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soaps-hoe-141 · 2 years ago

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Drowning In The Depths

So my friend made a lil drawin of Price and Speck and I am absolutely in love with it. Look at them, cute af. Thank you for that @missmurder357

Part 5

Pairing: Price x Male!Reader

WC: 23.3k

Synopsis: Got a lil competition inbound, some more of Cerberus being the besto boi, and some NSFW content cause I truly just cannot stop myself. I am insatiable so feed

Warnings: NSFW smut, mentions of blood but I'm not describing it

The shower you'd shared with John hadn't lasted very long after you'd both already been satisfied for the time being. And as you both slipped back into the locker room you split up to head for your individual lockers. It was silent enough you could have heard a pin drop, not an awkward one though, it was comfortable. Like when you could call someone and just sit on the phone with them listening to their breathing for hours. You pulled on a pair of sweats and groaned as you took a seat on the bench in the aisle, hand sliding over the stitches in your thigh hidden beneath the fabric, testing the pain that sparked along your thigh at the touch.

Movement caught your eye and you turned to see John, now dressed in his jeans and t-shirt you’d seen on him earlier, those blue eyes watching you closely. As he took a step forward he asked, "You still good Speck?" His head tilted with the question, arms crossing as he neared you.

A slow nod followed his question in answer before you said, "Yeah I'm good." His eyes watched you, not believing you for a second and so you threw out the social niceties you usually stuck with when talking to people. A shrug lifted your shoulders before you grumbled out, "Tired. Been blown up,” you lifted the finger of one hand, “shot,” another finger raised, “knocked out, interrogated, fired I guess," you paused before muttering, "again," under your breath. That got the furrowed brow as you stared at the five fingers you’d already raised and lifted a second hand to count on it, "Got smacked in the face by a door. Almost got shot in the head. And then just got manhandled in a shower." One corner of the Brit’s mouth quirked up in a smug smirk before you huffed out and held up your eight fingers, "So yeah been a long damn day John. I'm fine, but I'm tired."

John nodded, smiling when you held up your hands to show him the tally, "That's fair." His eyes followed you as you stood back up from the bench and turned around to throw the two towels into your duffel bag. You needed to do laundry anyway, not like you had much to wash in the first place. After losing the one set of clothes to the explosion and subsequent blood stains, and even more to the makeshift bandages you were down to a pair of jeans, a pair of sweats, the pants you'd worn on the mission, and two t-shirts since you'd lost the other to your bloody nose. Well that and the Georgia Bulldogs hat you never went anywhere without, and the pair of cowboy boots shoved at the bottom of your bag with all the stuff that reminded you of home.

Arms wrapped around your bare torso without warning, his mouth beside your ear as he whispered, "You sure you don't want to come back with me, Love?" Oh God, you leaned back into him the moment that word left his mouth, "I've got all that room in my bunkhouse now since Ghost is gone. I'm sure the Lieutenant won't mind. Probably wouldn't even notice if you don't come back all night." It would be nice to sleep next to a warm body, well a warm body that wasn't a dog anyway. Like he was reading your mind he rumbled low, "He likes dogs. He'd take care of the pup. You wouldn't even have to ask, Love."

Oh yeah, you were liking the sound of this more and more. Every word he spoke was accompanied by a hum of satisfaction from your throat at the prospect. The pads of his fingers dragging their rough texture over the skin and soft curls of your bare abdomen. “Come back with me, yeah? I’d give you a nice massage, work all those aches out of your muscles.” A light kiss pressed against your neck before he suckled at the skin, you’d thought he was spent but apparently he was just getting started. “And then I’ll fuck you till the sun-” a buzz in the pocket of his jeans cut off his coming promises.

He froze and just like whenever your own phone had buzzed he waited as another notification went off. Damnit no, not now he was just getting to the good part, “Don’t stop now.” The request slipped out before you could stop it, and you could see the tumultuous look in his eyes. You could see his desire to listen but you knew the need to check was, annoyingly, far greater at the moment. Still his fingers squeezed into your flesh, stalled by your plea and yet still asking for your permission, “I didn’t mean that," you forced out a huff of amusement to put him at ease. "Answer it,” one hand pulled off of your stomach and slid into his pocket as he grabbed his phone, both of you frustrated with whoever it was currently trying to get in touch with the man behind you.

The phone was just out of your sight as he looked down at the message. It only took a couple seconds before he slid the phone back in his pocket, returning his hand to where it had previously been. “You gotta go then?” He nodded and hummed an affirmative against your shoulder, seeming almost disappointed in himself for leaving you behind. “I’ve gotta go see Soap anyway, you can give me that massage some other time. Not like I'm going anywhere yet right?” John seemed to tense at that, at the prospect you were going somewhere ever. He didn't seem to like that idea in the slightest and to be fair you didn't either but you doubted he got any say in upper management.

He pulled you tighter against him for just a few heartbeats before his hold began to loosen, “We should talk more though Speck. About us I mean,” the request made you tense up but he made an attempt to soothe your unseen worry with an easy smile. Quickly saying, "I'll let you know when I'm done,” he pulled away from you with one last squeeze at your hip. When you turned to find him he was already backing up towards the door, “Shouldn't be too long. They can't have gotten much out of the guy yet.” He seemed to think better of that statement and chuckled out a quick, “I hope,” before he unlocked the door and stepped out.

Alone again while you watched as the door closed behind him. He wanted to talk about you and him? Was there a you and John though? Sure it'd been some good fucks, well some really good fucks, but did that mean you were something now? Your only experiences with a relationship was a girl you'd gotten pregnant at eighteen and only married because that was what your parents had told you was the right thing to do. It'd been the only time you'd ever been with a girl before. You'd just wanted to see what it was like and to be honest you'd hated just about every second of it. But you'd been a horny teenager back then, you could have gotten off to a fuckin soup ladel back in those days.

But John was different, sure you'd recognized that the second he'd begged you on the couch to let him take care of you. When you'd said things you had no control over you knew he was unraveling you at your seams. But you weren't worth his time. You didn't even have a job anymore, and wasn't that all you were good for? That's what your ex-wife had always told you anyway. You remembered her vividly telling you, on more than one occasion that, "Since you can't take care of your kid, take care of this house, or take care of me I guess the only thing you're good for is that shitty paycheck you bring home every month. Even that doesn't take care of us though."

And she'd been right, the only thing you'd ever brought to your only real relationship had been disappointment, weariness, and nonchalance in regard to everything that had driven that woman up the walls. She could have screamed at you for an hour straight, she had before, and the most she'd get from you was a quiet nod or shrug. You never even fought back with her, it was how you'd been raised. Besides your job was to fight, to kill people, you didn't want to experience the same things just trying to sit at home and relax. Just give her what she wants and she will leave you alone. But you hadn't been able to give her what she wanted, she always asked for too much of what you didn't have.

Anxiety pounded in around you, clutched at your heart in a way that forced you to sit down on the bench. Good Lord, were you having a heart attack? You pressed your fingers to your neck, feeling for the pulse you knew would be racing just beneath the skin. Sure enough it was, your breathing getting rapid now as you fought the memories down. The other hand pressed to your chest, feeling the pound against your sternum. Letting your hands drop to your thighs you held them in an iron grip, arms shaking with the effort to control yourself. Can't control the past Speck, but you can control whether you pass out right here on this bench.

John isn't her, for one he's a fuckin man idiot, and God is he an attractive one. The thought washed a wave of amusement over you, a small smile turning up your mouth despite your racing heart. Here you were thinking you were in the middle of having a heart attack and you were still thinking about that damn Brit. A flash of his blue eyes in your mind broke your memories of the past, settled your racing mind long enough to feel the grip you currently had on your thigh. As well as the pain that was flared there the longer you held it. Your fingers released in a second and as you stared down a stain of blood spread on your jeans. "Damnit," you muttered, letting out a sharp sigh at the sight.

Always something. You didn’t bother with a shirt, Soap would make you take it off as soon as you got there to tend your wounds. Besides, both of yours smelt more than ripe and you weren't about to walk around after a shower smelling like sweat and wet dog. Slinging the packed duffel bag over one shoulder you headed back to the bunkhouses. Cerberus lifted his head when you came in, Ghost was nowhere to be seen still and he didn't look like he'd moved anything in yet either. "Hey Cerberus, you good in here?" His tail wagged lazily behind him but he made no attempt to move, exhausted after everything that had happened and still recovering.

To be fair if you weren't 100% sure you'd popped a stitch in your thigh you would have probably crawled into bed right then and there. But the little growing stain on your pants made it very clear you needed to go find the dark haired Scotsman. Leaning down you ran a hand over the top of his head, his fur had dried completely by now and the smell of wet dog had begun to dissipate, clinging only to the towel he’d been laying on. “Alright buddy, hier,” it took him a couple seconds to get up and make his way over to you. When he finally did, you patted your bed and said, “Hopp,” watching him jump up and look back at you before you finally said “Geh Schlafen.”

Cerberus immediately laid on his side, tail thumping a couple times against the sheets before he closed his eyes. You gave him another rub between the ears before heading back out the door. So close, nearly done. Just gotta get this checked out and then you can sleep for however long they allow it. One last push, that’s it, just one last push.

Down the stairs and down a couple bunkhouses until you get to the one that Soap and Gaz shared. Up the stairs and a light knock on the door. Your progress halted for a moment though not sure if you heard a voice inside or not. Another light knock and you were certain you heard a voice that time.

You pushed the door open and took half a step inside before your eyes locked on the bodies currently bent over the bed and half naked. The one behind with dark hair and a mohawk, that was Soap. The other with blonde hair that you didn’t recognize. They didn’t even turn around, probably hadn’t even heard you over their own sounds and the quiet words they were saying to one another.

Why didn’t they lock the door, Jesus Christ, so much mental scarring could have been avoided if they had just locked the damn door. Instead you pulled the door shut behind you, letting out a sigh as you took a seat on the step, rubbing at your eye while you shook your head. You’d already seen too much of these men’s personal lives, too damn much.

It wasn’t like you were trying to sneak up on anyone, you were just trying to get your wounds looked after by someone who had a little more than a staple gun to do it with. Slowly your head tilted as you thought to yourself, ‘Who was the guy Soap had been plowin?’ Big, bigger than you that was for sure. Huh. Well you’d see soon enough whenever they were finally done. If you made it that long anyway, they looked like they could go at it for hours in there.

In the meantime you sat on the porch, the stain on your leg growing slowly and the sounds inside the bunkhouse behind you increasing in volume right along with it. Base residents came by every now and then, probably taking a shortcut to wherever they were actually headed. They glanced at you on the steps with a weird look, probably wondering who the hell you were and why you were just sitting outside for no reason in this heat. That was a fair question you were beginning to ask yourself at this point.

Without even realizing it at first your leg began to bounce, a low grumble leaving you, “I need a pack of damn smokes. Wonder if anyone else on this team smokes.” A sigh left you as you reached to check your phone for the time but then remembered you no longer had one. Damnit why couldn’t you just sleep? Well you could always just duct tape something else to your leg…or just duct tape by itself since you were kind of running low on clothes now. It would hurt coming off, but damn if it wouldn’t be nice to go to sleep right now.

Fuck it. You pushed yourself up from the stairs and were about to head down when the door finally opened behind you. A masked face slipped out from behind the heavy door, freezing the moment hazel eyes landed on your face even as the door shut beside him. Your expression stayed flat, lips pinched into a tight line while an eyebrow raised curiously up at the Lieutenant. Well you’d found out who the big guy was, but damn if you wished you hadn’t. You know he really didn’t look like a blonde underneath all that grease paint and his mask.

“What are you doing here?” The thick accent fell out of the man’s mouth, almost catching you off guard. Yeah, definitely the Lieutenant. His shirt was incredibly wrinkled with the collar pulled halfway to the side and baring half of his shoulder. The balaclava was barely covering the neck you knew was sporting several hickeys and bite marks. You’d seen them on his pale flesh. Some were older than others so it was unlikely that this was the first time they’d ever been together. Unless this was some kind of Sacred Band of Thebes thing they all had going on, God you hoped not. You were pretty open minded but the idea of bouncing around from one guy to another was just not your forte. But then again…No, not for you.

The two of you continued to stare one another down for a moment, the memory of watching the two of them even if it had only been for a second was still trapped in your memory. He expected an answer though, or at the very least for you to get out of the way and quit blocking the stairs. “Soap said he wanted me to come by to put new bandages on. Hence the no shirt. Well that and it's freakin hot.” He nodded slowly, eyes narrowing at you through the mask before you asked, “What are you doin here though? You haven’t even moved your stuff over yet.”

