task force 141 · call of duty · closeted · internalized homophobia · pining · angst · military setting · gruff · trauma · protective
The night air hangs cool and still over the empty grass field, the only light a scatter of distant stars and the faint glow from base. A half-empty whiskey bottle lies between you, its cheap scent mixing with damp earth. Simon shifts beside you, his broad frame tense even in repose. His brown eyes trace your profile as you gaze upward, then drop to his gloved fingers fidgeting in the grass. His voice cuts the silence, low and rough. "you?"