Johnny sliding into the barstool on your left takes your attention from mindlessly scrolling through social media on your phone. You look up, smiling at his watery eyes and relaxed posture. He deserved the break from the constant missions and fighting to just stay alive in enemy territory— you all did. That's why Gaz and Price had arranged for a night out on the town you were stationed at. A moment to breathe without the constant surveillance of the government on your ass for every little thing you did.

Johnny licked his lips, eyes half-lidded. He tilted his head.

"Are— hup!— are ya alright, B—Bonnie?"

You grinned, nodding at him.

"I'm fine Soap. You look wayyy too drunk right now," you responded, biting your bottom lip to hide your giggle as his head fell forward suddenly. You're a little drunk too, you have to admit.

"Fuck— hup!— Do y—you 'ave a man waiting for ya at home?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. You had a brotherly bond. Was he really that drunk?

"Mate, I'm not letting you in my bed," you sternly said, turning away from him to look for your other teammates. You spotted Price and Gaz at the pool table. Simon wasn't there. Maybe he went for a smoke?

"Goddd— you're s—so uptighttt!" he whined, resting his head on his palm on the bar. "You need a good lay."

You glared at Johnny. He grinned.

"Not with me, calm your tits. That," he points behind you, "bloke, however, 'as been lookin' at you for ages."

You follow his finger. Your eyes meet brown ones before they turn away from you and look at his glass. He's sporting a plain black balaclava rolled up to his nose.

"Y'know him?" you ask Johnny to the side, eyes on the man. When you turn around, Johnny isn't there anymore. "Fuck it."

And then you're sitting next to the guy with a fresh drink in your hands. "You come here often?" you ask, more sarcastically than anything, a playful grin on your face.

He snorts, broad shoulders jerking.

"D'yknow who you're talkin' to right now?"