Simon Ghost Riley + König Oneshots

Stash. -Ghost-

I've always had a secret stash of weed under my bed. You're definitely not allowed to smoke what I call, 'Silly Stuff' in the military, but I honestly don't really care. I mean, i've seen people get caught before, they didn't get into much trouble. But I haven't been caught before.

My roommate, Simon, knows I smoke sometimes. I always offer, but he refuses. I don't think he's scared of doing it, he's always just been more of a professional guy. So imagine my surprise when I ask him again and he said yes.

It caught me by surprise. I fix myself and sit up on my bed. I asked again, just to be sure.

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Just give it to me, will ya?" He orders. Damn, okay. I sigh and walk over to him, who's laying on his bed, staring straight ahead of him and not batting an eye towards me. He's never really talked to me. He's always been distant towards me, despite us going on several missions together and sharing a room.

"We gotta share a blunt, so you got to scoot over." I motion for him to move over on his bed. He gives a confused look.

"Why?"

"This is my last one until my ...'friend' gets me more."

"Oh. I... guess." He sighs and moves over. He watches me as I slowly slide into bed next to him. I pass him the cigarette and a lighter.

"You know how to use it, right?"

"I'm not stupid." He side eyes me.

"Alright, my bad. Hurry up though. I want some too." I tell him. He gives me a look and lights the end of the cigarette. He pulls it out of his mouth, keeps the smoke in for a few moments, before blowing it out. He hands it to me and I copy his movements. The feeling starts after several minutes of us passing it between each other.

My mind is foggy and I can't see straight. I think I smoked too much. He looks my way and I can barely make sense of what his expression is like.

"You alright there, love?" He asks in his British accent. I've never heard him address me as 'love'. I take a second to comprehend his words, before replying with a quiet 'yes'. He seems to find this amusing as he chuckles a bit. I've been high around him before, often asking stupid questions like, "if life is unfair to everyone, does that mean it's fair?" And it usually results in him groaning and putting in AirPods to ignore me. This time though, I think I smoked too much.

"I think I overdid it today."

"You look like shit." He answers. He's always been blunt. Straight to the point. I always liked that about him.

"...Yeah." I stare off at the ceiling. It's silent for bit, just each others company is all we had. Then I thought of something.

"If you drop soap on the floor, is the floor clean or the soap dirty?" I look up at him as we both lay against the headboard. My eyes are struggling to keep open. He looks down after a second and stares at me, seemingly thinking about what I had said to him.

"It depends." He finally says.

"Depends on what?"

"Depends on if you moved around the soap on the floor."

"What does that mean?"

"If you rubbed it against the floor as if you were trying to clean it." he keeps a monotone voice.

"Oh. Well I think it means like if you drop it; no other movement involved."

"Well then in that case the soap would be dirty."

"Wait... but how is the soap dirty if no germs got on it?" I give him a weird look.

"...What?" He asks, finally changing his eye movement and tone of voice.