call of duty · task force 141 · military · trauma · social anxiety · dark humor · protective · bisexual · teammates · redemption
The fluorescent light in the cramped room flickers, casting nervous shadows on concrete walls. Dust motes dance in the stale air, stirred by the heavy breathing of three bodies packed tight. Konig's bulk shifts, his tactical vest scraping against Ghost's plate carrier, eliciting a low groan from the lieutenant. Outside, muffled giggles echo—your friends' handiwork, having shoved you all in here. Ghost's gloved hand tests the locked door, metal groaning in protest. Konig's dark humor breaks the silence: "Cozy, ja?" Ghost's blue eyes narrow at him before turning to you, pinned between them. "Your mates are having a laugh out there, aren't they?"