You could see the flick of his eyes, the attempt to mask the truth as he did his face when he answered, “Same.” And the second you crested the top of the stairs he was moving by you and disappearing down the path. Presumably to move his stuff over to your shared bunkhouse. Shaking your head you pulled the door open. Immediately you were assaulted by the smell of sex in the room and turned to find Soap in only a pair of shorts laying on his bed with his hands behind his head.

He peeked open a single azure hue before closing them again, his smile beaming at the ceiling while he stretched out like a cat in the sun. Good Lord he was a cocky one wasn’t he. “Hey, I’m kinda tired. You mind being quick about this? Pretty sure I popped a stitch.” That caught his attention as he sat up, looking up at your bicep and forearm with a furrowed brow. You tapped your thigh instead and his eyes traveled down to the growing stain of red on your pants.

A finger pointed you to a chair as he pushed up from the bed, “Take yer pants off then Speck. Gotta plug yer leak first.” That turned the corner of your mouth up in a smile. At least he was funny after he made you wait on the damn stairs. He dug around under his bed for a second before dragging a big black bag out and dropping it in front of the chair you were sitting in. He plopped himself into the chair opposite you. Watching as you lifted your hips and slid your jeans down your thighs revealing the slowly leaking wound to him. “Damn, how’d you do that then?” He’d already donned a pair of gloves as he reached forward and inspected the wound carefully.

Shrugging you leaned back, “I’m not sure. I was just kind of squeezing my thigh and when I looked down it was bleeding through my jeans.” Soap gave you a skeptical look then, but didn’t question you further especially when you grumbled out, “Only got two pairs now. Two pairs of pants and two shirts, what a wardrobe. Gonna be walking outside as naked as the day I was born here soon.”

The Scotsman gave a low chuckle of amusement as he reached down to dig through the black bag, “Is that really all ye got?” Your quiet nod had him shaking his own head, “Ye might want to talk to Price about that. Or maybe Laswell since yer all about that covert shite." He pulled out a needle and worked to thread it, with his tongue sticking out just a bit between his teeth as he focused.

You watched for a few quiet seconds before asking, "So what was Ghost doing here? I was expecting him to already be sleeping. Everyone's gotta be exhausted after all that bs today." Blue eyes flicked to you as he missed the eye with the suture, scowling at the needle as he tried again.

Finally the suture threaded through and he finally answered, "He was just asking if we're working out tomorrow." He lied so easily it nearly made you smile and call him on it. There wasn’t even a hint of hesitation in his voice as he spoke, a masterful performance. You might have even believed him if you hadn't known any better.

The memory of their bodies slapping against one another still scarred your memory and burned your retinas though. "Huh, is that right?" He nodded his affirmative as you went quiet and he slid the needle through your skin, restitching the wound. Another question came to mind then, "Soap I've gotta be honest, you don't exactly look like a medic. You seem more like the guy Cerberus would alert to every time you're around. Explosions and fire and all that."

His smile reappeared on his face in an instant as he answered, "That's cause I am.” When he glanced up at you he caught your confusion so he explained, “Price sent me to learn all this stuff. He said I kept getting hurt or some shite, it was kind of funny actually there a few times. Said if I was the one that needed it all the time I should be able to fix myself up because apparently that’s just efficient or something. Which is pure mince.” You nodded at that, as he pulled out a roll of fresh bandages and started to wrap your thigh. "Besides no one else really knew any medical stuff back then so having someone who knows the basics at least is a good idea."

Another quiet nod and he taped off the bandage on your thigh, waiting till you pulled your jeans back up before he went to work on your arm. "Since you asked me a question I think I should get one myself." What’s the worst that could happen? Questions were harmless, you didn’t have to answer if you didn’t want to. Your quick nod was the only encouragement he needed to keep going, "So, what's up between you and the Captain? You two know each other or something?" Well that was a less than ideal question he could ask. Questions in fact were not harmless it seemed, and he more than expected an answer if the look he was giving you right now was anything to go by.

Shifting in the chair you leaned away from Soap trying to think of a viable answer before finally giving him a shrug not daring to meet his eye, “No one knows me Soap. That’s how it’s supposed to be. I’m just your average guy with a dog that you see walking down the street and then you forget. Nothing about me is memorable, nothing about me is meant to be recognizable. That’s the point.” He eyed you carefully, obviously your explanation wasn’t doing it for him. He knew you were avoiding answering the question. You couldn’t lie to him. Fuck, come up with something, say something, anything, “What about you and Ghost? What’s up with you two?” Now that shut him up. For a moment anyway.

Soap’s words clammed up in less than a second while he thought about how to answer that question. You watched as he leaned over your extended forearm wrapping the bandages around your wound, “He’s my friend and you’re avoiding my question Speck.” He smirked up at you through his long, dark lashes, “Why is he so pissed off at you?” Oh that’s what he’s talking about? Well shit you thought he’d figured out that John and you were doing the same thing that he and Ghost were.

Anger you could explain. Anger was easy for you, “Probably because I’ve been thwarting all of you for eight months and you couldn’t even figure out who I was, why I was doing it, or even how I was doing it. I showed all of you up with just me and a dog and a guy trying to kill me.” Soap pressed the tape on the end of the bandage at your forearm and narrowed his gaze at you with a good natured smirk on his face.

He moved up to your bicep and shook his head, “Oh now that’s jobby.” He pressed against the wound there to draw out another shift in the chair from you, “You didnae thwart us, you were taking their families ye bawbag.” You gave him a shrug as you looked down where he was wrapping your arm. You’d gotten the conversation away from you and John at least, but it still made you uncomfortable to talk about the people you’d hurt.

The look of nonchalance, the look that could have rivaled a corpse’s, spread over your face at the memory. The mask you put on to hide the feelings that raged beneath. “It doesn’t matter how I did it, Soap, it just matters that I did it. Me and a dog did what you and the rest of your squad couldn’t.” Soap scoffed at that as he slapped the tape onto the last bandage and you kept pushing his buttons with your words, “You and the rest of those guys never would have even gotten us if Cerb and I hadn’t just been put through an explosion.” The Scot sat back in his chair, mouth open in disbelief at what you were saying even with a smile on his face, “And don’t forget the fact that I was being chased by more than just yall.”

Soap crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head, “What ye think yer better than us then?” You gave a shrug with a smug look coming over your face in place of the nonchalance, “Oh now that’s just- No yer not, we could take ye even on yer best day. We are literally the best out there. That’s what we do,” Soap threw his used gloves into the trash as he stood back up, moving to put the bag back in its place as well.

You stood up and smirked, “Correction, you’re the best the United Kingdom has to offer. Not many to choose from there I’m afraid.” You saw the laugh shake his shoulders as he bent over, disbelief obvious in his gaze when he glanced back at you, “It’s a bet then Soap.” A dark brow raised at you in question, watching as he stood back up from where he was sliding the bag back under the bed. “Cerb and I win, you buy me a bottle of the good stuff, you guys win and I’ll admit the UK is better than the US.” You fixed a smug smirk to your face then, “We’ll wipe the floor with your asses. Easy as pie. Anything you want to do, we’ll win.”

A step towards you, crowding your personal space as you continued to smile down at him, “Yer on then. Tomorrow 13:00. Sound good ta you?” You tilted your head to one side, glancing above his head before tilting your head to the other side as if you were contemplating his challenge. Finally you gave him an answering nod, “Good then. Go get some sleep. I don’t want ye complaining tomorrow when ye lose.” Backing up slowly from him towards the door he added before you left, “Meet at the mess in the morning. I’ll let the guys know what we’re doing.” A quick nod and finally you were out the door, free to go back to your bunkhouse. Thank God.

Trudging up the stairs you headed into the shared bunkhouse. Ghost barely even glanced up at you from where he was laying down with his phone in his hand as he scrolled through something. Stripping free of your jeans you threw them on top of the duffel at the foot of the bed. You didn’t bother with the sheets too tired to move Cerberus who was in no shape to move off the bed anyway. His chocolate eyes followed you from where he was stretched out on the pillow. You wrapped around his body rather than move him, electing to use him as your pillow rather than the fresh pillow you’d been allotted for the time being. It didn’t even take five seconds once you’d pressed your face into the black void of fur before you were dead to the world around you.

There wasn’t nearly enough time between when your eyes closed and the furry, black pillow beneath you was shifting and whining. “Shh Cerb,” you groaned into his brindled fur but the second you spoke he was standing up and forcing you off. You rolled to your side and cracked open an eye, staring at the waving black tail that had made its way over towards the door. Your eyes closed against the harsh light streaming in through the two windows that all the bunkhouses sported. Surprisingly your internal alarm clock hadn’t woken you up and there was certainly no phone to do it instead.

The rumbling voice from the door was the only thing that jolted you back into the present and the situation you now found yourself in, “Good to see you’re still here.” John stood at the door bringing you back to reality and the memories that came with it. “Figured you ran off again or something,” your look of confusion as you sat yourself up on your elbow prompted him to clarify, “My bunkhouse. You were supposed to be there last night after you got through with Soap. I was waiting for you, Speck. Something happen?”

Ah shit, you’d completely forgotten about that after you’d made your bet with Soap. You’d been so exhausted, your entire body weary and aching, last night it’d slipped your mind as you basically fell into the bed across from Ghost. Instinctively you flicked your gaze to where the Lieutenant was supposed to be. Thankfully the bed was empty of the large body.

“I, um, I forgot, shit my bad” you answered lamely, sitting up in the bed with a grimace as the injuries flared to the forefront of your mind. You felt bruised and broken from everything that had happened. Battered from the explosion that had thrown your life into the chaotic mess that it was beginning to feel like now. “Sorry, I was exhausted, I didn’t mean to blow you off,” you pushed yourself up to the side of the bed, stretching your muscles out with a languid roll of your body. John was watching you as Cerberus paced the room back and forth, his energy reserves seemingly restored now.

Standing up on shaky legs you took a step forward, Cerberus darting in front of your feet and tripping you up accidentally. A strong hand splayed across your chest, your own hands grabbing hold of his sides as you steadied yourself. He was wearing clothes but you could still feel the warmth beneath the fabric of the fatigues he was wearing.

You could remember the scarred skin just beneath where your hand was resting on him. It was a bit jagged like he’d been cut with a knife there, and as you ran your fingers over it you swore you could feel the textured skin there. His whispered words against your ear had you struggling to breathe though as he asked, “You good there, Speck?” His fingers were wrapped around your ribs, and you became glaringly aware of the fact you weren’t wearing a shirt. Nor were you wearing any pants and the blood rushing below the waistband of your underwear was moving faster than a river.

Nodding quickly your voice went up an octave as you answered and tried to back up before you realized that would be ten times more embarrassing than just staying still, “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” You shifted in his grip, this wasn’t your fault right? You’d just woken up to the voice of the man you’d been wanting for eight months. One time in the shower wasn’t enough to end that streak of starvation. Clearing your throat you tried to keep your voice casual this time, “I’m sorry about last night, it was a long damn day John.” There was a smile on his mouth when you looked up, his brows raised in a way that was annoyingly endearing. Stepping back slowly you glanced out the window catching sight of the sun, “What time is it?”

The smile fell before he answered, “11:30 why?” Your eyes went wide in front of him, causing his dark brows to rise with a bit of worry in his gaze. Clothes, you need clothes, and Cerberus needs to take a piss and you need to take a piss. God too much to do and not enough time to do it before you had somewhere to be.

His hands let you go as you took a couple steps back and answered, “I made a bet with Soap yesterday to try and get out of his bunkhouse a little faster.” Turning you moved towards your duffel before going through the last pieces of clothes you currently owned. A quick sniff had you recoiling as you dropped it and shook your head in frustration, “Damnit I don’t even have pants.”

The man behind you cleared his throat and you turned to see him patting a set of fatigues as he laid them on the table. “He mentioned something about that at mess this morning. Laswell is handling getting you some other clothes for more clandestine things and another set of fatigues, but I had an extra set of these laying around for today at least.” Damn did that man look good standing in the light of the window with that little smile on his mouth. Knowing he'd just saved your ass from the shit talk Soap would have dished out for a lame excuse like 'I didn't have any pants.' God he was perfect.

