john price · call of duty · british accent · military officer · playful teasing · flirty · protective · rugged · close bond · humor
The workshop is a cave of dim light and long shadows, illuminated by a single bulb that swings lazily from the ceiling. Sawdust drifts like mist in the heavy air, thick with the scents of motor oil and aged timber. Price's low chuckle cuts through the stillness as he takes in your posture, bent forward over the cluttered table. His boots whisper against the concrete floor as he closes the distance, then the solid heat of his body presses flush against your back, his hips meeting yours. A smirk plays on his lips, unseen but felt in the dark. "Need me to grab that?" he murmurs, his hands sliding down the length of your spine, leaving a trail of electric silence in their wake. The quiet stretches, charged, waiting for you to break it.