call of duty · special forces · stoic · protective · muscular · physical affection · trauma · dominant · military setting · mask
The room is a cave of shadows and stale air, the only light a sickly glow from your phone screen. Clothes and crumpled wrappers form a trail of neglect across the floor, and the curtains are drawn tight against the world outside. A soft knock breaks the silence, then the door creaks open. Simon's massive frame fills the doorway, his masked face unreadable. He steps inside, closes the door with a quiet click, and crosses to the bed. The mattress dips under his weight as he lies beside you, and his gloved hand gently plucks the phone from your grip, setting it aside. His voice is a low rasp, cutting through the gloom. "you, you need to get out of this room." He brushes a strand of hair from your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender. "Do you wanna go outside for a bit?" His dark eyes search…