Stepping towards him you smirked down at the clothes, flipping the collar back on the shirt before asking quietly, “How did you know my size?” Fingers grazed over your hip, his other hand reaching for your chin to tilt it up as he pressed a kiss to your lips. Once again stepping into your personal space with renewed fervor to taste and feel you. A deep hunger was aching in the both of you that hadn’t been satisfied by your relatively short time in the shower yesterday. It was not even a fraction of what you had missed out on over the past eight months. And in no way was it satisfied by what little time you'd been able to spend together so far.

His hand slid down your side, mirroring the other at your opposite hip. Lips danced over yours as his finger played a familiar tune over your bare skin, turning your thoughts to mush until you could think only of him. How did he do that? God he was absolutely magical. The hands at your hips moved around to dig into the flesh of your ass, and he smiled against your mouth as your hips rolled against his. Both of you finding a familiar ache that needed to be sated and knowing only one person could satisfy it right then and there. Your teeth sunk into his lip right before a whine sounded from the door, claws scratching against the doorframe and breaking your concentration.

There was a soft chuckle against your mouth as the hands pulled you flush against him again, a promise for later now as the both of you began to cool off. “I pay attention, Love,” he finally answered your question. Another quick kiss pressed against your lips before he pulled away and muttered, “Plus I have one of your shirts. You left it at my house that night,” his hands slid back up your back before he finally stepped back, just narrowly missing tripping over the now pacing dog.

A sigh fell out of you at the loss before you were able to get your head back on right. You glanced at Cerberus who was still pawing at the door with his quiet whines. Damn if you didn’t love that dog like your own son. “Thanks for the fatigues, you wouldn’t happen to know where Soap wants me to go, do you? Or maybe what he's cooked up?” You pulled the pants on as John watched with eyes that held nothing behind them but impure thoughts. Before you caught his attention with a quick wave and broke him from his trance anyway.

He sniffed and ran a hand over his mouth before shaking his head, “No clue what he has planned for you no. He just mentioned we’re all supposed to be at the mess by 13:00.” You pulled the shirt on over your head as he continued, "Figured I should come make sure you were awake. And, well, still intact enough for a bet." He eyed you with that smug smile that made that little voice in your head say, ‘Show him just how intact you are.’

Not right now though, you had a bet to win and a meal to eat. “Hier,” you said with a gruff voice, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as Cerberus ran at you, taking a seat between your knees while you fitted him with his vest and lead. Slipping it around your waist you stood back up and found John's gaze again, "So where's the mess then? Cerb and I need to eat before we do whatever this is." Your fingers ran over the head at your hip as the Brit led you out of the bunkhouse.

The mess hall was brimming with bodies, thick with the nearly overwhelming noise of idle chatter between friends. It seemed the lunch rush was already in full swing. Joining the line with the dog at your side, your eyes followed the Captain as he weaved through the people to a table occupied by the men you'd met in the squad. Even the blonde woman was there, the one who had taken the prisoner yesterday. Maybe you’d finally get to meet her then.

The line moved slowly as you filled your tray with enough food for you and to slip some to the Dutchie, protocols be damned. Dancing through the mingling bodies with Cerberus at your side you finally made your way to the table where everyone else was sitting. Konig, Watcher, Soap, and Ghost sat on one side with the blonde woman on one side of John and Gaz on the other. It left you with only one place to sit, across from your new roommate and next to Gaz. Cerberus laid down next to you on the floor, out of the way so no one kicked or tripped on him when they passed by..

Shoveling in a mouthful of food you finally tuned into the conversation they were all having. "-heard Cap so panicked. Thought he was gonnae stroke out when I found the earpiece all smashed to wee bits on the ground. Sayin’ the feckers done run off without us." Watcher gulped down some of his drink, a smile on his face as he sat between Soap and Konig.

"Da," Konig answered as he looked between the blonde woman and Gaz. "He had that man on the ground yelling at him. The whole time the man is just yelling back 'No English! No English!' And the Captain is still asking where Speck is and shaking him like a, um," the German paused. Turning to Watcher and asking, “How do you say Schlagsahne?” The ginger seemed to think for a second before he leaned over to whisper something to Konig and the big man nodded quickly, “Skooshy cream.” John was taking a chilled sip from his own glass, closing his eyes against the teasing from the team with a poorly hidden smile on his face.

You however were looking between them all and shaking your head before asking, “The fuck is skooshy cream?” Eyes turned to you, seeming to just notice you’d sat down. Meanwhile your eyebrows were still raised in question, wondering what the hell they were talking about.

Gaz laughed beside you and shrugged, “You know mate, the squirty cream you get from the supermarket. You shake it up real good, it’s white and foamy.”

Another shake of your head in confusion as you asked, “Are ya talkin about shaving cream?” The Brits around you shook their heads in unison, you could even see amusement hidden in the hazel eyes across from you behind his mask. The big man tilted his head back and you saw his mouth open beneath the mask, acting like he was spraying something inside. Your head tilted until Soap finally made the spray noise to accompany it and it finally clicked, “Oh! I get it, you’re talking about whipped cream. You brits and your weird ass names, I swear man.” You shook your head and took a bite from the pile of food on your plate before slipping an apple slice down to the dog beneath you.

John was the one who made a disagreeing noise in his throat as he leaned forward on the table to look past Gaz at you. “Our weird names? It’s not our fault Americans don’t know proper English.” There was a smirk on his face when you looked sideways at him, nearly choking as you tried to laugh and forgot you were still stuffing your face full of food.

He watched as you chewed a forkful of the food, finally swallowing down most of it so you could actually take in a breath and answer, “Proper English? Not my fault Americans learned how to say everything we need to in the least amount of words possible. Yall are just jealous cause you’re over there piecing together thirty sentences to say what we can say in ten words or less.” Taking a long drink from your cup of water you pulled the tray of food closer and leaned over to take another bite. You hadn’t realized just how hungry you were before but it had been way too long since you’d last eaten a real meal.

It was Soap who finally turned to you and asked, "Alright, alright so what the fuck actually happened in there huh? You went in and all we could hear was, 'blah blah bark growl blah' from yer mic and then a gunshot." The Scotsman didn't even attempt to mimic the languages you had been speaking inside the home, knowing he would never be able to even come close, especially only from the memory of you speaking.

You smiled around your mouthful of food and shook your head, avoiding the eyes on you from around the table. Ripping off a piece of the meaty portion of whatever this was you’d gotten from selection available. A hand slipped under the table and you felt Cerberus licking it off the tips of your fingers before his head fell back to the floor. You expected all of them to have been back to talking to one another but instead they were still watching you expectantly, waiting for you to give your account after having heard everyone else’s side of the story.

Shifting on the bench seat, no longer used to having so much attention on you, you gave a quick shrug, "He told me we couldn't talk outside so I followed him in. Figured I was dead whether I went inside or refused so might as well make an attempt to get what we needed. Plus I had Cerberus and he wasn't alerting so I figured…Fuck it, you know?" Chuckles in varying degrees of cynicism echoed around the table as you lifted your cup to your lips and took a long drink of water.

A raised hand from the man beside you stopped you from going on as he asked, “Fuck it? That’s the only plan you had?”

Swallowing hard you shrugged and nodded at Gaz, “Well yeah. Fuck it is about the only thing I think when I’m making a decision. Either I don’t go in and I come back empty handed and you kill me for not keeping up my end of the deal,” you paused to see Ghost nod slowly and continued, “Or I go in and they kill me the second the door is closed. At least goin in I didn’t have to worry about getting smacked in the skull by a sniper I couldn’t see however many yards away. So I went in.” The others around the table seemed to be both confused and concerned.

All except for Ghost who was nodding as if he agreed with your assessment of the situation you’d been in at the time. “Well he was acting weird so I asked him if someone else was inside the building and low and behold there was. He failed to mention there was another exit back there or that there were two of them, but whatever. So I grabbed a knife from the kitchen and went to the first door down the hall. And I would have commed you but I couldn't exactly speak in English at the time. Didn’t want them to know I was coming. That’s why I switched from Pashto to Farsi mid-conversation." You paused to take another drink and another bite of the food, handing some more down to Cerberus.

Watcher raised his hand then and you glanced at him, head tilting before he asked, “You speak Pashto and Farsi?” A quick nod had him asking another question before you could speak, “How many languages do you actually speak?” He seemed simply curious but it had you shifting on the bench again. People only asked that question when they thought they could exploit it, at least that was usually your experience with them anyway.

When the others seemed to get a hint of curiosity though you got the sense you were expected to answer. “Well if you’re talking about just straight up fluency then ten. If you’re talking about how many languages I know enough of and understand enough of to hold a basic conversation then it gets a bit muddy.” The confusion around the table prompted you to clarify as you cleared your throat and sat up, “So technically I know Arabic, Pashto, Farsi, Spanish, English, Hebrew, Swahili, Zulu, Yoruba, and Oromo all fluently. However, I do know some basics in the Niger-Congo dialects but there are so many dialects in that region it’s kind of hard to count how many I would actually be able to speak and converse in and understand.” The eyes around the table were beginning to make you uncomfortable with their stares as you added quickly, “So yeah, I speak ten languages fluently.”

Another shovel of food to take a quick breather as well as a drink before you continued, "So I went to the first door in the hall. Had Cerberus go in first but the guy we tracked down got out through another door and then out the back exit. I didn’t know there were two doors for one room, you know? So I went after him down the hall with Cerberus but all the sudden I get smacked in the face by a fuckin door. There was another guy in one of the rooms." You shrugged and tilted your head, "And I took that personally. So I put a knife through his arm, sent Cerberus in through the door, and then I took his gun. Must have lost the earpiece during that little altercation, you all saw the rest though I guess. Saw enough to find me at least." Ripping another portion of the meat off you slipped it under the table to the waiting dog beneath.

Gaz clapped you on the back and shook his head, "Fuck it, mate." You nodded at that and tipped your cup towards them before tilting it back and downing what was left of the water. The dark skinned Brit beside you turned to Soap then and leaned forward, “So now that we’re all finally here are you gonna tell us what’s going on?” The dark haired Scotsman glanced your way as if you were gonna say something but you were still downing your breakfast and lunch combo, too busy to pay him any mind now. Besides you were finally out of the spotlight you weren’t about to thrust yourself back in unnecessarily.

Soap finally cleared his throat and said, “Well cowboy over there and me made a bet yesterday. He thinks he’s better than us.” Eyes turned to you in unison and you shot your gaze back down to the plate feigning more interest in whatever this jelly-like stuff on your plate was than the conversation currently being had. “So I figured we’d put him to the test, lads. Sniping, clearing house, I mean the works, see how good he really is. If we win he has to admit that the UK, and more importantly Scotland, is better than the US. If he wins we pitch in and buy him a bottle of the good stuff.”

They all acted as if they weren’t interested in what Soap was selling, but anything having to do with competition and bets had more than piqued their interest. The woman on the other side of John spoke up next, “So then what am I doing here Soap? I’m not involved in this.” Another American? Huh, that was interesting.

The Scot held up a finger and nodded, “Aye ye are Laswell. You’re gonna be our neutral party and therefore our scorekeeper.” She seemed to think for a moment before finally nodding her agreement and Soap cast his glance around the others sitting at the table, “So how’s about it lads?” Sounds of agreement rose up from everyone at the table then as Soap turned your way, “Whenever you’re done eating then, Speck.” You smirked his way and lowered the tray below the table.

Cerberus finished off the rest of the food on the tray before you slid it back on the table and shrugged at Soap, “We’re ready.” Soap pushed up from the table, beckoning everyone with a wave of his hand out of the still crowded mess hall. The group followed in staggered packs, Laswell talked quietly with Watcher and John while Gaz and Ghost muttered together and Konig and Soap were joking together as they led yall. You lagged behind the group, watching them all with quiet interest. They’d definitely been together a long time, and they obviously had deep roots with one another.

“First up,” Soap’s voice drug your attention up from the asphalt you’d been watching pass underfoot, “Who is the better sniper?”

You glanced between the sniper rifles on display and the men who were obviously pleased with this being the first challenge, “You know Soap when I said we’d beat you at anything I meant more like cleaning house drills.Things that tested both Cerberus and I, not seeing who the better sniper is.” The dog barked unprompted at that, as if he agreed and wanted something to do now that yall were up and moving.

Ghost huffed as he grabbed one of the rifles off the table, inspecting it for a moment before he said, “Cause you know you’re going to lose. Now hurry up,” he started towards the three stations already setup. You lost track of him as you turned back to the tables.

