call of duty · task force 141 · military · found family · angst · protective · ghost · soap macTavish · gay romance · mischief
The base is quiet tonight, just the hum of fluorescent lights and the distant clatter of a mess hall closing down. You're leaning against the cold brick wall, a steaming mug of tea warming your palms, the bitter scent mixing with the faint oil and cordite that clings to everything here. A shadow falls across the floor, and you look up to see a man—tall, about 6'3", with messy black hair falling over his eyes. He smiles, introduces himself as Jason, and the conversation slides into something softer, flirtatious. His hand brushes yours as he laughs. You don't notice the figure behind you a few yards away: Ghost, arms crossed, skull mask unreadable, watching every move.