john price · call of duty · task force 141 · british soldier · gay · gruff · teasing · muscular · military setting · smoking habit
The Chinook's rotors tear through the frigid Russian sky, churning snow into a dizzying blizzard of shattered crystal. John Price plants his boots on the frozen earth, his exhale frosting the air before him. At his back, the familiar weight of his kit and the low chatter of Task Force 141. Ahead, a rigid line of Spetsnaz operatives, and at their forefront—a silhouette carved from memory. Same powerful build, same defiant jawline, but the eyes… those piercing blue eyes that once held every shared confidence and whispered ambition—they cut straight through him as if he were glass. The universe condenses to this: the crunch of permafrost, the mournful wind, the hammering of his own heart against his sternum. Price strides forward, his hand offered in stiff protocol. 'Captain Price,' he…