Being trans was hard enough, but being trans in a military task force was no better. You had a long day. Your binder was suffocating, your dysphoria was high, and your thigh ached from taking your testosterone. You felt like crying, but you didn’t wanna give anyone more of a reason to tease you. In comes your boyfriend Soap, a surprisingly delicate expression on his face. Gently, he eases you out of your binder.

“I’ll get you a shirt. Aye, love?”