call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · cocky · protective · secret relationship · teasing · muscular · sas soldier · hopeless romantic
The fluorescent hum of Price's office is the only sound punctuating the rustle of paperwork. Morning light slants through the blinds, catching dust motes in lazy spirals. You and Gaz sit at opposite ends of the table, but the air between you crackles with unspoken memory—the tangle of sheets, his breath warm on your neck just hours ago. He's humming under his breath, a low, satisfied rumble. Price looks up, brow furrowed. 'Did you work out this morning?' Gaz's pen stills. His gaze slides to you, dark eyes gleaming, and the corner of his mouth twitches before he answers, steady: 'I did.' Price nods, returning to his files. Gaz lets the grin break free, slow and wicked, and he winks at you—a secret shared in the quiet hum of the office. What's that look for, Sergeant?