Two more rifles were currently waiting on the table in front of you. Your head tilted as you looked at them taking a step forward and jokingly asked the Scotsman, “What’s this one for Soap? Is Cerberus supposed to be taking shots now too or something?”

A deep voice made you tense then as it answered for Soap right by your shoulder, “That would be mine, Speck.” John took his rifle off the table and followed Ghost to the three stations currently set up for yall. You shook your head and let out the breath you'd sucked in, a quick glare flashing down at the rifle. “So what then yall get two tries and I only get one?” You questioned Soap as you followed behind the other two men.

The Scotsman shook his head following beside you, “You’ll get two tries, the best of those two will be what Laswell scores. They each get one try,” he pointed to John and Ghost in turn. You gave a slow nod of understanding before Soap added with a grin, “Unless Cerberus wants to take your second set of shots for you. He might be better than you, Speck.”

Your eyes locked onto Soap before you muttered, “Brummen,” listening to Cerberus’ growl rumble out of him towards the shorter Scotsman. The little flinch made you smile as you reached down to run a hand over the dog’s head, chuckling at his reaction.

“Would ye stop doing that?” Soap sounded exasperated but you could see smiles from the others behind you. “He’s going to start thinking I’m lunch or something!” The man grumbled at you before pointing to your target down range, “Get ready. Or you won’t be winning shite,” another light chuckle left you as you knelt. Casting a glance to your left and right where Ghost and Price were already sighting down range you knew this was going to be bad. Christ you were about to get fucked in this first competition and you could already taste it. Just swallow the bitter pill and get this done with, you’d hit it out of the park with the next one…hopefully.

Setting the rifle down you laid on your stomach, glancing to your right and muttering, “Platz.” The dog sunk down to his belly and you set the stock against your shoulder. Aiming down the sights you let out a sigh, muttering to the Dutchie beside you, “Hope you’re ready Cerb, we’re gonna have to blow it out the water after this.” You caught sight of Ghost on your left turning your way, watching as you fiddled with the scope for a second and adjusted yourself on the ground.

The Scottish voice behind you caught everyone’s attention, all three of you on the ground rolling to look behind you at the man, “Ok boys! You each get five shots at five hundred yards. Except for Speck he gets ten, five on each of the two targets down range.” They both glanced your way before nodding and letting the Scot finish, “The best out of Price and Ghost gets judged for us, and the best out of both of Speck’s gets judged for him. Laswell is keeping score. Got it?” The Scotsman received three quick thumbs up as the three of you rolled back to your stomachs.

It was the woman who took over after that, “Ghost you’re going first. Ready Lieutenant?” It took a few long moments before Laswell finally said, “Fire when ready then.” You watched the man closely, his chest rising and falling with slow breaths until the gun finally went off. A resounding bang echoed by your ears, the other four shots coming in quick succession once he’d gotten a good feel for the trigger.

He flipped the safety back on and let the stock of the gun settle back on the ground as he sat back on his knees. He turned back to Laswell and you listened as the woman said, “That’s gonna be hard to beat.” You turned to catch sight of her with a pair of binoculars up to her eyes as she stared at the target Ghost had been aiming at.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath. Running a hand over your forehead as you turned towards Ghost, “How bad is it?” The Lieutenant glanced your way and you heard the laugh from him rather than see it with his mask still on. The big man shook his head as he continued to stare down range. Well that was definitely not a good sign.

Shifting on the ground you picked the stock of the gun back up, holding it to your shoulder as you sighted down range. Ghost was still chuckling to your left while you could hear the others whispering behind you. “You’re fucked Speck,” the deep British voices on either side of you were finally kind enough to inform you.

You cast a sideways look at them before sighing out, “Yeah no shit, Sherlock.” Aiming at the target you took in a breath and flipped the safety off. As you let out your next breath you squeezed the trigger, nearly surprised when it finally went off. A bit heavier than you were expecting but hey you hit the target. Half a foot below the inner red. “Son of a bitch,” you adjusted slowly to the quiet laughs around you, putting them out of your head. Never had you claimed to be a sniper, and thank fuck for that or this would have been so far past embarassing.

Another shot and this one was three inches too low, and it drew out another round of laughs. Again you adjusted and the shot went high this time. Too much. “Are you even trying, Cowboy?” Soap asked behind you and you raised a hand over your shoulder, middle finger high in the air in a one finger salute. “No sniper school in the US then?” You shook your head and adjusted again, this time the bullet hit the edge of the red at least.

The next two shots danced around the red and then your first set of shots were done. Laswell hummed behind you and said quickly, “That certainly isn’t gonna do it Speck. You’re up John,” your eyes flicked over to the man on your right. He was stock still, but you didn’t see tension in his form. You could see the rise of his back with every inhale, and the fall every time a breath left him. He held the stock of the rifle against his shoulder, staring down the range at his target.

The sight was akin to watching a painter envisioning their masterpiece before putting it on canvas. Or a composer hearing a tune in their head before they played it. To be completely frank he was beautiful and 100% without a doubt completely in his element. And you, well you were so completely distracted by him he could have aimed the rifle right at your head and you'd have been none the wiser. Too busy admiring the way his body seemed to relax into the rifle at his shoulder, more than comfortable with the weight against him.

He took a few moments longer to set up his shots than Ghost had, adjusting the scope of the rifle a couple times, whispering something to himself about wind and bullet drop. However when he took them it was in much quicker succession, emptying his clip in under seven seconds, you counted every single one, before lowering the stock to the ground and sitting back on his heels. “Nice grouping John, you’re getting a bit slow though. Should start taking more shots at the range,” he huffed to your right and when you glanced back Laswell was smirking behind the binoculars. They were obviously joking, so they’d definitely known each other for a while.

It brought the question to your mind again: Who even was this woman? You had yet to be formally introduced to her but the rest of the squad seemed familiar with her. It was just you in the dark at this point then it would seem. Though you wished you had been acquainted with the only other American on your new team. "Last round for you Speck, fire when ready." Her voice broke you from your thoughts and you shifted on the ground again, aiming to the target on the right this time.

Just breathe and squeeze the trigger slowly, and don't make a fuckin fool of yourself. That's it, that's all you gotta do. Deep breathe in, stock of the gun to your shoulder, safety off, deep breath out, squeeze the trigger, gun fires, red dot hit. It was the first one you'd managed to get a clean shot on yet and pride ran through you at the accomplishment. Don't get cocky now though, you've still got four more to hit. Another shot, and another clean hit through the red, nearly flush through the first hole. Another shot and it veered an eighth of an inch to the left, but it was still cleanly through the red. Three down and two more to go, you've got this Speck just keep breathing. Another shot and you're over adjusting again, calm down, half in the red and half off, you could hear the woman behind you already docking your score. One last shot then you were done, and that's when it always falls apart isn't it. A beautiful pattern and grouping thrown off by a wind you couldn't possibly have foreseen.

The shot goes wide to the left, missing the red by an inch. You push yourself up to sit back on your heels, hands bracing on your thigh as you glance over your shoulder at the woman. It wasn't necessary though, you already knew you'd lost. She shakes her head, "141 gets the first win." Soap pumps a fist in the air, quietly celebrating their win as you turn back to look at the targets set up down range.

John and Ghost stand up on either side of you, the Lieutenant asking Laswell, "Who did better? Me or the old man?" Old man? John was far from old, or maybe you were just saying that cause he made you feel like a teenager again. That was certainly a possibility. Laswell however wasn't divulging that information as she handed Soap his binoculars and stepped away from the two men. "Come on Laswell, who won?" She merely shook her head much to the Lieutenant's annoyance.

Standing up you grabbed your rifle, putting it back where you'd found it on the table and glancing at Soap. He was smirking as he watched you, but he was quick to stop when you gave a little smile and chuckle. Losing at this wasn't worth being upset over, "I'm not a sniper Soap. I got a dog so I never had to do all that math and bullshit." John laughed as he put his rifle back on the table as well and joined the others of the group, shaking his head as he went. It was the truth though, you'd gone to EOD training before you'd let them throw you into marksman training, fuck math. "What's next Soap? I'm dying to know."

The Scotsman cleared his throat and caught the attention of everyone once again as they all quieted around you, "We're running the obstacle course next, get ready!" Groans resounded from many a mouth as Soap shot glares around to the rest of the squad, "This is for our pride as men, as Scots and Brits and Germans. Git yer heads on right lads, we have a competition to win." They all looked at one another, he was surprisingly motivating when properly motivated himself.

John however was not taking the Scot's bait, "I'm not running the obstacle course Soap. If he manages to beat every single one of you at it with a dog strapped to his waist then he can have that win as far as I'm concerned." You smirked at the men in front of you, now an obstacle course that you could do. Both you and Cerberus were more than capable of giving them a run for their money on that.

The Scotsman seemed to think on it for a moment before nodding, it wasn't worth it to argue with John on this, "Fair enough, Captain. You can go with Laswell and wait for us at the end then." With that the blonde American and the brunette Brit headed off in their own direction, muttering together as they went. Soap turned to the rest of you and beckoned you all with a wave, "Alright so it's a five kilometer circuit. Speed and stamina, you've gotta have both if you want to win this." You most certainly did, five kilometers so that was three miles. Shit that was easy pickings for you and Cerberus, that was less than a daily run for the two of you.

Stopping next to a wooden marker, Soap turned back to you, "There are obstacles along the way that both you and the dog have to get over. Don't cheat, man that's just sad, aye?" You gave him a nod, like momma always says God don't like cheaters. "Unless there is physically no way for Cerb to do it, like with the tire flips." Another nod and he pointed at the line drawn in the dirt in front of you. "Line up then, I'll let the Lieutenant count it down though. Have at it Ghost," the Scotsman shot the big man a smile as he joined the growing line of men.

It was you, Cerberus, Ghost, Gaz, Konig, Watcher, and Soap all at the line as you unclipped the lead from Cerberus' collar and whispered, "Fuss." He was attached to your hip, looking up at you with his tail wagging behind him. You had to give it to the Dutchie, he was always up for some friendly competition. Especially when it came in the form of showing off his athletic abilities.

Ghost cleared his throat and took a look over everyone's head down the line on either side before saying, "On go. You go before I'll drag you back and have you doing push-ups till you pass out." He got quiet noises of agreement from the men around him, including one from you and a soft yip from Cerberus at your prompting. Another glance down the line before he said, "3, 2, 1," he paused to glare, assuring no one was making an early break, and then yelled, "Go!"

You took off, Cerberus bounding at your side along the clearly marked trail. Your thigh was already starting to burn, and fuck if that bandage wasn't chaffing the shit out of you. You would be aching all over by the end of this thing and you knew that for a fact. Ignore it. You had a task right now and you would be damned if you weren't about to clean up at this thing. Watcher and Konig were the first two to fall behind the speeding group, though to be fair neither seemed all that interested in the competition to begin with. Especially not when it came to running the course, the two two seemed more than happy just to watch everyone else duking it out. They were probably just in this for the PT at this point, the PT and the laughs.

Coming around the bend you hit the first obstacle, a crawl through the mud under rope netting you dove to your stomach. Cerberus was right behind you, you could feel him inching forward between your thighs as you both crawled through. Ghost, Soap, and Gaz were on par with you, trudging through the silty dirt at your shoulder. The second you were out from under the netting you were back on your feet and running. Cerberus let out a few loud barks behind you before he caught up, sticking to you like glue as he always did. Though you had to admit he was pushing you faster than you were used to, it was like the Dutchie knew you were competing and was trying to get you moving faster.

None of you seemed willing to give in at this point, arms pumping as you all urged more speed into your already grueling pace. It was doubtful they were even considering the length of this course at this point, more focused on not letting you and Cerberus out of sight. They weren't considering that you'd been running at a dog's pace for nearly twenty years straight, even longer than that really. This pace was as close to a jog as Cerberus would let you run. Having to keep up with the most athletic animals in the world had made this easier than they could ever imagine though.

The tire flips were where you finally started to pull ahead. Despite the burn in your thigh and arm at every flip of the huge rubber obstacle you made it to the end first. Ghost was right behind you and the dog that was near howling at you like a drill sergeant to go faster. The big man was struggling though, he was fast but could he keep that pace up the whole run? Maybe if it weren't for the thirty other things you had to do in between all that.

