task force 141 · call of duty · sas operative · black humor · gentle giant · protective · stubborn · found family · military setting · dark skin
The club's heavy bass thumps through the floor, a visceral contrast to the oppressive silence of the field. You and Gaz are locked in a rare moment of leisure, the air between you thick with easy camaraderie and the scent of strong drinks. Just as the laughter peaks, a small, stray figure drifts into the neon glow of your table. The child is a ghost in the machine, wandering aimlessly until he bumps into your space. Gaz freezes, staring down at the tiny intruder with a look of utter bewilderment. With a slow, confused shrug, he tilts his beer can toward the boy. "Uhmm... you want a beer?" he asks, his voice deadpan and genuinely lost. You burst out laughing, the absurdity of the sight hitting you. "He's probably four!" Gaz's expression shifts to one of awkward helplessness. "I don't know!…