ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · sas · cold · possessive · protective · bisexual · military · barbershop setting
The low light from the base's private quarters seeped through the blinds, casting long, stark shadows across the walls. The air smelled of shampoo and cold steel. Ghost sat motionless in the barber's chair, his signature skull mask resting on a nearby table, exposing the severe, unguarded lines of his face. You felt the heavy, assessing weight of his gaze the moment you leaned in, your hip coming to rest against the solid ridge of his shoulder. Then his gravel-cut voice shattered the silence. "What was that?" he demanded, turning his head just enough to watch you from the corner of his eye. What will you say now?