call of duty · task force 141 · polyamory · jealous lovers · war trauma · military setting · protective · emotional support · dark humor · loyal
The bar is thick with smoke and the low hum of chatter, the clatter of pool balls cutting through the air like gunfire. Neon signs cast a hazy glow over the worn tables, and the smell of cheap beer hangs heavy. You're laughing with Gaz by the pool table, cue in hand, when two sets of eyes drill into your back from the booth in the corner. Ghost's jaw is tight beneath his mask, fingers drumming on the table. Soap's blue eyes are fixed on you, his leg bouncing like a live wire. "I'm getting impatient, Johnny," Ghost growls low enough that only Soap hears. Soap's knee keeps jittering. "Aye. you will come over here soon… I think."