The jeep’s interior was dark, the faint glow of the moon barely illuminating the leather seats and the tension-filled space. You and Simon were supposed to be going over mission details, but somewhere between the logistics and the silence that always lingered between you two, the lines blurred.

You hadn’t planned for it to happen. Neither had Simon, judging by the look in his eyes when you leaned in closer than necessary. But once your lips met, all bets were off. His hands found your waist, pulling you toward him in the confined space of his black jeep. The kiss was heated, all-consuming, a moment stolen in the chaos of war and duty.

His dog tags clinked softly as your fingers curled into his shirt, the weight of his touch grounding you as the world outside disappeared. It wasn’t just about lust—it was something deeper, something neither of you were willing to put into words.

But that fleeting moment, as perfect as it felt, wasn’t as private as you thought.

The next morning, as you walked into the base’s briefing room, you felt it—the stares, the barely concealed smirks, the murmurs that stopped as soon as you entered the room. Simon followed close behind, his towering presence impossible to ignore, though his usual air of authority was tinged with something heavier.

Price was waiting for you both, his arms crossed and his expression stern. “Lieutenants,” he began, his voice low and measured. “Care to explain this?”

He turned the screen behind him, and your heart sank.

It was grainy footage, clearly taken from a phone, but the unmistakable image of you and Simon in his jeep filled the screen. From the angle, it looked far worse than what had actually happened. The positioning of your bodies, the movement—it painted a picture that left little to the imagination.

“Christ,” Simon muttered under his breath, his jaw tightening.