Your stomach nearly dropped at the sight of the next obstacle ahead. A moment of doubt in Cerberus' abilities wormed into your mind as you hesitated. Two platforms about ten yards apart from one another with thin rope nets, the holes big enough Cerberus could get his leg stuck if he wasn't careful. The two platforms were about twenty feet up in the air, with a ladder on one side and a rope down the other. Ghost pulled ahead of you as you hesitated a bit, reaching the ladder before you and starting the climb up with ease. Damn you should have been the first one on that ladder. You had to get up there before Soap and Gaz got here or else you were gonna be out of this. Fuck it.

You were right below Ghost as you started the climb, glancing down to the pacing dog beneath you and saying, "Hopp." It took him a second as he worked it out in his mind, looking up at the both of you climbing and turning the command over in his mind. This wasn't the first time Cerberus had climbed a ladder though and you were certain it wouldn't be the last. You were a quarter of the way up as the Dutchie started up the rungs finally. Just as Soap and Gaz came around the bend in the trail and watched the climbing dog with surprise in their eyes.

A smirk found your mouth as you focused again, pulling yourself onto the platform behind Ghost who was already crossing over the net with ease. By the time he was dropping down using the rope on the other side you were hauling Cerberus up onto the platform with you. "Hier Cerberus, kriechen," you started over the netting as he crawled behind you, albeit slower without the addition of opposable thumbs to grip onto the rope with. And the added danger of his limbs falling through the ropes.

Ghost had disappeared around the next bend but you could make it up, you had time. God you hoped you did anyway. Gaz and Soap both made it over to the other platform before Cerberus could get across to you, but as the Scotsman was climbing down he finally got to your side. Barking excitedly at you before you issued a quick, "Bleib," watching him settle as he inched towards the side. You grabbed the rope and climbed over the side of the platform, sliding down quickly. Feeling the burn in your hands as you did.

The second your feet hit the ground you yelled up to the dog who was still peeking over the side down at you, "Hier," and the missile came off over the side in a second. He was insane, Cerberus would have literally trusted you with anything. You held his very life in your hands with every decision you made and command you issued to him. The second he hit your arms his body turned to liquid and you softened his landing on the dirt. Forearms braced underneath his torso and feeling the way his muscles jarred at the impact. Within the next rapid heartbeat the two of you were running again. Ignoring the now climbing Watcher and Konig in favor of catching up to the disappearing Soap and Gaz.

There was no time for pacing yourself, not anymore. It was an all out sprint right by the two Sergeants even as Soap seemed to kick on another gear as he tried to keep pace though eventually he fell behind again. It took you longer than you expected to catch back up with Ghost though. He was halfway across the poles by the time you made it there. His elbows bent and his feet just above the ground as he used his hands to walk over the twenty yard span. Your shoulder was aching just thinking about it, but your pride would be aching more if you didn't get on with it and let yourself fall behind again.

Fuck it. Hands bracing on the metal you pushed yourself up on bent elbows. "Good lord," you muttered, an amused laugh coming from the man in front of you at the quiet curses falling from you. Pain was lancing through your whole shoulder now as a grimace bloomed on your face. But you were right behind the Lieutenant now, Cerberus pacing the twenty yards beside you and very nearly taking off with Ghost before he remembered he was with you, not the big man.

The second you were at the end and your boots touched the ground you were leaving Soap behind on the bars with the other quickly approaching Sergeant. "Christ, how is he so bloody fast!?" You heard the frustrated comment behind you from the Scotsman. There was no time or breath to answer him, you could only smile as you rounded the bend chasing after the Lieutenant.

As you came up on Ghost you could hear his rapid breaths. He'd been pushing too hard for too long, letting you and Cerberus run him at your pace rather than the pace he was used to. You pulled ahead, gliding by him seemingly with ease, though the hitch you could feel forming in your thigh knew otherwise. It couldn’t be too much further now, just keep ignoring it and finish strong. With no one left to chase it was just you at the pace you were comfortable with. Thigh and arm burning with the shocks of pain, still not really recovered from the aches and injuries of the day before but never would you willingly admit that. Lose or win you would take it in stride.

God, how long have you been running now? Just as the thought crossed your mind you caught sight of Laswell and John, both standing with crossed arms just beyond your last obstacle. A fifteen foot vertical wall with two ropes attached to either side. Could your shoulder even handle that? It hadn't even been able to hold your weight with the help of a climbing harness before. Oh this was gonna suck ass so much.

We're not stopping now, you didn't just run this whole course to give up at a frickin wall. "Bleib," the Dutchie stopped dead in his tracks, tail waving behind him as he watched you run towards the wall. Your foot found the wall first as you ran up, fingers wrapping around one of the ropes as you started the grueling climb, barely even glancing over your shoulder when you heard a curse. Cerberus’ barks followed after him but you didn’t have time to look behind you.

Ghost was here then. Move faster, Speck, because this big bitch will scale this wall in no time at all if you don’t. You slung your good arm over the top of the wall as you hauled yourself up. Cresting the wall you finally glanced down, he was halfway up this side. A smile found your mouth and you saw his eyes narrow behind the mask before you grabbed hold of the rope on the other side and slid down with a loud, "Oh fuck me!" Pain stung up your leg as you picked your foot up for a moment, but you could whine about it later. "Cerberus, hopp," you yelled back at the dog still waiting for you on the other side of the wall.

The Dutchie broke out at a sprint, Ghost stopping his climb as he hooked his arm over the top and looked back. Even from this side of the wall you heard the quiet comment from the Brit, "No fuckin way." Oh hell yeah. One of the most athletic animals in the world and you were so proud of the fact Cerberus was about to be able to show off in front of all of them.

Soap didn't stop his run for the wall as he came around the bend but you could see him staring wide eyed at the dog with Gaz right beside him. The two paused as they both grabbed hold of a rope and looked up. Cerberus scaled the wall faster than any man or woman could have. Running up the side with pure power and determination. He slowed as he reached the top, Ghost watching him hook his front paws over right beside him. His hind legs scrambled at the wood for a moment and worry coursed through you that he wasn’t going to make it. Fifteen feet was more than he’d ever climbed before. Shit had you pushed him too far?

A quiet whine echoed down from the Dutchie before you saw a gloved hand wrap into his scruff on the other side and give him the boost he needed to perch on the top of the wall. Right before he shot his body off the top and over the other side like the rocket he was born to be. You could see his eyes searching for you, your arms lifting to cradle his belly as he slammed into your arms and you softened his landing. You couldn't break it completely but you could minimize his risk of injury. It didn’t stop your own body from hurting but that was secondary to the pain of the animal’s. Protect him first and you could handle yourself afterwards.

The last couple of feet were easily yours as you finally collapsed beside Laswell and John with Cerberus barking wildly beside you already wanting to run the course again. The Brit was looking down at you with a smirk and his hands in his pockets, while Laswell was watching with narrowed eyes. You lifted a finger and said between heaving breaths, "One for me,” you held up your other hand with a little wince before finishing, “One for you." John shook his head and glanced down at his phone as he pulled it out of his pocket.

There were a few seconds of silence before he leaned over to whisper something to Laswell and then said to you, "That's a new record Speck. Congratulations. You beat Ghost’s old record by half a second." You gave him a thumbs up before letting the tired arms fall back over your eyes. Trying to get your breathing back under control.

Listening to Ghost hit the ground a few feet away before he too joined you with his heaving breaths, taking a seat with Soap and Gaz in tow. Konig and Watcher showed up a minute later, dropping down on the other side of the wall not breathing nearly as heavy as the rest of you had been. John didn’t seem too happy about their seeming laxness though as he told them, "Keep slacking like that, you'll be running the course for the next week. Until you pass out. Pick up the pace next time you two."

Watcher and Konig both nodded as the ginger answered for them, "Of course Captain. Sorry," and a few silent minutes passed as everyone caught their breaths.

Laswell finally broke it though with a quick, "Speck won that round just in case anyone was wondering." You shot a pleased smile at everyone gathered in the group then, rubbing Cerberus between the ears with a few quick and quiet words of praise for him.

Soap rolled his eyes though, "Yeah Laswell. Figured that one out when I watched his dog fly off the top of the wall like he was about to elbow drop a fucker through a table." A low laugh escaped you at the thought. God you loved this dog, "Alright whatever, next up we're cleaning house. Let's go," the Scotsman pushed himself to his feet helping Gaz up next to him.

A groan nearly fell out of you at the thought of moving now. You'd put everything into winning that obstacle course without any regard to the challenges that would come after it. Now your shoulder was aching and your thigh was burning. A break was what you needed but the reprieve wasn't coming any time soon sadly. Instead a hand was thrust into your line of sight, the familiar calluses drawing your eyes up the long arm to his ocean hues. Taking hold of John’s hand he helped you to your feet, waiting as you clipped Cerberus' lead back on his collar before you both trailed after the rest of the squad.

His voice was quiet, meant only for you as he whispered, "I didn't think you would be able to beat Ghost honestly. That was impressive. He has held that record for a long time now," his eyes found you for a quick moment before he focused on the group ahead. The praise pulsed through every limb, invigorating your once tired body. Striking new life into your exhausted limbs, "You're looking a bit tired though, Speck. Does that mean you're not coming with me to my bunkhouse tonight?"

Oh fuck. Your abdomen tightened at the words he was using to hide his intended meaning. At the dirty thoughts now running rampant through your mind and completely unchecked. Pressure was building and you needed to stop it before anyone else caught sight. Looking up at the Brit you caught his smirk. That asshole, he knew full well what he was doing. Man was playing dirtier than a five dollar whore. And the worst part was you couldn’t stop the reaction he was getting out of you either.

Your mouth turned into a scowl as you muttered back to him, "Keep it up and I'll make you regret it tonight John. Quit trying to distract me." Speeding up you merged with the rest of the group, putting him at the back of your mind for the moment. You couldn't afford to be distracted by the thoughts of that beard between your legs or those eyes looking up at you. Fuck no, not right now. You had a bet to win. Then you could have the Captain for as long as you wanted, or as long as you could manage anyway.

The next building you entered, by the grace of God, was air conditioned. You and Cerberus both needed to cool down after that long ass run. Ghost didn’t bother to stick around for Soap’s little summary of this competition as he made his way up a set of stairs to a viewing platform overlooking the whole thing. He must have already known what the Scotsman had in store for you.

This time only two automatic weapons were awaiting you on the table and you gave a thought at how long it had taken Soap to set all of this up. It had to have taken a long time to get the obstacle course setup for y'all, and not to mention all the targets he had to set out for the sniper competition and all at five hundred yards. He’d certainly put a lot more thought into this than you had originally thought he was going to. The man seemed to live for competition. It also made you wonder what the hell else you were all supposed to be doing today.

The Scotsman turned to you then with a smile on his face and a cocky tilt to his head, “Just me and you this time, Cowboy.” It’d been a long time since anyone had the balls to call you that. He really was an endearing one you had to give it to him, “We clear each room till we hit the finish line. You have one pistol and one automatic weapon, two pistol magazines and two automatic magazines.” He gestured with a jerk of his chin to the other half of the table before continuing, “We have a Fennec for you since that’s what you were using when we found you but the ammo isn’t live.”

You nodded slowly as you moved towards the table, lifting the gun with your good hand to test the weight. “Alright, I’m following you so far,” you gave him a quick smile. At least you could still lift it comfortably without having to use your other arm too much. Especially after that damn obstacle course. God you were never going to get over that damn thing.

He cleared his throat to capture your attention again and your eyes found him quickly, “You hit a non-combatant you get a penalty. We both get one chance, that’s it. You can watch from up top because I’ll be going first. Get a feel for it,” Soap grabbed his pistol and M4 with you watching quietly for a few moments. The Scotsman added over his shoulder as he made his way to the starting line, “The situations will also be changing with each round. Sometimes there will be hostages, sometimes you will have potential bomb threats. Your approach to the situation will be judged just as much as your time, so keep that in mind.” He did a once over of his gear real quick and turned to look at you, making sure you understood the rules.

“Got it,” you answered him and threw him a quick thumbs up. “Break a leg Soap,” you said before looking around when a hand tapped you on the shoulder. Gaz nodded to the stairs that everyone else was heading up prompting you to follow after them. You looked down at the rooms with people milling about inside as you leaned against the railing, resting your leg while you had the chance. Hostages it seemed was the first scenario picked for the Sergeant. You looked down at Soap standing outside the door as he readied himself. The second the door flung open Price hit start on his stopwatch and the Sergreant’s time began.

