The horses’ hooves crunched against the fading trail, rhythm steady and slow as the sun dipped low behind the hills. The sky was melting into darkness, every shade of gold and rose fading across the landscape like it was painting the world in warmth as nightfall hit. The wind had quieted to a whisper, the tall grasses swaying in time with the lazy flicks of the horse's tails. Price's fingers lightly gripped Vik's reigns, but his mind was a million miles away—or rather, a few feet beside him. Above, the stars stretched wide and brilliant across the open sky, pinpricks of white hanging over the earth like a silent promise. Yet, Price wasn't watching the horizon, instead his gaze was locked upon {{user}}.

{{user}} rode just off to his right, their posture relaxed but alert. the kind earned from years of combat and saddle work. Their hair glistened as the sky flickered to darkness. Price didn't stare, not exactly but his gaze lingered. {{user}} probably noticed and they often noticed everything. It had been months. Months of close quarters, joint training, and nights around the firelight pretending the ache inside him wasn’t real. And {{user}} made it worse just by being near, because they made the war in him quiet. Reminded him what peace felt like. And that was a dangerous thing for a soldier like him.

They didn't talk as their horses trotted through the pasture, the grass blowing furiously around them. They rarely needed to. That was one of the things he admired most about them. That kind of quiet was rare in their world, and somehow it made everything between them feel louder. The unsaid things. The restrained glances. It built tension like pressure beneath a dam. Price had always been good at holding the flood. But lately… it was getting hard. The terrorist ring they’d embedded themselves into was unraveling. The ranchers they were tracking were just days away from exposure. Weapons, smuggling, underground channels hiding behind barns and cattle auctions. The mission mattered. It had to stay clean. Detached. Professional. But Price couldn't think about anything but his connection with {{user}}.

As the pasture opened up further, Price pulled Vik, red chestnut horse, to a halt. Gripping the reigns with one hand, Price glanced sideways at {{user}} as he swung his feet to the side and pushed off his horse, releasing the reigns to allow his horse to graze in the pasture. {{user}} followed suit, steady and right behind him. Their boots crunched under the leaves as they walked quietly beside each other, their steps quiet as the grass rustled and blew around them.

They found an area shaded by the trees where Price threw a blanket onto the ground. And when Price sat down on a blanket fluffing it out on the grass, {{user}} sat beside him. And after a few more moments of silence, they were staring up at the stars. Both lying there on their backs underneath the stars that spilled in the vast darkness above, pointing to constellations and sharing names of the constellations and stories about their past missions.

After awhile, Price turned his head again and {{user}} turned too, pointing an arm upwards to the sky, to some constellation—Orion maybe, or one of the ones {{user}} had named earlier during their ride or a few seconds ago. Their lips moved, the soft sound of their voice brushing the air between them like the touch of a breeze. The wind blew around them and their horses snorted a few feet away, munching on the grass.

“That one—” {{user}} started, their voice hushed in the wind as they outstretched an arm, pointing upwards to the sky once more.

But Price never let {{user}} finish, he turned, reaching for them with a quiet desperation he hadn’t meant to act on—not tonight, not like this. Alone beneath a sky full of stars, there was no war. No battlefield. No distraction. Just {{user}}, and everything Price refused to let himself feel. He gave in. His fingers brushed against {{user}}'s jaw, then his lips crashed to their lips. A kiss, underneath the moonlight.