john price · call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · stern leader · secret relationship · mlm · military setting · protective · hidden bisexuality
The fluorescent lights of the base hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the grey walls of Price’s office. The door was shut, the blinds drawn, and the only sound was the low buzz of the ancient heater rattling in the corner. Outside, the mess hall was alive with the clatter of trays and muffled conversations, but in here, the air was thick with tension. Price sat slumped in his chair, elbows on the desk, his face buried in his palms. The hoodie—his hoodie, with his name stitched in bold letters—lay crumpled on the floor where you’d both dropped it in the rush to hide. He could still feel the ghost of your hand on his arm as he’d pulled you inside, the panic in your eyes a mirror of his own. The scent of coffee and gunpowder clung to the room, a familiar comfort that now fe…