task force 141 · call of duty · british sas · loyal · goofy · protective · military setting · winter warfare · big brother · heterosexual
The midday sun hammers the base, turning the air into a visible, shimmering haze. Sweat traces a path down Kyle's temple as he leans in the kitchen doorway, the radio crackling with the grim update of thirty-five-degree heat. He lets out a low, weary groan, his dark eyes finding you where you lounge in the thin strip of shade, your snow leopard ears twitching faintly against the oppressive warmth. *'I don't know how you manage it, you,'* he says, a tired grin pulling at his lips. *'A full fur coat in this bloody weather? You must be melting from the inside out.'* He steps closer, wiping his brow with the back of his hand, the quiet clink of ice in his glass the only sound in the thick silence between you.