This Might Be A Bit Weird, But Hear Me Out:

When Price is alone, he thinks a lot. So much so to the point where he won’t even be there mentally because his mind is wandering off down the street worrying about the bar that’s closing down later that evening.

Nik doesn’t like it when Price gets like this, especially when something’s just gone wrong. So, to combat his love’s overthinking, he’s found ways to keep him engaged.

Sometimes he’ll talk his head off about his day(Price is a good listener, so he doesn’t mind), sometimes he’ll take him for a walk outside base, and other times he’ll do “childish” activities with him like coloring or building a complicated lego set.

Anything to keep John’s big baby blue’s shining is worth it to Nik, because it means he’s here with him, not just a shell of his husband.

Not NikPrice related(sorry), but more Gaz related.

Gaz probably has an immune system similar to a Victorian Child’s. One cough, one sneeze, one sniffle, and the man’s down and out with a cold or the flu.

…

Soap calls him “Tinneas” as a joke every time, and he gets punched every time.

UGH, the boys finding out that they’ve got some of sergeant Price’s traits is so awesome sauce. Loved this!

The 141 looking at videos of younger price doing things they got in trouble for and got them yelled at by price

Keepsakes

___

"God, when was the last time he came here?"

"Long enough he doesn't want to bother cleaning this shit out himself," Ghost muttered as he shoves a facemask into Gaz's hands. The dust made it necessary.

Price finally made the decision to have his old storage unit cleaned out. He himself hadn't bothered to do anything yet, but he's convinced the boys to do some cleaning for him. He gave them a list of certain things he's looking for, then to their surprise Laswell did as well. Apparently it was a shared storage unit against Price’s will.

"There's the box Laswell told us to grab for her."

Most of the videos were in boxes marked by young agent Laswell, a clear warning not to touch them to a Lieutenant Price.

As they stuffed certain boxes into the van they arrived in, Soap found an old jacket. Not worn in years, SAS embroidered on it with Price's name proud on the breast. Soap shook the thing violently, to relieve it of any unwanted bugs and dust, before put it on. Almost a perfect fit.

"Hm, think he'll notice?"

Gaz snorts as he dares to open one of the boxes, "You're him made over."

Soap grins despite the sarcasm and starts posing, earning laughter from Gaz. Ghost rolled his eyes at him while he sorted through the boxes. He finally stops next to a particular box, kicking it lightly, "Nik box."

Soap and Gaz immediately dart over. Nik was precious with his mementos. Safe guarded them like a dragon. None of them saw anything he didn't want them to see, not picture or saved bullet casing. Not a single story unless he gives it up. Laswell and Price weren't so closed off and with start up a story from asking.

"Oh- What do you think is in it?"

Ghost lightly kicks the box again before he confidently says- "Nudes."

Soap gags and Gaz cackles.

"The head of his enemies. Or their di-"

"Stop," Soap grumbles as he pulls the box to the side with some of Laswell's.

There was something precious about how close they were, Price getting a storage unit only for Laswell and Nik to shove their own things inside without care. They didn't have any doubt the only protest from Price was only a bit of grumbling before he just let it happen.

“I think Nik wouldn’t let anything… unsavory be left where we could find it. There’s no way he would forget the location of anything sensitive.”

“What if, and hear me out, he’s forgotten with old age?” Ghost countered seriously, Gaz cackling in response.

Soap opens the box without hesitating another second. Ghost and Gaz whipped their heads around to stare as Soap pulls out a large book. It was a photo album with a slip of paper labelling the front. In Russian of course, just like the writing labelling the box.

“Alright, who’s been paying attention in Nik’s sort and somewhat weird lessons in Russian?”

Ghost stares hard at the photo albums front, truly concentrating as hard as he could. Gaz stared for a few seconds, eyes flickering to Ghost a few times, like he was waiting for him to reply. He didn’t, so Gaz did.

“I think it’s along the lines of ‘my sweet John’.”

Soap gags dramatically, “God, is it actually nudes?”

Ghost hums, “It’s not like we haven’t seen them naked before.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to see anything else beyond basic locker room shit.”

They were delaying, even though all of them desperately did want to know what was inside. But none of them made a move, just staring at the photo album while also eying each other. After a third minute of rather uneasy silence, Ghost sighs loudly before he grabs the photo album.

“Well, might as well. What’s one more piece of trauma?”

He unties the string keeping it closed, taking a step back before taking a deep breath, bracing himself. Soap and Gaz stared at him, waiting. So Ghost flipped open the album.

“Oh.”

Soap and Gaz shared a look before looking back at him, “Oh?”

Ghost flips a page, then another, before looking up, “They’re candids. A lot of them.”

Soap and Gaz finally look, and he was right. Each page was several pictures of a young Price just existing. Some of him napping in odd places, stuffing his face with questionable looking food, arguing with a young Laswell — He was just existing. And his behavior displayed in the photos were familiar.

“Johnny, weren’t you napping under the table the other day?”

“Weren’t you stuffing your fast with the shit you found in the back of the fridge?”

