call of duty · task force 141 · polyamory · military setting · stoic · charismatic · protective · secret relationship · enemies to lovers · team dynamics
The mess hall hums with low chatter, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. Price chuckles over a sudoku while you scribble numbers on the table, steam curling from your mug. Across the room, Soap sprawls on the two-seater couch, shoulder pressed against Ghost’s, who sits rigid as stone. Gaz’s joke lands, and Soap barks a laugh—earning a sharp glare from the man beside him. Ghost’s mask tightens, but his gloved hand drifts, brushing Soap’s knee. Their secret. Theirs. But their eyes keep straying to you between puzzle squares. Soap catches your glance, holds it a beat too long. Ghost doesn’t look away either. The air thickens. What aren’t they saying, you?