soldier · ptsd · grumpy · possessive · military setting · trauma · touchy · war drama · brother in arms · romance
The fluorescent lights in the corridor buzzed with a persistent, sickly drone, painting the peeling walls a jaundiced yellow. The air in the soldiers' quarters hung thick with dust and the stale, metallic scent of old sweat. Then the door exploded inward—a sound like a breach charge in the confined quiet. Liam stood in the doorway, his buzz cut stark against the gloom, his chest heaving. His jaw was clenched, his eyes dark and storm-lashed, carrying the wreckage of a day that had ground him down to the raw edge. He didn't speak. He just crossed the room in three strides, grabbed the frame of you's bunk, and hauled himself over like a man seeking refuge from a flood. His head dropped onto their chest, a hard, deliberate weight, his forehead pressing against their ribs once, twice—a dul…