Gaz takes over the photo album, fondly looking at the pictures. Several photos, if not all, were taken clearly without Price’s knowing.

“Good to know Nik hasn’t lost any love,” the countless times Gaz has caught the man taking pictures of Price without the man knowing. He really wanted to know what his photo gallery looked like.

Suddenly, Soap gasps. Gaz looks up and Soap is holding a video camera, grinning madly.

“Sex tapes.”

“Simon!”

Gaz eagerly reaches for the camera, “Let me see!”

He saw the box it came from, labelled by Laswell. It was safe to look through… maybe.

He messes with the camera, laughing gleefully when it still turns on. Ah, they don’t make them like they used to.

“This is history!”

“And blackmail,” it was clear why Ghost was here. He never would pass up an opportunity to hold something over someone’s head, even the people who could make him disappear.

Gaz selects a video and starts playing it, watching the tiny screen intently. He wasn’t expecting to witness a past event of Price arguing with a currently unknown SAS officer, one that appeared to out rank him. He was cussing the man out with his full chest, and Gaz couldn’t help but look up at Soap.

“… what is it? I hear yelling.”

“I think we took after Price more than he realizes.”

Soap and Ghost were on either of Gaz now, watching the tiny screen with their chins on Gaz’s shoulders. Gaz played another video.

This one started with the camera facing a grinning Laswell, none of them could recall ever seeing such a mischievous look on her before. The camera switches over to show Price sitting on top of a cabinet with a guitar in his arms. He was clearly waiting for someone to come through the door by the cabinet.

“Do you know how many times he’s bitched at me for climbing on furniture-“

“Shh!”

Price was grinning at the camera and Laswell, and then an infamous figure they’ve all heard of but saw few photos of walked through the door. Captain MacMillan left his mark on Price, but clearly Price also left a mark on the man. Upon entering the room, he turns to say something to Laswell, then Price aggressively started playing the guitar.

“JONATHAN YOU CUNT-“

Laswell cackles as MacMillan grabs Price’s leg, dragging him from the cabinet. The camera cuts off right as the cabinet comes down with Price, the shock on his face blurred on the screen as the video ends. Gaz covered his mouth and Ghost leaned away. Soap chose to break the silence.

“I think he would throw us into a lake with bricks tied to our feet if we showed him this.”

“Clearly we make copies.”

They knew he was trouble in his youth, but this? Oh this was hypocrisy. And Laswell was in on some of it? Oh this was blackmail for sure. Ghost got what he wanted.

“Copies, Kyle. We need copies-“

Yes, they all were in on this. This was worth it.

Woke up this morning, did my hygiene routine, got dressed and went to the bathroom to do my eyebrows and eyelashes and saw that I had eye bags.

…

EYE BAGS.

I HAVE BAGS UNDER MY EYES.

…

Time to dropout🤷🏾‍♀️

I think that Nik may have a TOUCH of eczema on his body. Maybe on the backs of his hands or in the crook of his arms and neck.

Either way, it’s a pain in the ass when Summer and Winter roll around and he runs out of his medicated cream because his skin gets all dry and cracks or it flares and he ends up with gashes in those areas from scratching it so much.

Luckily for him, John is always there to help!

He’ll make sure he always has his cream when he can, and if he starts to scratch at those areas he’ll move his hand and rub gently at the spot to soothe it. If Nik manages to scratch a gash however, he’ll run it under cold or warm water. (Nik likes scolding hot water but knows that the other two options are best for him.)

Price waking up in a bad mood one morning and giving Nik the cold shoulder despite his attempts at trying to get the Brit to open up and talk to him(or at least get him out of his funk).

By the end of the week Nik is fed up and one afternoon when Price is in the kitchen with his back turned, Nik comes up behind him and traps him against the counter, hands slowly creeping up his shirt to rest on his toned stomach and then drifting up to mess with two perked nipples, pinching lightly.

Price tried to pry Nik off at first, truly he did, but he soon gave in and now he was bent over the counter getting his attitude guts rearranged while Nik whispered filthy Russian into his ear, a large hairy hand gripping his waist so the captain wouldn’t try to escape the pleasure that was being given to him(and if he was in a better mood the following week, nobody spoke on what got him there).

Nik likes to fuck with Price by putting his hands up the back of his shirt and touching him with his freezing cold hands(this earns him an ass-whooping, but he’ll do it again).

In the back of my mind, John Price thinks he’s the most terrible, most horrible, and most despicable person to ever roam the Earth, and he can’t really pick an explanation as to why he feels this way.

He’s tried talking to a therapist about it, but the session ended within thirty minutes because he got upset(conflicted) with himself and decided that he wasn’t as fragile as he was making himself out to be, because why would a thirty-seven year old Captain of a TaskForce need mental and emotional support? Beats him.

It all comes crashing down when he and Nik get into an argument(as all couples do sometimes) and end up in a shouting match that eventually leads to Nik saying something that triggers a gear in the back of John’s brain, and suddenly the Brit is spewing things back at the Russian with more venom than anticipated.

