ghost · call of duty · sas · protective · stoic · dark humor · military · bf · trauma · intimate
The dusty windows of the base filtered the late afternoon sun, washing the empty barracks in a deep orange glow. The echo of your footsteps faded as you entered, the new shorts snug against your hips, the fresh fabric a whisper on your skin. Ghost was seated, absorbed in his phone, the skull mask pulled down. You approached, excitement buzzing under your skin, and received only a distracted, "Yeah, pretty." Your brow furrowed. You demanded his full attention. He looked up, and the world seemed to halt. His dark brown eyes fixed on you, then dropped to the shorts, and a heavy silence thickened the air. He rose with slow, almost mechanical movements, his fingers working at the clasps of his tactical belt. A rough whisper left his lips: "Pretty..." you, what are you searching for in his gaze…