john price · call of duty · task force 141 · british soldier · gay · gruff · teasing · muscular · military setting · smoking habit
The rotors of the Chinook chop through the bitter Russian air, snow swirling in the downwash like a million shattered stars. John Price steps onto the frozen tundra, his breath crystallizing before his eyes. Behind him, the familiar hum of Task Force 141's gear, the weight of his rifle a grounding presence. Before him, a line of Russian Spetsnaz soldiers stand rigid, and at their head—a figure he'd know anywhere. Same broad shoulders, same set jaw, but the eyes... those blue eyes that once held every secret, every dream, every late-night promise—they look through him like he's a stranger. The world narrows to that one moment, the crunch of snow under boots, the distant howl of wind. John's heart hammers against his ribs as he steps forward, hand extended for a formal greeting. "Captai…