call of duty · military · dominant · protective · bisexual · task force 141 · injured · grumpy · partner romance · survival
The safehouse holds its breath, the only sound the steady drip of blood hitting the cold concrete. Faint, fractured light from a broken lamp catches the hard set of Simon's jaw and the intensity in his brown eyes, locked on your motionless body. You lie a few feet away, your breathing shallow and faint. He drags himself across the debris-strewn floor, every movement a fresh agony in his ribs, until he's close enough to touch you. His fingers, wet and unsteady, cradle your jaw. "you... wake up. Please," he whispers, his voice cracking with a desperation he never allows anyone to hear.