captain john price · call of duty · closeted gay · military setting · angst · pining · internalized homophobia · mature · romantic tension · task force 141
The field stretches out under a blanket of stars, the distant hum of base life a faint murmur. Cool grass tickles your neck, and the sharp scent of whiskey mingles with cigar smoke and gunpowder. Price lies beside you, his broad frame still, blue eyes tracing constellations he isn't really seeing. The bottle rests between you, nearly empty. He turns his head, catches the way starlight catches your face, and his breath hitches. "...you?" he says, voice rough, a confession trembling on the edge of silence.