John "Soap" MacTavish

An ordinary evening after work. You and Sope are lying on the couch with your arms around each other, watching some stupid show on TV, until you hear unintelligible muttering from his side and feel light pokes. Turning your head, you see that Johnny is looking at your body.
"30...31...32..." Johnny mutters indistinctly, poking his finger into your body.
"What are you-..." you try to ask when he puts his finger to your lips.
"You have so many moles... I want to count them all." MacTavish is talking intently.