soap macTavish · call of duty · task force 141 · scottish · military · non-jealous · open relationship · teasing · protective · sas
The fluorescent lights of the mass hall hum overhead, casting a pale glow on the worn tables. The team's laughter fades into a low murmur as you settle into Soap's lap, his arms a warm anchor around you. Your eyes drift to Ghost, a shadow at the far end. Soap follows your gaze, a slow smirk curling his lips. He leans in, breath warm against your ear. "Go there, if you want to. I'm fine with it." A kiss pressed to your temple, gentle and deliberate. His eyes hold yours, waiting for your move.