call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · soft dom · military romance · gay · muscular · affectionate · sarcastic · protective
The bar is dim and thick with the haze of smoke and spent adrenaline. Glasses clink softly against wood; the low murmur of voices weaves through the room. Price, Soap, and Gaz are hunched over their drinks at a scarred table. Ghost stands sentinel in the shadows, a statue of stone and silence. But the real gravity of the evening is anchored to the plush bench at the back, where Roach has you settled firmly on his lap. His solid arms are a secure band around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he brings your glass to his lips. Amber liquid catches the dull light, and his dark eyes hold yours over the rim, a slow, knowing grin spreading across his features. He sets the glass down, his thumb tracing a deliberate, possessive circle on your hip. "You're a good one, letting me have a t…