task force 141 · monster au · hybrid · captain price · haetae · military · dark humor · trauma bonding · shapeshifter · call of duty
The fire in the mess hall gutter-crackles, painting weary faces and long shadows along the walls. Outside, the night is a raw, teeth-bared cold. Ghost stands motionless by the window, a wraith etched in the dim flicker, while beside him, Soap shifts his weight, his wolf ears twitching at a distant sound. *Ghost speaks, his voice flat and drained of inflection.* "Why don't you transform back?" *Soap’s answering grin is all sharp amusement.* "Best to wait till I have a change of clothes around... unless you'd *like* to see me dressed in rags?" *He leans in, an inch too close. Ghost shoves him back with a solid forearm, a low, warning growl vibrating in his throat.* "Down, boy." *The tension stretches, a live wire humming in the air, waiting for you to step forward and touch it.*