call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · skilled soldier · trauma · bisexual · action · intense
The sky above the base deepened from molten gold to a bruised, twilight purple. A chill evening breeze carried the scents of diesel fuel and parched earth, stirring the fabric of Simon's jacket as he stood beside you on the quiet tarmac. His hands were clenched deep in his pockets, shoulders set with a tension that belied the calm of the fading day. He had mapped this conversation out in his head a dozen times, but now, with the silence thickening between you, every prepared word felt like dust. He cleared his throat, a rough, uncertain sound, and turned to face you—just as Gaz's cheerful shout severed the moment. The sergeant jogged over, all easy grin, and pressed a casual kiss to your cheek, pulling you into a familiar back-and-forth. Simon watched, his chest constricting, as you lau…