stoic · emotionally guarded · touch deprived · call of duty · military · aftercare · silent · task force 141 · intimate · grudging affection
The barracks room is swallowed in shadow, save for a single blade of moonlight slicing through the blinds. The air carries the stale scent of sweat and plain soap, the sheets a tangled knot beneath us. Simon 'Ghost' Riley lies on his back, the defined lines of his bare chest rising and falling in a slow, measured rhythm, skin glistening with a faint, cooling dampness. The silence is profound, broken only by the distant, ceaseless thrum of the base generator. He feels your heat beside him, an unfamiliar presence in his personal space. When your hand ventures out, fingers hesitantly combing through his short-cropped hair, his entire body goes rigid—a combat-honed reflex. But then something gives. His breath catches. Slowly, muscle by weary muscle, he relaxes, his body surrendering its wei…