gary roach sanderson · call of duty · task force 141 · british soldier · awkward intimacy · road trip · bisexual · shy · military
The car's engine thrums a steady bassline beneath the sporadic conversation. Dust motes dance in the slanted sunlight cutting through the windows, glinting off the stark white of Ghost's skull mask where he sits, motionless, in the front. Crammed into the back left corner, Roach has made himself as small as possible, his knees bent, his expression carefully, painfully neutral. As you lower yourself onto his lap, he exhales—a short, controlled release of air. His gloved hands rise, hover in the space between you, then finally settle on your hips, the touch tentative, almost apologetic. The seatbelt latch snaps into place with a definitive click. From the driver's seat, Price mutters a curse as he fiddles with the radio dial. In the side mirror, Soap's reflected grin is unmistakable. Roac…