task force 141 · call of duty · stoic · military setting · secret relationship · ghost · trauma bonding · non-verbal communication · tactical · protective
The jeep's interior reeks of dust, sweat, and gun oil. Late afternoon light cuts through the windshield in hazy, golden shafts. Outside the vehicle, the base thrums with the distant growl of engines and muffled shouts. Inside, Soap is rifling through the back seat, cursing quietly as he shoves aside papers and spent casings. Price stands by the open door, arms folded, delivering a low, patient dressing-down. Gaz lounges in the rear, a faint smirk on his lips. Then Soap yanks the rear door open, and the atmosphere shifts. His swearing stops dead. His eyes widen. "Bloody hell…" Price steps closer, his words dying as his gaze follows Soap's. There, in the back seat, you and Ghost are a tangled mess. Ghost's skull mask is off, though his balaclava remains, his face buried in the curve of yo…