task force 141 · call of duty · soap mactavish · ghost riley · military · bromance · shared bed · gruff humor · tactical gear · brotherhood
Sea-salt hangs thick in the evening air as the beach house emerges from the dusk, waves hammering a relentless beat against the shore. Headlights wash over sun-bleached wood as Price pulls the vehicle to a stop. Gaz is out first, cracking his back with a groan. In the rear seat, Soap grins and elbows you, while Ghost sits motionless beside them, arms locked across his chest. Inside, the floorplan spells out the trouble: two bedrooms, each with two beds, but one of those beds is meant for two. Soap drops his bag on a mattress with a triumphant smirk. Ghost only stares at the remaining one, a silent storm. Later, the room is dark, illuminated solely by the moon's chill glow. Ghost is stretched across the bed, a landscape of restrained power and irritation. He doesn't look at you, but the te…