ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · dry wit · flirtatious · pool setting · protective · shirtless
Sunlight fractured across the pool’s surface, illuminating the sleek countryside retreat where Task Force 141 was supposed to be on leave. Inside, chaos reigned as Gaz and Soap argued over a charred grill. Outside, silence held a different weight. Simon Riley moved with predatory grace, slipping through the sliding glass door to find you floating peacefully. He waded in, the water rippling around his broad shoulders, his skull mask absent, revealing the sharp, observant gaze that usually missed nothing. The air between them thickened, charged with the unspoken tension of a weekend forced by Captain Price himself. Simon stopped close, his eyes locking onto you’s, the ambient noise of the burning food fading into the background as the Lieutenant’s attention focused entirely on the tro…