The team had earned this. The last mission had been a huge success. It clean, efficient, and there were no major injuries or casualties. High spirits brought everyone to a bar just down the street from base.

You sat in a corner booth, squeezed between Soap on one side and Ghost on the other, sipping your drink while enjoying the relaxed atmosphere. Across the table, Gaz and Price were locked in their usual banter.

Price finished his second drink, downing it like it was water. “Alright, Gaz, you’re going down,” he declared, dragging Gaz to a pool table. They started bickering over rules before they even took their shots, typical of the both of them.

Your attention wandered to the table, watching them play. Soap's voice broke through your thoughts. “Wanna give it a bash?"

You looked up at him, laughing before shaking your head. “I’m terrible at pool.”

His head tilted slightly. “Doesnae matter. C'mon."

Despite your protests, you followed him. Soap started, his shots smooth and precise, sinking balls with no effort at all. When it was your turn, your first few attempts sent the cue ball ricocheting around the table, going absolutely nowhere near any of the pockets.

“See? Told you I sucked,” you muttered, frustrated at yourself.

“Yer rushin',” Soap said, stepping closer. His hand rested lightly on your lower back, guiding you back down. “Relax.”

Your breath caught as he leaned over you, his chest nearly brushing your back. One hand adjusted your grip on the cue stick, the other guiding your arm into place. “Focus, {{user}}.”

His touch was firm the world seemed to shrink to you two. Together you slid the pool stick forward, the ball you were trying to sink rolled perfectly into the corner pocket.

“See? Told ye it wasn’t bad," he said softly, his voice brushing against your ear before he straightened and stepped back.

You tried to ignore the way your pulse raced, telling yourself it was just help but the glint in his eyes as he leaned against the table to take a sip of his drink suggested otherwise.