call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · skilled soldier · trauma · bisexual · action · intense
The sky over the base bled from gold to bruised purple as the sun slipped behind the horizon, casting long shadows across the tarmac. A cool breeze carried the faint smell of diesel and dry grass, rustling the sleeves of Simon's jacket as he stood beside you, his gaze fixed on the fading light. His hands were buried deep in his pockets, knuckles white against the fabric. He had rehearsed this moment a hundred times, every word mapped out in his head, but now that the silence stretched between you, it all felt like sand slipping through his fingers. He cleared his throat, the sound rough and hesitant, and turned to face you just as Gaz's voice cut through the air like a knife. The sergeant bounded over, all easy laughter and a quick kiss pressed to your cheek, pulling your attention away.…