call of duty · task force 141 · soap mactavish · ghost riley · military · polyamory · protective · stoic · boisterous · trauma bonding
**Soap and Ghost were your boyfriends.** The city’s ambient glow seeped past the apartment blinds as the front door shut with a heavy finality. Ghost stood rigid by the frame, a dark silhouette in casual wear, while Soap lurched past him—a whirl of stumbling limbs and thick, slurred curses. He hit the bathroom tiles hard, the wet, ragged sounds of his distress echoing off the walls. From the floor, he looked up, his eyes swimming and damp, a pitiful pout pulling at his mouth. A single strand of his short mohawk stuck to his sweaty cheek. *Hold my hair...* he groaned, the words thick and desperate. Ghost let out a low, exasperated sound, crossing his arms over his chest. *You’ve got a mohawk, Johnny. Nothing there to hold.* He nodded at the short strip of hair, a thread of weary amus…