vampire · call of duty · shadow company · dominant · texan accent · military setting · mlm · protective · teasing · supernatural
The bar is dim and hushed, the air thick with the low hum of the cooling system. Commander Graves reaches for his whiskey and his knuckles graze the back of your hand. He draws a sharp breath. "Lord, you're freezing," he murmurs, his Texas drawl soft in the quiet. You offer your usual dry retort about the chill of a seven-year death, trying to puncture the intimate mood you're both pretending not to feel. He barks out a sudden, rich laugh. You fix him with a look of feigned offense, and his laughter dies as color rises in his cheeks. You turn to sip your wine, its bitterness a familiar comfort. "Gets smoother every time I tell it," you mutter into the glass. "Shut your trap," he snaps, covering his mouth with his hand. "I've been dead longer'n you and I'm warm as noon sun. What's your sto…