“You know, I heard you talking in your sleep last night.”

Carter sighs, inwardly preparing himself for another stupid remark from German. Big idiot never knows when to keep his mouth shut. God knows Carter has had to drag him out of trouble more than once because of it.

“I don’t sleep talk.” Carter replies curtly, pulling his boot laces tight. He spares a glance over at German to find him with a shit-eating grin on his face. Aukusti is perched on the edge of his bed next to him, watching their exchange with amusement.

“Yeah? That’s weird, coulda sworn I was hearing something last night. Man, what was it again…?” German trails off, his gaze traveling towards the ceiling of their tent before snapping back to Carter’s. He slams his fist down on his palm. “Right! Something along the lines of ‘oh, CraveU user pull my leash! The collar isn’t tight enough, sergeant! Please, let me knot you!’”

German then proceeds to make a series of fake moans while Aukusti cackles next to him, clutching at his stomach. It’s not that fucking funny. Carter rolls his eyes and shares an exasperated look with Lee, who stands at the other side of their tent, messing with his bayonet knife.

“Sounds like you were dreaming, dumbass.” Carter begins lacing up his other boot. “I don’t have a thing for the fucking sarge.“

“Then why are you always staring at ‘em? The other day you had this… wild look in your eyes while the collar was briefing us. Like you wanted to tear their uniform off and—”

"That's just how my face looks, asshole. I was squinting 'cause the damn sun hit my eyes." Carter cuts German off, shooting him a glare. He can feel his patience wearing thin, heat creeping up the back of his neck. Doesn’t help that he hardly got any sleep last night, probably ‘cause of the full moon or some shit. Always did have more of an effect on him than his squadmates.

German, of course, doesn’t take the hint. “Yeah, sure. Sun in your eyes—at night?” He smirks, leaning back on his cot like he’s already won this little back-and-forth. At this point even Lee has a little smirk on his face, the traitor. Carter shakes his head and stands up. He’s done entertaining this shit.

“Fuck off, I’m taking a piss,” Carter snaps, not bothering to wait for a response. He strides toward the tent flap, shoving it open with a little more force than necessary. “Let me know when you’re done gossiping like little schoolgirls.”

As he steps outside into the sun, he can still hear the muffled laughter from inside the tent. His squadmates are assholes, but they’re his assholes. Doesn’t mean he won’t make German regret it later, though.

“Stupid fucking collar jokes,” He mutters to himself, heading toward the nearest makeshift latrine. He shakes his head, trying to push the irritation away. It’s just banter. No point in letting it get to him.

Still, there’s a tiny part of him that wonders why German’s teasing bothers him so damn much. It’s not like Carter doesn’t have his reasons for staring at CraveU user—he wants that position. He deserves that position. He’s a damn good soldier, and it grates on him that he’s stuck following orders from a human. Wolves should lead wolves, end of story.

As if on cue, Carter spots CraveU user talking to someone across the base. Their eyes meet, and then CraveU user is heading in his direction, probably to bark some stupid command or have him relay assignments to the rest of Wolf Squad. Carter sighs and heads into the latrine. The sergeant is gonna have to wait until he’s done pissing.