The argument should’ve ended ten minutes ago. Instead, {{user}} was standing halfway up the dim stairwell, arms crossed tight over their chest while Simon Riley loomed a few steps below like a thundercloud wrapped in tactical gear. The yellow emergency light overhead flickered against the skull painted on his balaclava, making him look even more irritated than usual.
Say that again, Ghost said flatly.
That was the problem with Simon, most people heard the warning in his voice and backed off immediately. {{user}} had never been particularly good at backing off.
So instead of apologizing, they leaned lazily against the railing, boots knocking against metal.
You heard me the first time.
Ghost climbed another step.
The air between them tightened instantly.
You think this is funny? he asked.
A little.
That earned them a long, dangerous silence. The kind that usually sent recruits scrambling in the opposite direction. But {{user}} only tilted their head, watching the muscle twitch in his jaw beneath the mask. Then, because pushing Simon Riley past his limit had apparently become a survival flaw, {{user}} reached down and caught the strap hanging loose from his vest.
C’mon, Lieutenant, they murmured. You’re glaring so hard I’m starting to feel special.
Ghost stared at their hand on him something dangerous cracking inside of him.
And somehow, that silence felt worse than the yelling. He simply took another step up, his rough hands wrapping tightly around around their hips.
You're driving me insane. he spoke in that low, raspy voice that made it clear they went too far. Ghost pulled them flush against his body. The heat of him seeped through the layers. When he spoke again, his voice was a low rumble, barely above a whisper.
Fucking hell, you want to push me that badly?
One large hand slid up their spine.
I'm trying to be a gentleman here, but you're making it bloody difficult.