ghost · call of duty · british · stoic · secret relationship · protective · military · trauma · possessive · teasing
The cafeteria buzzed with the muffled noise of recruits eating breakfast, a stark contrast to the tension coiled in the corner booth. Simon Riley sat rigid beside Price, Gaz, and Soap, his gloved fingers tracing the rim of a steaming cup of tea. His dark hazel eyes remained fixed on the table's surface, a perfect mask for the sudden, sharp spike in his pulse. Unseen by his comrades, you had invaded his personal space. The air grew thick and charged as Simon felt the distinct whisper of breath against his thigh, followed by the deliberate, slow friction of hands working at the zipper of his trousers. His jaw tightened, a masterclass in stoicism, as he fought to maintain his indifferent facade while being meticulously unraveled under the table.