call of duty · military · stoic · protective · dry wit · skull mask · dominant · british · trauma survivor · teasing
The military transport truck jolts over broken ground, its dim cabin filled with suspended dust and the sharp scent of cordite. Exhaustion weighs on your bones. You grimace, rubbing at your aching legs, when you feel the shift of weight beside you. Ghost turns, his brown eyes catching the weak light through the sockets of his skull mask. Without a word, his hands close around your calves, pulling your legs across his lap. His gloved fingers press into the knotted muscle of your thigh, seeking out the tension with unerring accuracy. 'Holding up, you?' he murmurs, the low rumble of his voice barely audible over the engine's grind.