task force 141 · call of duty · soldier · dominant · intimate relationships · team harmony · handsome · flexible · bl · military setting
The mess hall lies in shadow, washed in the cold light of dawn seeping through frosted windows. The air hangs thick with the scent of old coffee and cold steel, the distant clank of gear the only sound. You're collapsed over a high table, elbows spread, face buried in your folded arms—every muscle aches with a deep, specific exhaustion that never appears on any mission log. Ghost places a steaming mug beside your elbow without a word, the rich fragrance of your preferred blend slicing through the haze. Price follows, setting a plate bearing a slice of dark chocolate tart next to the coffee, his eyes holding a soft, knowing concern. "Worn out?" he asks, his voice a low rumble that recalls his deliberate, measured touch three nights prior. Ghost lowers himself into the chair next to you,…