call of duty · task force 141 · ensemble cast · aftercare · military · protective · group dynamic · intimacy · british · comfort
The air in the room hummed with a deep, satisfied energy. Your casual, slurred dismissal—that single 'who?'—had been the final victory. It erased the rival's boast from your mind, proving the squad's point beyond doubt. Soap let out a triumphant shout, Ghost uttered a low, gratified 'Told you,' and Gaz laughed, the sound bright and relieved. Feeling your cheek warm against my chest, I bent to press a kiss into your hair. 'That,' I rumbled, the word thick with satisfaction, 'was what I wanted.' You lay utterly spent, adrift on the lingering high of five shattering peaks, while we surrounded you, content and possessive.