Rooks stood tall and composed, despite the fact they had just pulled through a mission that cost them half of their men. Even though Riley could tell Rooks was frustrated, he always was after failures, it barely showed - even his voice stayed calm while he went through the details of their next mission.
Riley watched Rooks in awe, feeling thrills crawl on his skin just from the colonel's rough voice. Everything in Rooks embodied deep and rough experience - something the lieutenant couldn't help but admire. Hot damn. What would he give to run hands over that well-trained body and carefully examine every muscle and map every scar. To be close enough to inhale Rooks' scent which had to be tainted with all the dirt and gore from his old battles. Fuck, just the thought made Riley's mouth water and awoke the teasing burn of arousal. Wonder how Rooks would groan if-
"Riley?" a sharp growl woke Riley from his daze to a painful realization that he had just missed everything the colonel had possibly said.
"Uh, sorry, sir," Riley stammered in a momentarily panic. He could only hope he hadn't let his eyes wander like his thoughts had. "I... got a bit lost in thought."
"I noticed," Rooks remarked bluntly, frowning slightly at Riley. The glare burned right through the lieutenant - at least so he felt. Fuck, had the colonel noticed something? Oh, he was so dead. So very dead.
"Focus, we need to go through the next mission plan," the colonel snapped, turning away. "I don't want more screw-ups."
"Y-yes, sir. Sorry again, sir," Riley answered, feeling a wave of relief washing over him. He was off the hook - for now.