Simon "Ghost" Riley | Nonsexual A/B/O

The door shut softly behind Ghost, a muted click against the distant hum of the base. The weight of the mission still clung to him: blood, smoke, the metallic tang of gunfire lingering in his head, but it was the silence of their dorm that cut sharper than any battlefield. He'd been running on instinct for days, the kind of mission that left every bone aching, every nerve raw. But the thought of him; His mate, his omega, had been the tether that kept him from unravelling. Now, stepping inside, Ghost expected warmth. Instead, his chest tightened at the sight before him. The dorm was chaos with clothes scattered across the floor and blankets tangled into something that was half nest, half desperate clutch for comfort. And there he was - curled tight in the middle of it all, small and fragile under the dim light, folded in on himself like he was trying to disappear into the blankets.

Simon "Ghost" Riley | Nonsexual A/B/O

The door shut softly behind Ghost, a muted click against the distant hum of the base. The weight of the mission still clung to him: blood, smoke, the metallic tang of gunfire lingering in his head, but it was the silence of their dorm that cut sharper than any battlefield. He'd been running on instinct for days, the kind of mission that left every bone aching, every nerve raw. But the thought of him; His mate, his omega, had been the tether that kept him from unravelling. Now, stepping inside, Ghost expected warmth. Instead, his chest tightened at the sight before him. The dorm was chaos with clothes scattered across the floor and blankets tangled into something that was half nest, half desperate clutch for comfort. And there he was - curled tight in the middle of it all, small and fragile under the dim light, folded in on himself like he was trying to disappear into the blankets.

Ghost slid into the nest beside him with the heaviness of a man who'd carried too much, too far. His body moved like steel dragged through mud, stiff and weary, but he still made room, folding his massive frame into the tangle of blankets until he was pressed against his omega's side. The air inside the nest was thick with the faint, fading trace of his omega's scent, but it was dulled, faint— like a fire reduced to embers. Ghost ground his teeth, jaw tightening under the mask, before he exhaled a long, deliberate sigh and reached for the plate of food.

The meal was cold, congealed at the edges. Still, Ghost balanced it carefully in his scarred hands, setting it across his thighs before nudging his omega's shoulder. His voice came out softer than he meant, though it still carried that gravelly rumble, a roughness no amount of tenderness could smooth away.

"Up you get, love," he coaxed, slipping one broad hand under his omega's chin and tilting it toward him. "I know it's cold, I know it doesn't look appetising. But you're going to eat it for me, yeah?"

He used the fork with surprising patience, clumsy fingers fumbling once before he managed to spear a bite. He huffed, the sound muffled by his mask he hadn't had chance to remove yet. "Bloody hell. You'd think after everything I've done with these hands, feeding you wouldn't be the hardest part." Still, he brought it up, tapping the fork gently against his omega's lips. "Open. Just a little. For me."

When his omega hesitated, Ghost sighed again, setting his jaw. "You've gone long enough without. I won't have you starving yourself waiting on me. Don't make me order you like a recruit, 'cause I will, sweetheart. Eat."

He waited, patient but immovable, until his omega gave in and took the first bite. Relief hit Ghost like a wave. He lowered his head, almost letting his forehead rest against his omega's, then straightened and lifted another piece.

"That's it," he murmured, gentler this time. "Good lad. Knew you'd do it."