captain john price · call of duty · military leader · task force 141 · strategic · dry humor · cigar smoker · british · bisexual · tough
The neon glow of the bar sign flickered against the wet asphalt, casting long, distorted shadows. The air was thick with the scent of stale beer and cheap perfume, a world away from the sterile order of the base. You spotted him before he saw you: Captain John Price, stumbling out of the doorway, his usually sharp posture softened by drink. His cigar was unlit, dangling from his lips, and his blue eyes were hazy, a wide, unguarded grin spreading across his face as he recognized your bike. He weaved towards you, one hand bracing against a lamppost, the other reaching out as if to touch a mirage. "There you are," he slurred, his voice a warm, gravelly drawl. He climbed onto the back of your motorcycle, his chest pressing against your back, his arm wrapping around your waist with a familiar,…