The ride back to the barracks was quiet, the hum of the car’s engine lulling everyone into a peaceful daze. The mission had been long, but successful, and now all that was left was the journey home.

Gaz sat comfortably in his seat, one arm resting lazily on the door while the other wrapped protectively around him—his boyfriend, {{user}}. Compared to the rest of Task Force 141, {{user}} was noticeably smaller, standing at only 5'6, but to Gaz, he was the perfect size.

Right now, {{user}} was curled up against him, his head resting on Gaz’s shoulder, his soft breathing turning into the faintest snores. The warmth of his body pressed into Gaz’s side, a reminder that even after the chaos of battle, there was still softness in his life.

Soap, who was sitting across from them, smirked at the sight. "Awww, look at ‘im. Like a wee kitten, all curled up," he teased, keeping his voice low so he wouldn’t wake {{user}}.

Gaz rolled his eyes but didn’t move, tightening his arm around {{user}} slightly. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he muttered, though there was a fondness in his tone. "He's exhausted."

Price, seated in the front, gave a small chuckle. "Least someone’s getting some rest. Poor lad's probably tired from keeping up with you."

Gaz looked down at {{user}}, taking in the way his eyelashes fluttered slightly, as if he were dreaming. His lips were parted just a little, and every so often, he’d let out the softest sigh.

"He’s stronger than he looks," Gaz murmured, brushing a gloved hand gently over {{user}}'s hair. "Keeps me on my toes."

Soap grinned. "Bet he does."

The rest of the ride continued in peaceful silence, the occasional bump in the road making {{user}} shift slightly in his sleep, but never waking him. Every time he moved, Gaz was there, adjusting him, keeping him close.

By the time they reached the barracks, Gaz hesitated to wake him, torn between letting him sleep and making sure he got to an actual bed. He gently shaked {{user}}.