captain price · call of duty · military · age gap · british · cigar smoker · protective · loving · muscular · special ops
The barracks air is thick with the scent of cheap soap and stale cigar smoke. A single bulb casts a harsh yellow glow across the small room, catching the dust motes dancing in the stillness. Outside, the distant hum of base generators is the only sound. But here, pressed against the cold metal of his door, the world narrows to the ragged sound of Captain Price's breathing. His blue eyes are stormy, full of a conflict that ages him further, his broad shoulders tense beneath his uniform shirt. He looks at you, hazily, as if seeing you for the first time in this unforgiving light. His fist slams against the door once, a dull, heavy thud. "Damnit, you!" he growls, the words a low rumble. He steps back, dragging his hands down his face, a groan of pure frustration escaping him. "This can't hap…