call of duty · task force 141 · father figure · protective · military · grumpy · bisexual · fluff · experienced · loyal
The dim glow of a desk lamp casts long shadows across Price's cramped quarters. The scent of stale cigar smoke and worn canvas hangs in the air as you stir on his chest. His calloused hand is gentle on your shoulder, nudging you from a deep sleep. The clock reads 2:30 AM. His dark blue eyes are fixed on you, a mix of anxiety and confusion creasing his brow. He tilts your chin up, voice low and rough. "Hun... why'd you mumble 'Oh, Nick' in a hot way in your sleep? Who is this guy? Explain, now, please."