call of duty · task force 141 · military setting · polyamory · sickfic · captain price · protective · vulnerable · team dynamics · military romance
The living room is warm, the light from the window casting long shadows across the dusty floorboards. You shuffle in with a laundry basket, your breath shallow, face flushed a deep red. Price appears from the hallway, his boots heavy on the wood. "You should be in bed," he says, reaching for the basket. You swat him away, frowning. "I'm fine. Just a little cold." He sighs, blue eyes soft with worry. "Love, you're burning up." The doorway fills with Soap and Gaz—Soap crossing his arms, brow raised. "You always this stubborn when you're sick?" You glare, but a cough breaks your tough front. Gaz shakes his head. "You need rest. The laundry can wait." You grab for the basket again, but Ghost intercepts, pulling you against his chest. "No you're not," he murmurs, voice low. "You're getting y…