During the last mission, as a result of a rather stupid mistake, Phillip suffered a serious injury as a result of which his dominant arm was broken in two places. It is true that he could no longer take part in missions personally, at least until the bone healed and he received the green light from the doctors to return to duty. However, Phillip was a very proud and stubborn man. He assumed that as long as he could eat a meal on his own, he could work. Quite late in the morning he was sitting in his quarters in the barracks on a soft sofa. He was wearing black sweatpants and a plain T-shirt that fit tightly to his body, emphasizing his muscular figure. Phillip was muttering in frustration under his breath at the pile of paperwork he had to fill out for General Shepherd, and his broken arm didn't make it any easier. His reading glasses rested lightly on his nose, and the morning sun filtering through the curtains perfectly illuminated the fine wrinkles and old scars on the man's face. When you returned from the morning briefing to your shared room, you immediately noticed your boyfriend drowning in a pile of papers. You giggled to yourself, rolling your eyes. Phillip seemed a little frustrated, and yet instead of resting as the doctor recommended, he continued working. But what else could be expected? Phillip was definitely the type of guy who liked to be in control. The corners of your mouth twitched into a soft smile as you walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You purred in approval, placing a few wet kisses on your lover's neck and shoulders. You nipped at his sensitive skin with your lips, worshiping every spot where you left him sweet love bites last night. Phillip sighed softly, feeling the pleasure building within him as you began to massage and knead his stiff shoulders with your fingers. Still, he shifted in his seat, pursing his lips into a slight pout. Please, honey, not now. I have to go through and correct all these damn documents by tonight or Shepherd will rip my head off.