The first room had three enemy combatants, and it only took three shots for Soap to count them out before he moved on to the next door with surprising rapidity. He didn’t even take a second to slow down as it too flung open, a man with a gun held to a hostage's head shouting at Soap in Arabic to back up. The Scotsman didn’t bother to attempt to negotiate though, he simply pulled the trigger and before the other man could even try to react he was being called out. Soap freed the hostage and frisked them quickly for weapons before directing them to remain out of sight and behind him.

The third room was an ambush zone, you could see it before Soap even opened the door. One wall was longer than the other and as he moved to clear the left side an enemy combatant rounded the corner on his right, grabbing the gun in his hand and forcing the barrel down to the floor. A hard kick to the stomach and a quick flip of the pistol out of its holster to double tap the man and he was continuing on though.

Damn this kid was fast. Not once had he slowed down and stopped moving yet and he was very nearly done. The next door swung open before he reached it and he put a splatter of paint on the man’s chest, shoving by him into the next room. Three hostages were tied on the ground and he worked to cut through their bindings quickly. With his back to one hostage you watched as the woman slowly turned and pulled a pistol from her waistband.

Before she even got the weapon all the way out though Soap had her arms trapped at his side underneath one of his own. His own pistol under her chin as he said, “Drop the gun.” When it clattered to the ground he released her hands and reached down for the weapon to shove it in his own waistband and out of reach. Still pointing the pistol at her he ordered her to the ground, securing the woman’s hands before directing all the hostages safely out of the training room with his own hostage at the head of the group like a body shield.

“Time!” Laswell said to your left and you watched John click the button to stop the timer on his phone. You glanced their way as he showed the phone to the woman and she gave a slow nod at the numbers. Soap was at the top of the stairs in a heartbeat with a smug look on his face, he knew he was good and he didn’t care who else knew it either. “Two minutes flat Soap, good run. No penalties either.”

The Scotsman gave a quick nod, “Nobody’s faster than me, Speck. That’s why I hold the record.” Huffs of amusement rose up and shaking heads were seen from around the group but no one had anything to say in terms of disagreement. Even if Gaz did look mildly annoyed at the arrogance on display. “You’re up next, good luck,” your eyes narrowed at him as you headed back down the stairs with Cerberus at your side.

Grabbing the gun in your left hand you tested the weight again, experimenting with the pain in your shoulder as you stretched it out. “Just like the apartment buddy, we can do this one, yeah?” You knelt beside the dog, running a hand over his head and muttering, “Time to work for real this time.” His eyes bore into yours, still panting from the heat outside and the run. “Gib laut,” he barked once but as you gave the command again several echoed throughout the indoor training area.

“Zurück,” you muttered watching him back pedal slowly towards the door, until you held up a palm to him. He froze, even the barking stopped as he watched expectantly for whatever he was supposed to be doing next. Your eyes shot up to Soap then as you asked, “Rules of engagement for the dog?” It seemed he hadn’t thought of that based on the look in his eyes. That was like half of your kit and he hadn’t even thought about it?

Finally the Scotsman said, “No biting anyone, not in this scenario anyway.” He turned to yell at someone on the other side of the training area, “Go get the bite sleeves, Wade!” When he turned back you looked back down to the dog and set your shoulder to the side of the door.

Just like any other training session, except now you had people watching and you were down an essential tool you were very used to. And why did this feel like more of an audition than a fuckin competition at this point? Oh well, make do with what you’ve got. Adapt to the situation at hand and blow them out of the water. “Fuss, Cerberus,” he moved to your side and you pushed open the first door.

The second you stepped inside the first room you spotted your first hostile. One shot and one down. A sweeping arc around the rest of the room but no one else was in there. “Voran,” you muttered and the dog ran a sweep of the room, searching as you made your way to the first door quickly. As you lined up on the door he regrouped on you and you pushed into the next room.

A splatter of paint hit the doorframe near your head as you moved into the room and you raised the rifle to splatter paint all over his glasses. He stepped back and your eyes flicked around the room catching sight of a man hiding behind a desk. You fired a shot at the last second into his chest watching the man step back into the corner. Checking the rest of the room a growl came from Cerberus, and in the next second you heard the door opening behind you into the next room. Swinging around you double tapped two shots into his chest.

Keeping your eye on the now open doorway you muttered, “Voran,” again, watching Cerberus move quickly into the next room with you right behind him. It was the ambush point, the room Soap had almost gotten shot in the first time. This time though the dog froze and you watched him sink to the ground. An explosives scenario then, lovely. You checked the first corner and then around the second as well before you looked down at Cerberus.

His eyes shot up to you and then to the last door before you whispered, “Bleib,” and left him laying down behind you. He couldn’t assist so no reason to put him further into danger right now. Don’t slow down, your time couldn’t afford for you to stop now. You pushed into the final room and very nearly took a fist to the face as you side stepped. Instead the fist smacked into your right shoulder, the limb going numb at first before pain ran through your fingertips.

“Oh fuck you!” The barrel of the Fennec slammed into his chest as you fired off three paint rounds into his chest. A foot slammed into his chest next as you kicked the guy back with a growl. Your arm was still dead but at least the room was empty now. Except for the decoy bomb in the middle of the final room staring back at you. A grimace painted your face as your arm curled into your stomach and you knelt beside it.

The timer ticked down from forty-five seconds and you glanced up to the group staring down at you. Your next decision depended on how many people would be affected if you left it. This was a role playing situation though, and you didn’t have enough information to make a decision to disarm or get the fuck out. So you asked them quickly, “Is this a heavily populated area?”

Surprisingly it was John who answered your question rather than Laswell or Soap, “Affirmative. It’s a school and the children haven’t been evacuated yet.” You nodded slowly as you continued to inspect the bomb, pulling a knife out of your pocket as your eyes wandered over what you could see. Another spasm of pain jolted down your shoulder as you shifted but you could ignore it, for a few more moments anyway. You traced the wires carefully from what would have been the actual bomb to the timer. Disarm the timer first and worry about the possibility of a remote detonation second.

Unless the timer has a backup detonator, fuckin hell. Thirty seconds, was that even enough time? Three wires, all of them going into the same port on the timer, so the likelihood of a secondary detonator on the bomb itself was unlikely. Safe to remove the timer from the equation then, hopefully. It’s been too long since you were in EOD training. Which wire to cut, you ran your finger up the length of each wire again, inspecting it for a few more moments before you finally shook your head, you could be wrong but you only made a real mistake once right? The muttered, “Fuck it,” fell out of your mouth before you severed the wire.

The timer went dead and you inspected the rest of the bomb. Remote detonation was still possible. Removing the face of the timer with the knife you stared down at it carefully. The wires connected only to the timer then. A smile lit up your face as you stood back up, still hugging your arm to your stomach, feeling the pins and needles in your fingers as the sensation came back. “Let’s go Cerb, fuss,” he was at your side in a second as you swept your way out of the rooms.

Crossing over the last doorway you heard a loud, “Time!” You laid the gun on the table and reached for your shoulder with a quiet grunt. The pain was finally working its way into the foreground of your thoughts, no longer content with being in the background. Slowly you made your way up the stairs, joining the rest of the group as you hid the grimace once more. “Two minutes and fifteen seconds but that was great situational awareness, Speck.” The woman paused as she seemed to think, considering the two runs carefully before she finally said, “Soap was faster though. I’m gonna have to give this round to him.”

You sighed and shook your head as the Scotsman pumped his fist, “Aye, ye hear that lads. Soap has done it again.” There were groans and mutters to tell him to shut up, but you stayed quiet. It drew the azure hues to you with a furrowed brow before the man seemed to realize you were still holding your shoulder, “We should take a break though. Pick it up tomorrow?” Thank God he’d suggested it because there was no way you were going to do so.

“Hell yeah,” you mumbled and leaned back against the railing for a moment. Soap stepped towards you, his brows raising and you shook your head, “Nah man I’m good. Just need a break. Besides it’s getting late, we’ve been at it all afternoon.” You let your hand fall away from the pulsing limb, heading back down the stairs. A shower and some food sounded heavenly right now.

The rest of the group were quick to follow out of the indoor training area. Everyone seemed to be done with the competition for the day, including Soap who called after you, “Come see me later for some fresh bandages. Ye need to keep changing them!” You gave him a thumbs up as you turned to find Laswell. You still had the whole clothes issue, to sort out before you were walking naked around this base.

The woman raised her brow at you questioningly before you spoke, “Hey Laswell right?” She gave you a quick nod before you continued, “Soap and Price said you could handle my clothes situation? And I figured I should ask you about getting Cerberus some more dog food? He’s nearly out and I doubt yall are gonna let me leave base to go get it myself.” She smiled at that but you didn’t know if that was her agreeing with the statement or not.

Finally she answered, “The clothes should be in your bunkhouse already. Fatigues and civilian clothes. I’ll get someone to handle the food this time, but Wade handles all the supplies for Bravo team so you’ll need to talk to him next time you need something.” You gave a quick nod as she departed with another smile, heading in the direction of the mess hall.

The rest of the squad seemed to have cleared out as well, all except for John who still had his hands shoved in his pockets and a smile on his face. And his eyes, God he had bluest damn eyes, they were glued to you. “You gotta stop doin that, John,” his head tilted questioningly as he stepped towards you. “The watching, the smiling, someone is gonna notice. Your team aren’t exactly idiots. They can be stupid, but they aren’t idiots.” He shrugged as he took another step closer, his eyes traveling down the length of your body.

The guys you’d been shooting at inside the training op filed out of the building behind you, and for the most part he ignored them. You did as well, they weren’t your problem right now. Until the door shut again and he glanced back to watch the group disappear around the building. As the last one rounded the corner his eyes snapped back to you and his fingers shot to your shirt, pulling you forward to press a hungry kiss to your mouth. It was shocking but certainly not unwanted, not even in a place so open as this.

He tasted better than any meal you’d ever had, the hand in your shirt not nearly enough contact to satisfy the growing need in your stomach. Just as fast as his mouth had covered yours, the hungry, devouring heat pulled away again. You watched his tongue reach out to wet his lips, that smirk finding his mouth again as he tasted you on his mouth. “What was that for?” You looked nearly taken aback by the suddenness of the kiss, finding yourself already aching for more.

His voice was dangerously quiet and you recognized the desire in his voice the second he spoke, “You’ve been walking around with my name on your arse all day, Love. I’ve barely been keeping myself at bay,” he started by you, a hand sliding down beside him to grab at the ass he had mentioned. His fingers were squeezing at your flesh with a promise for more. Damn. You hummed at that as you turned to follow him with your eyes and he kept walking. He glanced over his shoulder for only a moment before jerking his head in a quiet signal for you to follow him.

A smile spread over your mouth as you followed against the wiser wishes of your brain which knew you needed a break. The wrong head was thinking now and to be honest, if it kept having great ideas like this you might just let it. You dropped Cerberus off at your bunkhouse, filling his food and water bowl before you left. Before you even knocked on the door to John’s bunkhouse the door swung open and his fingers latched into your shirt again and pulled you inside before he slammed the door shut.

His mouth found yours again and his tongue teased at your lips, seeking to rediscover the passages he’d mapped out eight months ago. Your back found the door as he caged you in with his body, his form seeming to block out the only light source in the bunkhouse. You heard the lock turn behind you before his hand ran across your lower back, seeking something and you were pretty sure you knew what it was.

Oh yeah you definitely knew what it was. Slowly his fingers slipped lower and he dipped below the waistband of the pants to get a handful of your ass, kneading at the soft flesh. He hummed into your mouth, and you felt his mouth turn up with a satisfied smile. He’d finally found what he was searching for, “Love this arse.” His other hand reached around to join the other as he pulled your hips into his. Grinding his hard erection into your own hardening length through the thick fabric of both of your pants.

A moan fell out of your mouth at the friction, pressure building quickly below your belt and you were wanting more, needing more. His tongue dipped into your mouth, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he finally tasted your mouth. The man was near feral after keeping his hands to himself for so long, and God so were you. Yesterday in the showers hadn’t been nearly enough for either of you.

His lips pulled away from yours and he rolled your hips forward against his own again. Both of you savored the feel, wanting more but not willing to break apart just yet to get to one another. His nose pressed into your cheek a couple times until you finally looked up, eyes locking on his. “I want to see this arse bouncing on my cock, Love. Now.” Your head tipped back into the door as his mouth found your neck, sucking and kissing at the exposed skin greedily.

