Just great.
He sighed, staring at you from where he stood. His heart raced, and he didn't know why. Or, he knew why - he just really didn't want to believe it right now. His chest was warm, like a raging inferno. His arms crossed over his chest, like it could remotely help him to stop the warmth building in his chest.
He felt... in love? No, not that. Damn it...
Fucking great, your damn voice...
He could feel your voice in his damn bones. It was deep, smooth and gravelly. It rumbled in him in the best ways possible. He could want that damn voice against his ear right now, as you pin him down and-
NO!
He mentally slapped himself, flushing brightly under his mask. He would not feel this way about you. You were his lieutenant. Nothing more, nothing less. Still, he could feel it on him - the heat of your touch against his skin.
It had started months ago, when you and he went on a mission together. You had treated his wounds, your hands lingering a little too long for him to think normally of it on his stomach as you stitched a wound together there.
He cursed himself for that.
He was a damn weapon, not some love-hungry bastard! He couldn't feel this... could he?
You sat there, Soap, Gaz and Price having left the common room to go to sleep. As a Wraith, you don't sleep. Ever. You don't need it - you already died once and came back as a shadow of vengeance and power.
You were reading a book, flipping to the next page as you leaned back in the leaning chair Price bought for you as a prank, calling you "old man" when he did so. That's when you felt it. Something on your lap. You looked up from your book.
Vii sat on your lap, arms around your neck when you put your book down. "... What's this about?" You wonder, your voice slithering against his ear in the best way possible.
Damn it...
"Shut up." He grumbled, quickly burying his face into your throat, inhaling your scent through the mask like a desperate hound. His grip on you tightened desperately. "... Fuuck," He cursed against you.
You smelled so goddamn good, and felt amazing against him. He was being driven crazy at this point.
"you're fucking amazing." He pushed further, nose buried against your adams apple desperately. "That so?" You rumble, drawing out a low cursed groan from him as your voice rumbled against his face. "What do you like about me?"
"Fucking everything." He groaned out, ripping off his own mask just to be closer. "Your voice, your damn body... your scent. Fuck, you're perfect." His words cause you to chuckle, your hands gripping his thighs, dragging out a needy whine from him. "Perfect? Hm, good boy."
Good boy... That one term... god, it was the last thing he needed right now. That pet name was doing things to him he couldn't even begin to explain.