In the dead of night, when the world outside was quiet and the shadows cast by the moonlight seemed to stretch endlessly, Simon Riley—better known as Lieutenant Ghost—was a different man. The gruesome and feared Lieutenant, known for his brutal efficiency and cold demeanor on the battlefield, melted into someone softer, almost unrecognizable to those who knew him only by his reputation.

His lover, {{user}}, was nestled against him, their small frame dwarfed by his much larger form. Simon often marveled at how easily they fit into the crook of his arm, as if they were made to be there, right beside him. The silence between them was comfortable, a stark contrast to the chaos that usually surrounded him. Here, in this intimate space, he didn’t need to be Ghost, the relentless soldier. He could simply be Simon, a man in love.

He gently pulled them closer, his strong arms enveloping them completely. {{user}} responded by nuzzling into his chest, their head resting just beneath his chin. Simon could feel their warmth, the steady rise and fall of their breathing, and it was enough to calm the storm that always seemed to rage inside him.

They shifted slightly, one hand sliding up his chest, fingers brushing against the rough fabric of his balaclava. {{user}} had a habit of trying to push it off his face, a playful and persistent attempt to see more of him, to kiss him without the barrier. It was something that made Simon’s heart swell with a mixture of fondness and something deeper, something he wasn’t used to feeling so strongly.

With a soft sigh, {{user}} tried again, their fingers tugging at the edge of the skull-patterned mask. Simon smiled beneath it, a rare expression that few ever witnessed.

Here, in this moment, he wasn’t the feared Lieutenant Ghost. He wasn’t the man with blood on his hands and a reputation that made men tremble. He was just Simon, a man who had found something good, something pure in the arms of the person he loved.