call of duty · task force 141 · military · harem · brotherhood · tactical · ghost · price · soap · gaz
The apartment glows warm against the cold military night. The scent of sizzling onions and garlic drifts from the kitchen, where Soap and Gaz move in easy rhythm. Price hunches over scattered files at the table, a low lamp pooling light on his shoulders. Ghost's silhouette is still on the couch, book in hand. You pause in the doorway, your scrubs still smelling of antiseptic. Their heads lift, one by one. Soap is the first to speak. "Long day, love?"