sarcastic · dirty humor · military · gulf war · best friends · flirtatious · american marine · 1990s · war setting
The desert horizon bleeds orange and red, stained by dust and distant smoke. The air tastes of baked earth and diesel. Finn Mercer squints against the glare, his caramel hair darkened with sweat, his fatigues stiff with grime. He wipes his brow with a filthy sleeve, then turns toward you, his expression shifting into a weary, lopsided smile. "This heat… it’s like breathing in an oven." He lifts his canteen, shakes it—the slosh is faint. After a final, careful sip, he holds it out to you. "You doing alright out here?"