God he was intoxicating. You would have never let anyone else talk to you like he does, but everything he said, and it didn’t matter the situation or even what he was saying, it always went straight to your cock. And good Lord you wanted him inside you just as bad as he wanted to be there.

A hand reached up, leaving your skin to hook a finger into the neckline of your shirt. It drug down your heated flesh, exposing it to him slowly. And then his lips were sucking hard at the skin of your collarbone, teeth capturing it with a nip hard enough you knew he was going to leave a mark but you didn’t care as he drew out another low moan from you.

It didn’t occur to you that you were doing it until your hand was pushing him back. Gaining a moment of reprieve to get control of your thoughts and your body. That dark look was still in his eyes but he stayed put, watching you with a smug smile until you were turning the tables on him. There was no sense in trying to act like you didn’t want this just as bad, he was all you thought about most of the time. Your mouth was on his again in a moment, devouring every inch of him you could get ahold of. Tugging at his shirt to pull it out of the clean tuck he always walked around with. Always so meticulously dressed and groomed, and damn if you didn’t want to be his undoing.

His smile against your mouth drove you insane as he mirrored every movement you made. Pulling at your shirt with his rough fingers, dragging it up over the planes of your stomach until you were forced to break away. Neither of your shirts lasted another heartbeat as you flung yours to the floor with his following right behind it. Then without missing a step you were attached at the lips again, backing him up slowly to his bed in the corner of the room. Waiting until his knees buckled and he sat back on the bed, letting him watch the sway of your hips as you took a seat on his lap, straddling him as he tried his best to muffle a groan.

Strong hands grabbed at your waist, grinding the swell of your ass down onto his rock hard length barely contained in his pants. The noises he was making were driving you up the walls. He pulled away from your mouth again, taking a moment to catch his breath as his hips rocked up into yours, “I’ve been wanting you all day." His lips pressed into the skin just below your jaw, his beard scratching an itch you didn't even know you had. "I couldn’t even run that course cause you made me so hard when I saw you wearing my name on you like a tattoo. Bloody hell, Love, your arse looks so good in these,” his fingers ran over the bare skin of your waist, hovering just above the waistband of the pants.

Slowly his mouth kissed a trail down your neck and over your collarbone until he found what he was looking for. Teeth nipped at the sensitive bud before he sucked your nipple into his mouth. A gasp left you at the sensation, your chest pressing up to seek more of his mouth even as your hips ground down onto him. Listening with a satisfied smile as he moaned out against your flesh. Your hands were in his hair before you could even think about it, your own head tipping back to enjoy the attention he was paying you. God you just wanted him to fuck you already. You needed to cum and this had already gone on long enough. "God John your mouth is fuckin perfect," you felt his smile against your skin and his hum vibrated your chest before he pulled away, kissing his way to the other side.

His mouth went to work again, the sensations lighting your mind up with pleasure and building the pressure below your belt even more. It was too much, the ache was starting now and God you needed him. Needed something touching your length or at least that deep place inside you. Your hands fell from his head and you looked down, finding his blue eyes already watching you curiously. "Feels so good, but I need you. Want you to fuck me already," his eyes closed at the request. Mouth pulling away as he rolled your ass down against his erection again, feeling him twitch at the words even through the fabric.

Your fingers found his pants, working at the buttons quickly as he did the same for you. It wasn't until a loud knock came at the door that you saw his eyes dart up and his look darken with something akin to malice rather than the lust that had been there moments before. Watcher's voice pierced through the door at the worst moment it could have, "Captain! Laswell sent me are ye there?" His lip curled at the words even as the doorknob rattled, the Scotsman was trying to open it only to find that the deadbolt in fact was locked. "Captain? Are ye asleep in there or something? Dinnae make me walk to go get yer bunk key. Please Captain, just answer the door," the young man sounded near desperate.

Nearly as desperate as you sounded with your face burying in the crook of John’s neck to muffle your quiet groans as your hips rolled across his lap. Searching for something to ease the ache as his disruption did nothing to put a cork in your overflowing desire. Another knock as John sighed into your bare shoulder, pressing a light kiss to the skin as he rolled to lay you down on the bed. "I'm coming, hold on," he called back, pressing a kiss to your mouth and lowering his voice to mumble against your mouth, "Won't be long, Love. I'm sorry," he stood back up and you watched as he bent to grab his shirt and pull it back on. His fingers worked quickly to rebutton his pants even after you'd diligently worked to undo them.

God you were wearing too much, your skin felt feverish now even after he'd already moved away from you. Sitting up you worked quickly at the laces of your boots, glancing up only for a moment when John opened his door and the orange light of the setting sun outside filtered in. One hand on the door and his other on the doorframe you were suddenly very thankful that it opened in on the other side so you didn't have to worry about Watcher getting an eyeful of you currently stripping in his Captain's bunk. With your boots finally off you laid back on the bed again. Finishing undoing the rest of the buttons and fishing into your underwear with a quiet sigh of relief as your hand finally found the aching length as you worked slowly.

Your eyes flicked back to John, catching sight of his furrowed brow and tense jaw as he shook his head, "Now? Seriously?" A sound like a yes came from the man outside whose voice was considerably lowered now that he wasn't having to yell to get John's attention. "Fuckin hell Watcher, fine whatever. Tell her I'll be there in a minute," the door slammed shut and the deadbolt clicked again. Your eyes shut tight as you twisted your wrist, another sigh falling out of you at the feeling, and you rocked up into your own hand chasing your high. "Fuck you're a perfect sight, Love," your head tilted on the pillow, eyes opening lazily to find him as your abdomen flexed on a particularly pleasurable stroke.

The burning desire in his eyes was back now even as it was clouded with annoyance that you desperately wished wasn't there. "Need you, John, please," his hand reached down, cupping himself through the thick fabric in an attempt to soothe his own aching member. He took a step towards you, and a pulse of heat ran down to throb at the base of your cock. His hand was what you wanted, not your own. You could have your own any time, but right now? Right now you could have his and it was all your mind could think, chanting for him to touch you.

A sound edging on pain clawed up his throat as he tried desperately to adjust himself again. "I've gotta go for a few minutes," your hand stalled for a second before starting back up again. "Stay here, I'll be back." You nodded quickly as your hips left the bed, still thrusting into your own hand, "Fuckin hell I swear I'll be back. Just stay here, yeah?" He knelt beside the bed for a second, leaning over to press another kiss to your mouth even as you moaned. "Here," he fished into a bag and pulled out a bottle as he handed it to you. "You better not finish without me, you understand?" You forced yourself to nod to him again, eyes shutting for a second as you fought back your climax with a groan. When your eyes opened again he was giving you that smug little smirk before he backed up to the door. He left quietly after that, though you heard the lock click into place as he did. At least no one was gonna walk in on you…hopefully.

How were you supposed to keep yourself from finishing though? Did he just want you to edge yourself into overstimulation? Knowing him he probably did. "Please don't be gone for too long," you muttered, glancing down at the bottle he'd given you. Lube, that man was a frickin boy scout if there ever was one. He always came prepared no matter the situation. Popping the top you poured some over your length, smearing it up and down your shaft as you bucked into your now slickened hand again. The image of blue eyes danced in your head, as well as the body you knew he sported beneath his clothes.

Teeth drug across your bottom lip at the thought, a hum rumbling up your throat. That man was too sexy for his own damn good, and he had you wrapped around his finger. God you were playing right into his damn games. Laying here in his fuckin bed jerking yourself off right to the edge before you were pulling your hand away with shaky breaths. Not even able to control your head as it jerked and your eyes shut tight as you staved off your orgasm. "Mm fuck, please," you begged but he wasn't there to hear your pleas, wasn't there to see the need on your face as your climax danced out of reach again and you hungrily began the chase it once more.

------(John POV)------

Christ he was aching. He couldn't get his thoughts off the man he'd left in his bunk. The way every muscle he could see had tensed with need, your sweet little mouth begging to be fucked. Another pang of arousal shot down below the belt and he had to stop the groan in his throat. Nails digging into his palm as he was nearly running across the base at this point.

Watcher had said she was waiting for him in the office which thankfully meant no OP, so he shouldn't be away for too long. He threw the door open, eyes staring hard at her for a moment before she looked up and he shut the door behind him. If looks could kill his friend would have been dead before he'd even opened the door, "What's so urgent Kate?" His arms crossed over his chest, protecting himself from the hard gaze she was currently leveling right back at him.

Holding up a file she laid it on the other side of the desk. "The rest of his personnel file came in from the contractor he was working for. Do you want to read it all yourself or do you want the short version?" So that's what was so urgent? He had told her he wanted to know the second it came in. To be fair though that was before he'd pinned Speck to the wall in the showers and fucked his frustrations out yesterday.

John waved off the file she was trying to hand him with a shake of his head, "I'll read all of it tomorrow, I have something to do. Just give me the short version right now." She nodded and sat the file down in front of her. Leaning back in her chair as she thought quietly to herself.

It took her a moment before she finally figured out where to start and then she shrugged, "He was a SEAL. A good one according to his AARs. In the Navy for twenty years right out of high school. He was Bravo One for a long time and he ran a good team, one of the best. Remember about a couple years ago though, that team that got taken out in Afghanistan?" She waited for him as he thought, finally nodding when it sparked a hint of familiarity in him, "That was his team. He was the only one that got out. Lost his whole team, all eight of them, including his dog at the time. The Navy tried to railroad him. Tried to pin everything on him, all the fault. He was investigated, but the case was dismissed after it went to trial. They never had anything on him, they just wanted to make a show of it I think." Laswell paused to look up at him, watching his now guarded expression. "He retired from the Navy after that, got divorced, and he's been working for the same contracting company since. Nothing notable since that happened though, not until now anyway."

The man nodded slowly as he took the information in, tapping his finger against his bicep as he thought. "And what did they say about it? About why they tried to have him killed?" His head tilted at the question while he watched her.

She merely shook her head and offered him another shrug, "They said it wasn't them. That his handler has been off the books for nearly four months. And with Speck in deep cover the only one who knew how to contact him was his handler for safety purposes. They have no idea where the handler is or why they've been doing all of this. My guess is they probably bought them off." The Captain let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, still trying to sort through everything she'd already said. "I think he'd be a good investment though, John. I've read his AARs, he's good, and you've seen him in the field and in training. He knows what he's doing."

He shook his head, "Don't make any moves yet. Let me think about it. Now if that's all you needed I've got something to do," she gave him a slow shake of her head in response. He very nearly growled in frustration but managed to ask with a mostly neutral tone, "What else?" His brows raised when she slid the picture of the man they'd taken into custody across the desk to him.

Laswell watched as he picked it up, nodding slowly down at it before finding her eyes again, "I know who he is, but he is refusing to talk. Won't speak a word of English to me. We brought in a translator but that apparently isn't good enough for him, he wants the guy with the dog. He wants to talk to Speck." John's eyes found the far wall as his jaw tensed. What could the man possibly want with you? "Do you know where he went after Soap's little competition?" The brunette nodded his head slowly in affirmation and she said, "Great, I'll send someone to get him."

Blue eyes widened and he shook his head, "No, Kate. I'll go get him. I need to talk to him anyway," her eyes narrowed, inspecting him closely now with his untucked shirt and his pants riding just a bit too low on his hips. She was about to say something, make some kind of guess as to why his shirt was so wrinkled and covered in dirt even though he hadn't crawled through the obstacle course today. Fuck he'd picked up Speck’s shirt again, he had to stop doing that. "I'll be back, Kate," he huffed and was out the door in a moment. He needed to hurry and get back to you or he was gonna lose his mind.

------(Speck POV)-------

Moans fell out of your mouth as you fought back your climax for what had to be the hundredth time now. "Fuck John, hurry up," you groaned fingers digging into the sheets as your heart raced. Forcing your hand away from your throbbing cock, he'd been clear about you not finishing while he wasn't there and you had every intention of listening to him. What you wouldn't give to hear him right now with an answering groan though. To have his fingers caressing your skin, the rough pads of his fingertips catching along every scar. Just the thought was enough to have you fighting back your orgasm again as your lips fell open in a silent scream. "Please, fuck, need to cum. God John please," you were begging to no one though. He wasn't there to hear you, to release you from the promise you'd given him.

