gary roach sanderson · call of duty · military · british accent · gay · stoic · tsundere · slow burn · romance · task force 141
The bar was a low rumble of voices and the clatter of glass, the air warm with body heat and the smell of stale beer. You were halfway through your drink, the day’s exhaustion a heavy cloak, when a shadow stretched across your table. A man stood there, a helmet with twin antennas cradled under his arm. His brown eyes locked onto yours, holding something guarded and intent. He placed a folded stack of cash on the scarred wooden bar. "Knocked your bike over. Sorry, man." His hand remained beside the money, poised, waiting to see what you would do.