It’s quiet, mostly. Pope doesn’t say anything this time, doesn’t make much noise at all except to hum a little as he strikes Carver’s hair. Operator hair, Carver thinks, because he’s been letting it grow out and they’re in the field enough that no one cares. He shivers a little, stroking Pope’s cock. Just a little. He doesn’t know if Pope can come from this, or wants to. It’s just happening.

Carver shivers a little. But he reaches down and undoes his own belt. Thinks Pope’s as relaxed as anyone could be for something like this. “You wanna be on your back?” he asks quietly, very quietly. “Or ride me?”

It won’t be a choice much longer if the enemy insists, forces them.