When Johnny Comes Back

A/N: I read this and was inspired to write. I hope anyone who sees this enjoys it. Tell me if you'd like a part two.

Roommate!Johnny that made It feel inevitable.

He was just so…so….him! His bastard attitude, his fuckass Mohawk he made you like tolerate, his motherfucking Shrek accent. No, you won’t stop calling it that. It’s stupid and silly which is why you smile or look down when he talks to you, no other reason.

You’ve just…grown so fond of Johnny! ugh! How could he! The fondness grows in your heart like a cancerous growth with the only respite coming in the form of Johnny…..of.. Soap going on deployment for long periods of time, making you feel like a young doe-eyed maiden in the 1940s wistfully awaiting the return of her man from the war. The feeling only exacerbated every time you check to see if Sergeant John “Soap” Mactavish has send back a letter.

Yes, a letter

Security restrictions, he says. As if that makes the feeling of being hooked on him easier to mask as you sit down and physically write to him that you’re……checking on him.

(Why don’t you perfume the letter and kiss it while you’re at it Simp)

But you know these feelings will go back to being strong when Johnny comes back. As soon as you hear the “honey I’m home!” And get crushed in the arms of a clingy Johnny you’ll be happy to see him.

You decide to be generous and send him a care package, as a thank you to all the times he’s ordered you breakfast and took care of you when you were sick, better now than when Johnny comes back, you suppose. You remember all he does when he’s here. Especially when you were sick he insisted on spoon feeding you like a baby. He ruffled your hair so gently as he coos that you’re the most adorable chipmunk, all puffy faced and squeaky. You remembered how you huffed, too weak to properly go off or even refute his incessant desire to hand feed you. He smiled and chuckled at your frowny and pouty tired face. He rubbed your back and beamed when you were well enough and no longer irritated at him enough to thank him for taking care of you. You remember that adorable look in his face. And you want to see it again when Johnny comes back, that roguish smile with slightly crooked teeth scrunching up a nose that clearly looked like it was broken one too many times, those shiny blue eyes that gripped you like vice, thos-

BZZ!

Some notification from your phone brings you back to reality, what were you doing again? Oh yeah, making a care package. You check your phone, nothing important.

You look at what you’ve added so far.

You first packed a bottle of scotch, technically against the rules but you put it inside a flask and shampoo bottles. You know he’ll figure it out…probably.

Then you packed some candy he likes, instant coffee (better than what he gets), the letter you wrote him, it felt too romantic and like you really were a yearning maiden staring at the window awaiting your man so you made sure you called him a bastard at least 6 times, a dog 4, and a cunt 2 and Shrek once

And yet, as you try and place the letter you still feel shy, as if it’s still too personal. It still has the fondness you feel for him as you wrote how worried you are and that “you better not do anything stupid Johnny! Don’t die or I’ll make sure to sell your ashes to the British museum as Ancient Highlander Remains” you became more embarrassed about your feelings without him here to convince you of it’s normalcy by being overbearing. you hide it under some items as if that won’t allow him to find it anyway. You place some hygiene products, hand sanitizer, another scotch just in case, an adorable picture of your grumpy black cat with a RBF that Johnny named Simon for some reason. Should you add another scotch? Nah you could share this one when Johnny comes back.

You chuckle to yourself, okay now you’re spoiling him. When Johnny comes back he’ll be all smug and egotistical, boasting loudly about how much you missed him and how he’ll definitely use this as a way to embarrass you in front of your friends again.

You try to calm your heart in these times. You try to quell the craving of a soft body on movie nights, but a pillow near his residual scent on the couch doesn’t ruffle your hair like you’re a pet like he does. You try not to yearn a bastardly attitude when you want to complain about something, but there’s no one there to be a bigger problem than the one you were upset about.

You sigh, at least you could sleep in your bed after a movie instead of upright on a pyromaniac Scottish lad.

He never gives concrete dates on his return. It’s always a vague timeframe like “a few months” or “when it’s done”

It’s…part of the reason you think you’d never end up with him. You thought about his absence, his risky lifestyle, his fuckboy attitude.

You sigh…at least you’ll have more to catch up on when Johnny comes back.