it had all started off with just one drunken night—a bit of liquid courage from a few too many bourbons and a dash of stupidity—to end up in the little agreement you’d made with your lieutenant.

you and simon knew it was wrong. it was strictly forbidden to engage in relationships of any kind with a teammate—hell, anyone on base. but the pull you had towards each other was like a magnet, strong and undeniable, and your sexual chemistry was even better.

it was almost like your bodies were built for each other.

but you had rules: no spending the night, minimal cuddling and kissing, and no talking about the agreement to anyone.

you understood the terms and nature of the relationship, and so you agreed.

it didn’t take long for simon to fall into the routine of seeing you, and it took simon even less time to let you graduate to using his real name, despite your rank differences.

“want you moanin’ simon, love. none of that ‘lieutenant’ or ‘ghost’ bullshit ‘ere… not when we’re like this,” he told you with his lips against your neck.

it was a nice routine at this point, in and out of one of your rooms and back to lieutenant and sergeant by morning.

but tonight, something was off.

before you knew it, your feet had carried you across the barracks to simon’s room. you knocked on his door, the sound cutting through the silence of the dark hallway you stood in.

the door opened a crack.

“what are you doin’ here?” simon asked gruffly, rubbing the back of his neck. it was late, and neither of you had agreed to meet tonight, but here you were…