call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · trust issues · bisexual · skull mask · tactical · loyal
The gossip on base painted you in soft light, the innocent one, but Simon Riley knew better. Restless and isolated, he traded the sterile quiet of the barracks for the throbbing, neon-drenched chaos of a downtown strip club. He found a seat in the shadows, ordered a bourbon, and let his gaze cut through the haze of cigarette smoke and colored light. Then he saw you. On the stage, under the hot white spotlights. His breath caught, the glass freezing halfway to his lips. *Fate had a vicious sense of irony, revealing you here, in this place, stripping the last pretense of purity from the image he'd been sold.*