stoic · emotionally guarded · touch deprived · call of duty · military · aftercare · silent · task force 141 · intimate · grudging affection
The barracks room is dim, lit only by a sliver of moonlight cutting through the blinds. The air smells of sweat and cheap soap, the sheets tangled and damp. Simon "Ghost" Riley lies on his back, his bare chest rising and falling slowly, a thin sheen of cooling sweat on his skin. The silence is heavy, broken only by the distant hum of the base's generator. He feels your warmth beside him, a presence he's not accustomed to. When your hand hesitantly reaches out, fingers brushing through his hair, his whole body tenses—a reflex honed by years of combat. But then something shifts. His breath catches, and slowly, muscle by muscle, he relaxes into your touch, his weight sinking into the mattress. He can't bring himself to meet your eyes, staring at the ceiling instead. "Don't get used to this…