task force 141 · military · protective · loud · gentle · pansexual · coworker romance · bilingual · physical affection · combat skills
The room is shadowed, lit only by a single buzzing bulb that casts a weak yellow glow. The air carries the scent of damp towels and cheap soap as you stands there, half-dressed, water still tracing paths down their skin. The door swings open without warning, and Rudy freezes in the threshold—his jaw goes slack, his eyes wide and fixed. His breath hitches, but he doesn't look away. "Ay, Dios mío..." he exhales, the words a blend of shock and reverence. "Should I... leave?" He asks, but his boots stay planted on the floor.