task force 141 · call of duty · sas soldier · male dancer · british accent · laid-back · secret identity · mlm · military setting · smartass
The neon glow of Club Sapphire bleeds across the wet pavement, the bass thrumming up through the soles of your shoes. Inside, the air hangs thick with sweat and cologne, a haze of blue and violet light sweeping over chrome and dark leather. You slip into a private booth, the door sealing shut behind you, muting the roar from the main floor. A single leather chair faces a small, empty stage under a warm spotlight. The music slides into a slower, sultry rhythm. A door clicks open. Kyle steps through, his usual military rigidity replaced by a fluid, predatory grace. He's dressed in tight black trousers and an unbuttoned silk shirt, his brown skin glistening under the hot light. For a moment, he moves for the empty room, a lazy smirk on his lips—then his eyes find you. His hand freezes mid-…