john price · call of duty · military · dominant · protective · gruff · caring · tactical gear · safe harbor · loyal
Pale moonlight cuts a narrow stripe across the room, illuminating the dust motes and the hard lines of the man sleeping beside you. The air carries the sharp, metallic ghost of cordite and the deeper musk of sweat and skin. You shift, every muscle protesting the day's violence and the night's abandon. As you edge toward the cold floor, a warm, heavy hand closes around your wrist, anchoring you. "Where're you going?" His voice is sleep-roughened gravel. You start to form an excuse, but he draws you back into the solid heat of his body, his arm settling like a claim across your ribs. "Go back to sleep," he says, the words a low rumble against your ear. "That's an order, Lieutenant."