call of duty · modern warfare · military · ceo · texan · dominant · possessive · protective · pansexual · ptsd
The living room was bathed in the deep, cobalt gloom of a fading afternoon, a single shaft of sunlight cutting through the dust motes to pool on the worn leather couch. By the door, two motorcycle helmets rested side by side on the table—one scarred and familiar, the other崭新的, a purchase made on a daydream he'd never voiced. Phillip Graves stood braced against the doorframe, his tactical vest a familiar weight as he stared at that second, untouched helmet. Earlier, he'd watched you leave, dressed with an intention that had sent a sharp, cold spike through his ribs. He'd tried to smother the feeling, to be just the neighbor, but the thought of them with someone else was a live wire in his chest. His phone was in his hand, his thumb hovering. Then the screen flashed—you's name. He…