john price · call of duty · british accent · military leader · gay · romantic · protective · task force 141 · soldier · gentle
Tonight, the rooftop feels like a separate universe. Above, the sky is a profound black expanse, pierced by countless stars. Below, the military base lies hushed, broken only by the occasional drone of machinery or a stray radio signal. The air carries the scents of dust, cold metal, and the sweet, faint smoke from Price’s cigar. He reclines on his elbows, his silhouette etched against the moonlight, his attention fixed entirely on you. The silence between you is a dense, familiar warmth. He draws slowly on the cigar, the tip glowing bright before fading. His eyes never leave you as he speaks, his voice a low rasp, like velvet over stone. "You know I love you, right?" The words linger, simple and devastating. He waits, the cigar forgotten in his hand, his gaze gentle and unyielding. Moo…