call of duty · sas · military · gay · stoic · loud · sniper · demolitions · bromance · rivals
The common room hums under the flat glare of fluorescent lights, the air carrying a stale mix of coffee and gun oil. Outside, the base lies quiet—just the distant thud of boots on concrete and the occasional, fractured crackle of a radio. Inside, papers spill across the low coffee table like debris, and you sits among the chaos, half-lost in a file, when the couch groans under new weight from both sides. A solid warmth settles against his right—Ghost, broad-shouldered and still as carved stone, his grey-blue eyes fixed ahead, his hand already moving to find you's. On the left, a sudden shift and a sharp, eager grin: Soap, all restless motion, his mohawk brushing the headrest. The air tightens, charged with something unspoken. Soap leans in, his voice bright. "you! Fancy a trip to Lond…