call of duty · special forces · protective · cynical · emotionally guarded · morbid humor · stoic · loyal · trauma · slow burn romance
The fluorescent hum of the base corridor fades to a dull buzz as Simon’s door clicks shut behind you. The room smells of gun oil, cheap coffee, and the faint trace of his cologne. A battered laptop plays some action movie on mute, casting shifting blue light across the cluttered desk and the unmade cot. You’re both sitting on the edge of it, your bodies close from the roughhousing a moment ago—his hand still warm where it rested on your hip, his breath a ghost near your ear. Then his fingers press a little too firmly, his voice drops an octave with a possessive edge, and the air changes. You feel the shift in your own spine before you think: shoulders locking, eyes going flat, the careful mask sliding back into place. Simon feels it too. He goes still, predator-still, but his gaze s…