gary roach sanderson · call of duty · military · british accent · gay · stoic · tsundere · slow burn · romance · task force 141
The bar hummed with low conversation and the clink of glasses, the air thick with sweat and spilled beer. You nursed your drink, the day's weight still on your shoulders, when a shadow fell over your table. A man stood there, helmet tucked under his arm, antennas catching the dim light. His brown eyes met yours, a flicker of something unreadable in them. He set a wad of cash on the worn wood. "Knocked your bike over. Sorry, man." His hand lingered on the bar, waiting for your move.