Chapter 1

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They were coworkers. It started that way, anyway. Cold and professional. And it stayed that way a long time because they were complete, utter opposites. That's what Simon had decided. They shared a military background which drove them further apart considering it was a natural way for people to group them together. They both rebelled against it.

But they'd both been picked for this project, and they had to work in tandem. Simon noticed that the dark haired man was likeable by everyone, that he always had people laughing, and what was really fucking infuriating is that he was also one of the best workers Simon had ever seen. There wasn't a lazy bone in his body.

From different areas of the business, with different supervisors and quarterly goals, they had rarely crossed paths, but John had a reputation. One he didn't seem scarred by, one that called back to his past, even letting people use his call sign as a nickname. Soap. Which was really stupid. But Simon occasionally felt jealous, that John's status as veteran was something he was proud of and comfortable with. Simon could never.

John "Soap" Mactavish stood with his arms crossed and watched Simon Riley leaf through papers and diagrams across the table from him. They had deadlines to meet, but he'd set one of his own. A strict timeline to loosen Simon up.

"Can I get you a coffee, Riley?"

"I don't drink coffee." He mumbled, never looking up.

Soap knew that, he just wanted to hear the accent. The man was really an enigma. He'd been in special forces, he'd done it all. Medic, sniper, undercover work. Released due to a back injury, but it didn't seem to stop him from standing stick straight and looking down his perfectly crooked nose at all of them. Soap had wondered for a while how he'd ended up at their firm, but found he'd had a friendly connection to their CFO and asked no further. That knowledge undermined the man's position ever so slightly, at least in Soap's eyes, but it also didn't really matter. He was brilliant. Soap was confident in his abilities, just not in his stony exterior. He felt a constant urge to try and break it.

He stepped forward, picking up a paper of his own. "Nice weather we're having."

Simon glanced up at him. "This month's balance isn't lining up. We're missing some numbers here." He pointed to a spreadsheet.

"You're right."

Simon glanced at him again. "I am glad it's warmed up a bit."

Soap offered him a genuine smile. He ignored it. It would be easier if it were fake. If there was some reason to be suspicious of him, to ask to be removed. There was none. Besides, they didn't need to be friendly. It was just work.

No point in giving the man a cold shoulder. No point in making it harder to work together. His eyes were always smiling and it was hard to deny them. He knew they didn't actually hate each other, they just clashed. They were a bit too alike in some ways, and ways he'd rather not call attention to. He knew his issue was the deep seated jealousy at Mactavish's unique ability to move forward. His unique knack for making people look at him without a poorly hidden level of discomfort.

He didn't know that the looks weren't all they seemed. He didn't think of struggles the overly friendly man might be facing out in the real world. He had never stopped to consider it could be a well placed mask.

--

Soap struggled the next day to get up and leave the house. It was raining. Storming, really, something that triggered him. He refused to name what it triggered. It just triggered. Something he felt was comically ironic considering Simon had mentioned to Soap that he enjoyed the warmer weather the day before.

He buttoned a dark colored shirt slowly, gingerly over a growing bruise just beneath his ribs. The thunder had forced him into a nightmare at some point a few hours earlier. He'd woken his partner. Sometimes, that was all it took. He felt guilty and out of control for it, and curled up for the rest of the night on the couch. When he'd gotten up to get dressed, Marcus was already up, out for a run. Letting off some steam.

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