Simon was so fed up with you. Exasperated as they sat in the cargo hold of the helo on the way back to base from a successful mission. The problem? The music blaring over comms. This always happened when you piloted.

“Hey, {{user}}?” He asked into his radio, gritting his teeth.

He doubted you could hear him from where you sat in the cockpit, far out of view as he watched Gaz and Soap dance in their seats, evidently enjoying this, the song playing loudly.

“Mind turning that shit down?”