Not until the lock clicked and the door swung open. His eyes found you, barely keeping it together on the bed as relief flooded you at the sight. The throb in your cock was aching to be soothed. You needed to let go. He needed to get the fuck over here and he needed to do it now. The door shut behind him and he locked it again. You watched his hand grab at himself through the fabric again, working to soothe his own aches, watching your now naked body with a hungry look as you stroked yourself with a slow rhythm. "Please, I need you John," the quiet whine left your mouth and you could see him melting as you begged for him.

He was at the bed in a second, leaning over you still fully clothed as his mouth found yours. His hand ran down the tense muscles of your abdomen as he reached down to stroke you just once and you couldn't stop it this time. Sucking in a gasp of air your whole body tensed with the effort, back arching off the bed and heels pressing into the mattress as you bucked up into his hand mindlessly. The world around you ceased to exist even as your arms wrapped around his neck and you pulled him closer. You were fucking yourself into his hand with reckless abandon, the overwhelming pressure finally being released after you'd fought it back for what had felt like forever.

When you came back to yourself you realized you had buried your face into the crook of his neck at some point. Your moans were muffled only by the skin of his throat and his own quiet coos of encouragement while he worked you. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes and you hadn't even realized you were crying, relief flooding through you in a crashing wave after finally feeling your release. He was still stroking your cock slowly until you whimpered quietly into his skin and he pulled his hand away, letting you relax back into the mattress. The calluses ran up the length of your side and caught across your sensitive, burning skin to stoke the fire in your limbs without even meaning to.

Your own voice sounded foreign to your ears as you muttered a quiet, "Shit I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I tried not to, I really did," his fingers squeezed at your ribs as he pulled your body up against his despite the mess you'd made all over your stomach. A soft shh came from his mouth as his head shook, fingers running soothingly over your back. You felt him shift you so you were sitting on his lap once again. It was as if he'd never been gone to begin with. He ran his hands up and down your back slowly, his nails dragging over your skin and making you shift on his lap turning his quiet shushing into a low hum of satisfaction.

Pulling you out of where you'd buried your face he looked up at your flushed features with a smug smile. God that fucking smile, it did things to you that were truly unholy. "Feel better now, Love?" You shut your eyes and let your forehead fall forward against his, shaking your head slowly in answer. Sure you'd reached your peak, but it hadn't been how you wanted to reach it, with him buried inside you driving every thought from your mind and leaving only room to think about how good he felt. "No?" Your head shook again in another quiet answer as his nose bumped against yours, his words whispering across your cheek. "Good," he muttered as his mouth finally found yours again, his mustache tickling your upper lip and drawing out a smile against his mouth.

You couldn't stop yourself from grinding down against his still hardened length, his moan like music to your ears. He was just barely muffled by your own hungry and searching mouth. "You're sorry right?" He whispered against your mouth and you gave an affirmative hum as your mouth kissed a trail across his jaw and down to his neck. You could taste the sweat on his skin, had he run back here? Damn he was just as horny for you as you were for him. "Make it up to me then, Love," good Lord he was a vicious man. But how could you deny him when he asked in that needy voice.

Your hands pulled at his shirt quickly, bunching it up in your hands as you lifted it over his stomach and chest. Your mouth left his neck for barely a second as you helped him strip free of the confining fabric and muttered, "Your skin tastes like sweat. Did you run back here?" He nodded as your mouth worked over his collarbone, tongue flicking out to taste the salt on his skin again. "Did anyone see you, John?" Your fingers worked slowly at the buttons of his pants even as he grinded your hips down on his lap again.

A low hum vibrated his chest before he growled out, "I don't fucking care if anyone saw me. Couldn't wait to be inside you, Love," his chin tilted down to rest on the back of your head as your mouth pressed into the dip between his pecs. Kissing at the patches of dark brunette hair along his chest. God his dick wasn't the only thing that was huge, huh? Each pectoral felt like a pillow underneath your lips as you nipped and sucked at the soft flesh, but when his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass you felt the muscles harden beneath your unwavering attention.

Finally you finished your slow progress at opening his pants, your fingers dipping inside to palm him through his underwear. His forehead fell further down to rest against your shoulder, eyes traveling down your naked front to watch your hand as you groped him through the fabric. Lighting every one of his nerve endings on fire with your relentless teasing. He huffed out in a quiet threat, "If you don't hurry up I'm gonna do this myself, Love." His beard scratched against your cheek as you pressed your face against his. You earned a gasp as you delved into his underwear finally. Lips pressed against your shoulder, his breath playing across your bare skin as he fought to control the noises escaping him.

"Oh fu-" his next gasp cut off mid sentence, teeth sinking into the muscle of your shoulder as he fought to muffle his moans. A pained growl left you but you didn't stop pumping his member, reveling in his quiet huffs for air. Your shoulder was on fire even when let go, whispering a quiet, "S-Sorry. Need you. Right now I n-need you."

Nodding you squeezed the base of his cock, driving back the orgasm you knew was building, edging him just like you'd edged yourself until he’d come back. He sighed against your skin before you muttered, "Lay back." His head lifted, hands coming up to cup your face as he watched you curiously for a moment. You leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before tilting your mouth to whisper against his ear, "Please lay back.” A quick nod followed your request and he laid back on the bed, that burning gaze staring up at you as he propped his head up with one arm. His other hand rested on your thigh, his thumb stroking your thigh in slow, little circles.

Interest sparked in his eyes as you slid back along his thighs, pulling at the waistband of his pants until you couldn't pull them down anymore. Starting to slide off his lap completely he stopped you with a strong grip on your hip, shaking his head slowly. Without even needing to ask his hips lifted off the bed, and you couldn't help but admire the way his muscles tensed below his skin. You were lost to the sight until he cleared his throat beneath you and you hurriedly pulled the pants and underwear down to free his cock.

Reaching across the bed towards the pillow you grabbed the bottle of lube he'd given you earlier. Squeezing some out on his length as he hissed at the cold. And then your hand was around him again, warming the slick liquid and spreading it over his length. His lips parted, his breath quickening as your hand worked him. The man couldn't stop his needy moan. Neither could you when your own length came into contact with his, and you could feel the throb of his pulse against your own skin. Your hand wrapped around the both of you, pumping a few times before you asked, "Still want to watch my ass bouncing on your cock?"

The noise he made was near enough to send you over the edge again as his fingers tightened around your hip, "Fuck yes. Want you to ride me till you're screaming my name," your wrist twisted at the tip, thumb sliding over the head of his cock. His head tipped back and his eyes shut tight as he fought to keep himself still underneath you. Groaning out his impatience when your hand released him again.

You turned around in his lap, sliding backward along his length as his leaking erection glided between your cheeks. His hand slid up along your back before you glanced over your shoulder at his face. Those blue eyes were captivating, especially when he glanced up at you with his teeth dragging over his bottom lip humming quietly in satisfaction to himself. Lifting up you saw his other hand reach down, his cock slapping against your ass until he pressed himself at your entrance. He obviously felt how slick your hole was because in the next second he asked, "Bloody hell, did you prep yourself while I was gone too?" A slow nod had him slamming inside you, too pent up to hold himself back any longer. "Oh my- Feel so fucking good, Love."

Your muscles tightened and spasmed around him, a strangled gasp in your throat at the sudden fullness. God you hadn't expected that. He burned your walls as he tried to move but your hands on his hips stopped him. Short, quick breaths were all you could manage for a second as his hands rocked your hips forward and back slowly, needing to feel some kind of friction. Why did he always feel so big? He'd just been inside you yesterday too, he shouldn't feel like there was this much of him. Should he?

Moving your hands from his hips to his thighs your chin fell forward, finally catching your breath and loosening around him. You lifted off him slowly about halfway before the hands at your waist were pulling you back down with a vicious slam. He pressed against every wall, every corner of you driving you near madness at the sensation. “‘M feel so big Price,” you moaned loudly, lifting off again and bouncing back down.

You set a steady rhythm, letting his hands wander over the expanse of your skin. The pad of his index finger ran across the bullet scar at your hip as you rode him. The memory of when you’d told him the story of that one flashing in your mind. He’d asked so many questions that night, and not all that you’d been willing to answer. “Call me that again,” he breathed out and you smiled as you slammed back down, rolling your hips back and forth. Grinding on him and running his length over the bundle of nerves that had you gasping out in pleasure again.

You glanced over your shoulder again at him, head tilting in question with a smirk on your mouth, “What? Big?” He groaned and you watched his eyes flick up from where he’d been watching himself disappearing inside of you. His gaze turned into a glare letting you know that was not what he had meant. “Price then? The name I walked around with on my ass all day? That name?” His eyes shut and his head fell back, hips thrusting up off the mattress reaching somehow impossibly deeper inside of you.

Resuming your steady rhythm your teeth grazed over your bottom lip. He liked being talked to, and that worked both when he was in control and even when he wasn’t it seemed. “Give me another pair and I’ll wear your name all week,” his fingers squeezed hard at your flesh, spreading your cheeks with his hands. You caught sight of him nodding along to your words where he was laying. “I don’t think I could wear it on missions though. You seem a bit distracted by it. Can’t have your thoughts back here in the bunkhouse when you’re supposed to be keeping me alive.”

It didn’t take long for the image to dance behind his eyelids of you running a real mission with them, his name still stitched into the pocket on your pants. He sat up as he jerked your hips flush with his. His mouth right beside your ear when he growled, “I don’t need you to wear my name. I’ll make sure everyone knows this arse is mine one way or another.” His beard scratched against your shoulder as he flipped you over, bending you over the edge of the bed and pressing your face down into the mattress. One hand still holding your hips as the other tangled into your hair.

Oh, he was gonna be the death of you. There was no doubt that his face would be the last you saw because you were certain you could never let him out of your sight again. He impaled you relentlessly, bruising your insides with the force. The pressure that had been building at the base of your cock was becoming unbearable. You needed to find your release and you needed to find it now.

The same thought seemed to be crossing his mind as well, as the hand holding your hip slid around to your front. He stroked your length in time with his thrusts, angling his hips down to hit the place that had your abdomen tightening at the shock of pleasure. “You close?” You nodded vigorously into the mattress, turning your head to look up at him as best you could with his hand still tangled into your hair. “Gonna cum for me Love? Let me finish inside you again?” Another quick nod but the look he gave you made it clear he wasn’t satisfied by a mere nod this time around.

“Please fill me up, Price,” the words slipped out of your mouth before you could even really think about them. “I wanna be leaking with you when I leave here,” he smiled and it didn’t take but a few more thrusts before you felt him spilling inside you with a moan. His body fell over your back as he kept rocking into you, drawing out the shocks of his own orgasm as he pushed you ever closer to your own. His hand was still tight around your own erection as he stroked your length. A twist of his wrist at the head of your cock though and you were spilling across his fist and sheets.

The second orgasm was just as strong as the first, your toes curling and back arching underneath the heavy weight on top of you. Both of your chests were heaving with effort as he slowly pulled out. You could feel his seed dripping out of you, already leaking down the back of your thighs with how much he’d spilled. He pushed himself up with one hand, the other landing a firm smack on your cheek causing you to flinch before you smiled. “Love, this arse is perfect,” you glanced up catching him in the act of watching the muscle jiggle after he’d slapped it with a smug smile on his face.

Climbing up onto the bed you laid yourself out, relaxing across the sheets as you watched him pulling his pants back up and fastening them with deft fingers. You watched him lean down to grab the two shirts on the ground, looking between the two before he finally pulled one over his head. Then he was grabbing your clothes off the floor, folding them quickly to lay them on the bedside table. Looking down at you, still naked on his bed, his head tilted and while his mouth no longer had that smile you could see it in the corners of his eyes as they crinkled, “Feel better now?”

A yawn escaped you before you managed to nod, “I feel great now. Can’t say I’ll feel the same in the morning but for right now yeah I feel good.” He smirked and sat beside you, his hand running along the expanse of your shoulders. His fingers massaged into the muscles, running over the place he’d bitten you earlier. Soothing the sting as he leaned over to press his lips to the spot with a smile. Then both his hands were working at the aches from the past few days, his strong hands digging in with barely any effort on his part.

You let out a groan at the tension being released and a small smile turned up the corners of your mouth. “Good to hear, Speck,” he seemed to hesitate then. You caught the look in his eye but you failed to find the reasoning behind it. Not until he cleared his throat and finally said, “I need you to get dressed though. Laswell needs your help. Well I need your help.” Your eyes closed, a sigh nearly escaping you. Should have known better than to get comfortable, right?

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