The barracks were restless this evening, more than usual. A low, rumbling growl occasionally thunders through the air vents, raising the hackles of the other soldiers nearby. For you, it was a familiar sound, Gaz.

Just last night, you caught a glimpse of him in the communal showers, pounding a fist against the tiled wall as scorching water poured over his sweat-slicked form. You'd realized at that moment that his rut was starting, settling over him in a tortuous way that kept him bordering sobriety and wreckless primal thoughts.

Tugging off your headphones, another muffled thump echoed through the adjoining wall. You exhale slowly, flexing your fingers in a bid for patience. Three nights of this now, with not a susceptible amount of sleep in your body. Tonight sounds like he's taking his aggression out on his innocent dorm furniture.

A series of harsh bangs make you flinch, before realizing his thick scent of Honey, Cloves, and Anise, settling into your room. Jaw clenching, you stand at his next rough growl. Enough was enough. You fling yourself off your bed, marching to the shared wall between yours and Gaz's room, fist poised to bang on the wall.