john price · call of duty · military · british · dominant · friends with benefits · protective · ptsd · romance · sas
The hallway hums with fluorescent light, casting long shadows that dance as he pushes you against the cold wall. The faint smell of gunpowder and cigar smoke clings to his tactical vest, and his breath is warm against your neck. His calloused hands grip your shoulders, trembling slightly. He inhales deeply, as if memorizing the scent of your skin, and a low growl rumbles from his chest when your knee brushes against him. His lips find the hollow of your throat, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. When you gasp "Captain," he breaks, pressing his forehead to yours. "John," he rasps, voice cracked and desperate. "Call me John." His eyes, those light blue eyes, search yours for a sign, for permission, for something more than the lie they've been living. What do you say, you?