and Ghost chalked it up to the pre-mission quiet Soap sometimes lapsed into. He was wrong, because Johnny asked him a bit timidly if he could get a kiss before he left.
Simon, helpless to deny Johnny anything on a good day and absolutely powerless against the sudden shyness, set the papers he was holding down and tugged his balaclava completely off his head. He shoved it into his jacket pocket as he crossed the space between him and Johnny, who was studying Simon’s face as he always did when it was bare, like he wasn’t sure he’d get the chance again.
Simon pulled Johnny in by his waist, grateful for the fact he’d taken his gloves off to make sorting papers easier, and Johnny anchored himself with his fingers in Simon’s hair. He kissed Johnny deeply and deliberately, tracing the shape of his body with his hands as if he could brand the prints into his flesh to be used like armor, protecting his reason to live while he was away from him.
They didn’t have long, so they couldn’t linger like they wanted to. Simon broke off first, then he pressed another kiss to Johnny’s forehead, one that said please come back to me in one piece. Johnny hugged him tightly and briefly before he stepped out of the safety of Simon’s arms, flashing a grin as he left the room along with a comment about how he’d see him in a week.
By the tenth kiss, Simon had acclimated to the new intimacy and was starting to learn, about himself and about Johnny.
Johnny couldn’t keep quiet even when he was being kissed, and Simon was having the immense pleasure of discovering all the musical noises Johnny could make. Simon paid close attention to what he did that caused the deep groans and the bitten-off whimpers so that he could cause them on command. They, along with the feel of Johnny’s mouth on his and his hands on his body and in his hair, became a drug that Simon was quickly and dangerously getting addicted to.
Simon liked tasting Johnny’s smile, liked feeling his ragged breath against his face, liked the feel of his skin against his. Liked that instinctual snap of Johnny’s hips against his own that happened when he started to feel pent-up. Liked the way Johnny clawed at his shoulders, his waist, his hips as he tried to get Simon closer, even if they were already pressed so tightly against each other there wasn’t even room for air between their bodies. He liked the way Johnny’s lips ended up looking, swollen and dark and wet with their saliva, and liked the way his own mouth throbbed like a new bruise.
Kissing Johnny, as it turned out, didn’t give Simon a gut-wrenching awareness of his own vulnerability like he’d feared. It didn’t feel like what am I doing, what am I risking. It felt like dropping a weight off his shoulders, felt like a sigh. Kissing Johnny felt like a homecoming, and it’d been so very long since Simon had felt at home.
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I miss the slightly more intimate moments we shared before she came along. Back when you had on-and-off girlfriends and I was a constant in your life…maybe as a student, but a constant: I was someone who actually cared about you and gave you my undivided attention, always. You’d look at me like I was special. Treat me so carefully, so kindly. Allow yourself to talk to me casually.
Now, those moments only come once in a blue moon, only within the moments that she’s gone. But she’s almost never gone…. because she follows you around like a lost puppy. Literally. Always lingers awkwardly when you’re occupied, just to swoop by you again when you’re alone. And you let her.
You recently shared a hotel room. You always share the same car on the rides to school. You always sit next to each other. You’re always talking. Smiling. Laughing. Joking. Relaxed posture. Similar characteristics. Standing in such a close proximity, sometimes leaning closer to the other’s face just to hear them mutter— it’s all so sickening. I’m unbelievably jealous. She’s HOPELESS. I’m hopeless.
She has no clue how lucky she is… and yet she still has the gall to glare at me when I walk over to him and she’s nearby. It ticks me off. Like, there’s NO reason you should be mad at a junior for approaching her DIRECTOR. You can NOT be mad about me wasting your time with him when you literally have THE WHOLE DAY!!! You follow him so much you might as well have a string attached to him. Constant, constant, constant interactions. Maybe he’ll get sick of it. God knows how long he can handle someone emotionally dependent like she seems to be.
She’s so dependent on him always and it makes my blood boil. I wish he’d one, admit to our class that they’re dating and just go ahead and break my heart, two, admit to me that her clinginess annoys him and he doesn’t want anything to do with her romantically, or three…. just BREAK IT OFF! Stop hanging out! Get away from her! Make some boundaries! ANYTHING to get her away from you!!! I just can’t stand it!!!!
ugh
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I need n e e d to ramble about Eph’s family again because it’s the only thing keeping me from ripping a door off of its hinges atm—but wait! I’m doing something different today. I’m gonna go backwards in the family tree (which you can view here if you wish! But it’s not necessary for the purposes of this post)
So a lil while ago on twitter, @/kwoojii asked for Ephemera backstory headcanons (well specifically they also asked about his commitment issues 😄) so I figured why not share what I said and expand on it here?
I need to give additional context, because this goes into general edgy headcanon territory. Below are screenshots from one of my fic documents [Overmorrow Character and Lore Files - File 3 (pgs 2-3)] explaining what I imagine the situation in Daybreak Town is:
Now to get into the main part: My backstory headcanon for Ephemera is that he was raised by two moms. They owned a library, and even had a small textile business on the side. As you can probably guess, Eph grew up surrounded by books, and got his scarf from them. They loved him dearly, and tried their best to give him a good life.
But they fell on hard times. In the midsts of their struggles, they were eventually approached by the MoM. They talked a lot and came around to trust the clever, charismatic, even sympathetic guy. And he made them a promise that their son would be well cared for under his watch 👁️ So, convinced by the MoM’s words…these mothers choose to give up their only child in hopes that he’ll have a better quality of life elsewhere.
Eph has very vague memories of them. He remembers being loved, but he also remembers being abandoned and left alone for a long time (however long it takes for the MoM to get things set up in Daybreak Town; I assume the kids are kept in some liminal space in the meantime).….hence the commitment issues. He learns to figure things out on his own, and that carries over into his early days as a keyblade wielder. He likes being with people, but he relies on himself first and foremost. He tends to keep a bit of emotional distance between himself and others without meaning to because he subconsciously thinks that one day, they might leave him too. It’s easier to be the one who leaves than it is to be the one who gets left behind.
But this makes his bond with the other union leaders and Player all the more meaningful, because they all choose to stand together again and again, despite the odds, and their own personal doubts and fears.
It’s a bit of a downer, I know…but I assume it’d be like that not just for Eph and his parents, but for most of the other Daybreak kids and their parents too.
…Can I perhaps offer you some of my old doodles from last year as consolation? 😄
Phoebe Ophiuchus (left) and Paraphernalia “Nalia” Lumen (right), the lesbians that started it all 🤍
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