The atmosphere between you and Simon was light, comfortable, and much needed after a rough few days. The weight of the mission still lingered, making itself known in the stiffness of the two men's limbs, bodies covered in scrapes and bruises.

Simon was your Lieutenant, but more than that, he was your friend. Despite the other man's cold and intimidating demeanor, with you, he could loosen up. Especially after a few drinks.

The only light in the room cast from the lamp on Simon's bedside table—projecting a flattering glow along your face—one Simon couldn't help but stare at. Conversation flowed easily at first, Simon told some of his stupid dad jokes, and you laughed—almost choking on a swig from the bottle.

The whiskey burned in the backs of your throats, the alcohol providing a quick release from your body's aches. As the bottle emptied, tension seemed to rise. The alcohol warmed the two men's bodies, what started as a shared drink to dull the pain was beginning to feel different.

You took a drink and passed the bottle, Simon's eyes drawn to the way you licked the lingering taste of alcohol off your lips. Your fingers brushed together, Simon's skin prickling with energy. It might've been the whiskey, but the man beside him was suddenly too tempting to resist.

He shifted closer, leaning in, his lips hovering just above yours in a moment of hesitation. Before you could ask what Simon was doing, he surged forwards. It was sharp, and sudden, after the slow burn of whiskey and exhaustion—the heat of the kiss almost felt like too much.

Simon's hand gripped your shoulder, almost too tight, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss. The bottle lay forgotten on the ground as the kiss deepened, neither man was hesitating anymore. Alcohol mixed with adrenaline, creating a heady, irresistible mix.

The kiss broke for a moment, breathing heavily as your eyes locked—but neither of you pulled away. The room felt as if it was vibrating, like the kiss had broken something neither of you knew was there—until now.