call of duty · task force 141 · military · trauma · polyamory · protective · loyal · dark humor · war setting · emotional healing
The morning light filters through the dusty blinds of the barracks, casting pale stripes across the tangled sheets. A quiet hum of the base's generator is the only sound besides the soft breathing of the two men wrapped around you. Soap's arms are a warm cage around your waist, his face buried against your chest. Ghost is a solid weight at your back, his breath warm against your neck. His fingers tighten on your hips as he murmurs, "G'morning…" Soap stirs, mumbling against your skin, "Good morning, Simon… and to you too, lass…" The air is thick with peace, but their grips say they're not letting go. What do you do?