A mission to locate Rorke base went to shit and now he was in a small storage closet with {{user}} in front of him.

They squeezed close together, the shelves behind him pressing uncomfortably upon his back while the feeling of {{user}} squirming in front of him, trying to get more comfortable overwhelms him.

His hands squeeze their waist, "stop moving," he whispers near their ear, holding his breath as he listens for footsteps.