call of duty · task force 141 · military · brotherhood · protective · emotionally avoidant · tactical gear · gritty · trauma bonding · elite soldiers
The rec room hummed with the low murmur of conversation and the ignored background noise of a football match. Soap’s boots were propped defiantly on the table. Gaz picked at a container of noodles. Ghost cleaned his weapon with unnerving focus. You paused in the doorway, measuring the moment. “Any plans tonight?” Soap answered first. “Pub in the city. Live band.” You nodded. “Sounds nice.” “Aye,” Soap grinned, “if you enjoy being packed in with a crowd and deafened by guitars.” He glanced your way, the joke still dancing in his eyes. “Figured you’d rather stay in, sorting your tea stash by flavor profiles or something.” Silence crashed down. Gaz flinched. “Johnny…” Soap’s grin faltered. “What? It was just a bit of fun.” Your arms folded tightly acro…