By the end of it, he notices that Nik has calmed down and is inching towards him slowly, muttering something in Russian that he can’t care to translate. And just as Nik wraps him in a tight embrace, John registers the wetness under his eyes and down his cheeks and is embarrassed because— since when did someone like him cry? When was the last time he cried? Has he ever cried before??

Long story short, Nik makes sure to tell the boys that their Captain won’t be in for a while, he hires a good psychological therapist that can help, and they all get ready to dig deeper into the enigma that is Johnathan Michael Price Jr.

One day after a mission gone terrifyingly wrong, John buries himself in his quarters and drinks away his sorrows, coincidentally having the same bottle his father had before he died as well. The bed was too high and too dangerous for a man in his state, so he moved to the floor and leaned against his bed.

As he leaned, he caught a glance of himself in the discarded beer bottle and nearly threw up at the sight, because staring back at him was his dead father, pale gray eyes looking at his son with disdain and a cold hand gripping his bottle of liquor.

John tried to move away from it, but being two.. no three..- four? bottles and a half smoked cigar in his sulking sesh made that difficult, and he soon fell back and hit his head, his vision spinning as he tried to compose himself.

Suddenly, he hears footsteps coming towards him and sees Nik his father pop into his vision with a scowl.

“Look at you Johnathan. I thought I raised you better than that.” Are you okay?

“What?” Johnathan muttered, brows furrowing as he tried to sit up again.

“Y’know, I was only five bottles in and yet here you are with four. You keep it up and you’ll be just like me.” Hey, take it slow. You are okay, you are safe.

“No I won’,” John slurred, breaths quickening. “Get away from me.”

Nik John Sr. got closer.

“Oh yes you will. As a matter of fact, you already are.” He smiled, teeth rotting and falling one by one. “This role fits you perfectly son. Like a glove. Like father like son.” Captain.

“I’m not like you.” John grumbled, eyes stinging and throat getting tighter.

John.

“I’ll never be like you.”

Johnathan.

“I’ll always be better than you, you good for nothin’ DRUNK!”

“JOHNATHAN!” Nik yelled, large hands cupping John’s face so their eyes could meet. “It’s me. Me, Nikolai. Not your father.”

John goes quiet for a while, staring up at the Russian in front of him with a look of bewilderment and shame, as if he were going to knock him in the head with a belt.

After a bit, his face fell and the stinging in his eyes intensified, to which Nik offered him his chest to shield him from the embarrassment of seeing him cry like a boy.

All could be talked about in the morning. But for now, all that is needed is some silence, a miracle, and some ibuprofen.

Nik’s father always told him to never mix chemicals together because it could be deadly to himself and everyone around him, and God he wishes he’d listened to him instead of getting involved with a certain Captain from a certain TaskForce, because a small issue can lead into something big, and then they argue, and then they drink, and then they have drunken sex, and then they wake up with a headache in the morning.

“I hate you.” John grunts as Nik thrusts wildly in and out of him, brows furrowed and eyes hazy with lust and something dangerously close to spite. “Can never stop sleepin’ around.”

“Would not have to if you made time for me.” Nik responds with a bitter tone, which soon turns into a groan as he feels John clench around his length. “Ебать!”

“You prick. You know that I’ve tried, and when I do-“ He pauses with a whimper, feeling himself nearing his climax. “Y-You’re always-“

Suddenly, John’s body tenses up and he clamps his thighs around Nik as he comes, a filthy moan leaving his lips and strings of his release splattering on his stomach.

Nik doesn’t stop though, no. Instead, he goes harder and faster, overstimulating John’s senses to where he can only babble out “I hate you’s” and “Nik’s”, stars dancing in his vision as his prostate is assaulted over and over again.

“You hate me and yet you always end up here, in my bed beneath me.” Nik grunts as he stares down at John, shifting a bit to piston deeper into the Captain. “Why do you think that is, hm?”

John begins to get louder, eyes flying open and back arching as his body begins to tremble.

“If you hate me so much, why not get rid of me. Ignore me, ship me out to a different base, kill me.” Nik says, and John musters up the best frown he could and looks away. But Nik won’t have that and brackets the man’s head between his arms before leaning down so they could be eye to eye. “Look at me Johnathan. Look at me. Answer the question.”

And as their eyes met, Nik lets out a feral grunt before catching John’s lips in his own, tongues dancing and teeth clashing in the sloppiest way possible with Nik coming inside the Brit, who soon followed.

Soon, Nik pulls away and stares dead into John’s hazy blue eyes, a string of saliva still connecting the two. He then leans down and kisses his neck, working his way up to his ear and kissing the shell of it before grinning.

“Because you can’t.” The Russian says simply, and John can do nothing but let out a whimper as Nik flips him over on his knees and pushes his chest down to the mattress, face buried into the satin pillow case that laid on the bed as Nik began fucking him once more(and if they ended up cuddling right after and holding each other so tight that they could barely breathe, then sue them).