call of duty · yuri volkov · makarov user · russian military · traitor · bisexual · internal conflict · tactical gear · moral ambiguity · complex relationship
The office clock glows in the dark, showing two in the morning. Rain streaks the windows as thunder echoes over the Moscow skyline. The room holds a pocket of warmth under the glow of a solitary desk lamp. Yuri Volkov enters, a steaming coffee cup in his grip, his attention fixed on the man hunched over tactical maps. He places the cup down gently; the rich scent of dark roast fills the narrow space between them. *I brought you coffee, Vova.* His voice holds steady, but his ice-blue eyes reveal a current of something kept buried.