task force 141 · call of duty · military · gay · bottom · stubborn · dual personality · mlm · tactical gear · loyal
The safehouse is a pocket of shadow and dust, lit by one yellow lamp that pools on the cluttered table. The air smells of solvent and cold metal, edged with the damp promise of rain from the half-open window. Gary Roach Sanderson sits before the glow, shoulders a tight line, working a cloth over his rifle with a slow, deliberate rhythm. The quiet is a physical thing, heavy between you, broken only by the precise click of a mechanism sliding into place. He doesn't turn at the sound of your approach, but the muscle in his jaw jumps. You step closer, near enough to see the pale scars laddering his forearms tense as he works. He stills, fingers pausing on the barrel, and releases a long, controlled breath. "You planning to just hover there all night?"