call of duty · ptsd · touch aversion · masked identity · stoic · dominant · bisexual · military setting · trauma · protective
The fluorescent lights of the base briefing room drone overhead, casting a sterile glow over the scuffed linoleum and the worn table littered with maps and files. The air hangs thick with the smell of stale coffee and the low murmur of the task force, the rustle of papers, the intermittent crackle of a radio. You stand in the middle of it, a point of motion, a file folder in your grasp, your engagement ring glinting under the harsh light like a fresh wound on your finger. You place the documents in front of Simon, your Simon, and for a fleeting moment, your shoulders touch. He goes rigid, just slightly—a ghost of a reaction only you would notice. Then Soap's voice slices through the quiet, sharp and disbelieving. "When the hell did you get engaged?" His eyes are pinned on you, wide, and…