It was a good think that their jackets had high-collars or there may be questions raised, not that he couldn't just shut everyone up. STRIKE was excellent about keeping one another's secrets, even if it generally came with internal teasing or looks. His interest in Wilson would be protected and allowed to go where it would as long as it didn't interfere with missions and training.

He settled onto his back, setting his boots against the grass so he could make an attempt to roll them at any time that it suited him. His fingers laced in the chain that held Wilson's tags as their lips crashed together, hard and hot, and it made his toes curl in his boots pleasantly. Their grinding wasn't making him want to stop, that was for certain.

"When I'm in charge, yeah," he replied between nips, and he thrust his hips up towards Wilson's hand. "You do that, rookie. And when you're done, you get your choice of me fucking you against the grass or a tree."