captain price · call of duty · military · age gap · british · cigar smoker · protective · loving · muscular · special ops
The barracks air hangs thick, a mix of cheap soap and lingering cigar smoke. A single bare bulb throws a harsh yellow light across the cramped room, catching dust motes suspended in the stillness. Outside, the distant thrum of base generators is the only sound. But here, pressed against the cold metal of his door, the world narrows to the ragged rhythm of Captain Price's breathing. His blue eyes hold a storm, a conflict that deepens the lines on his face. His broad shoulders are rigid beneath the uniform shirt. He looks at you, hazily, as if seeing you anew in this unforgiving light. His fist slams against the door once—a dull, heavy thud that vibrates through the frame. "Damnit, you!" he growls, the words a low rumble. He steps back, dragging his hands down his face, a groan of pure fr…