This Is So Awesome Sauce

He most definitely did, if not more piercings God knows where.

okay so barry sloane had an eyebrow piercing in the early 2000s… do we think canonically young captain price had one too 👀

(Fugitive)Nikolai needing to lay low somewhere so he wouldn’t get captured and brought to the Gulag so he flees to a small town in England where there are small quaint shops on every corner, and if you were to go down just a little further, there’d be a few neighborhoods with beautiful houses/apartments.

Upon arrival, the soldiers who were looking for him had already gotten there first(much to his dismay), and just as they turned a corner he ducked into a flower shop and behind the counter, not even noticing the man standing there.

The soldiers eventually came in and looked around for a bit before asking the man if he’d seen someone come in matching Nik’s description, and to the Russian’s surprise, he said no and told which shops the men could check because they had “good hiding places”.

As they filed out with a brief ‘thanks’ he waited til’ the were far far away before slowly rising to thank the man properly, stopping upon seeing his beautiful features.

The flower shop worker had brown hair and blue eyes that seemed like they’d look ethereal in the sunlight, even as they looked at him with skepticism. He also had a well kept beard and mustache, trimmed to perfection. He wore a white shirt with brown pants that hugged his body in every way(deliciously), and on top was a beige apron with a name tag that read John.

Nik found himself smitten, cheeks heating up and mouth opening and closing like a fish. That was until the man— sorry— John had grabbed him by the ear and pulled the giant Russian towards him.

“You get me and my shop into any trouble and I’ll cut you like a rose, understand?”

Oh how Nik loved his voice. Loved how deep and rough it was despite having an odd smoothness to it. Like a rose.

He suddenly felt a pair of sharp gardening scissors at his throat and broke out of his daydreams.

“Understand.”

The scissors left his throat(much to his relief).

As John was getting ready to go to another task, Nik looked around himself for a second before turning back to the Brit.

“Uh- where is your nearest.. uh- mini hotel?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your mini hotels.” Nik says again. “Uhm.. like the smaller hotels that are usually on the side of the road?”

It takes John a second before he realizes and stops himself from laughing at the criminal across from him. Hell, he looked as if he’d skin him alive and use him as fish bait.

“You mean a motel?” He asks with a small smirk, continuing to sweep. “It’s a few minutes away from here near the butcher shop and candy store.”

“Ah, a motel, yes.” Nik nods, trying to appear cool and collected as he gathered what little bearings he had before going to the door. “Uh.. thank you..?”

“John, and you?”

“Nikolai.” He replied, his name rolling off his tongue roughly due to nervousness.

“Nikolai.” John says, and Nik damn near falls out at the way his name rolls off the florists tongue(he wondered what it’d sound like when he was being fucked).

After their brief conversation, Nik makes his trek to the motel and gets a room that’s, albeit, a bit nicer than some of the hotels he’s stayed at throughout his years of running.

He lays down for a bit to settle his nerves and goes to shower, thoughts lingering back to the beautiful florist he’d met just minutes prior to coming here and wonders if he could go back to the shop tomorrow to see him again, if he’d even be there.

Shoot, maybe he’d get to know the man. Know his likes and dislikes, what makes him tick, what got him into the gardening business, things of that nature(and maybe more if he’s lucky).

You think price was born with that bear swag or did he have to go through twink death to earn it

That fucker definitely had to earn his bear swag.

Like, I can imagine he enlisted for the army at a young age and didn’t really go through all of what puberty had to offer yet, so he was around 5’7 and all bones. But soon, after going through hell and back with training, people, and sometimes bullying, he bulked/toughened up over the years and eventually turned into the big bear he is today.

…

Sometimes the team will ask to see pictures of him when he was a kid or a teen, but since he doesn’t have many pictures of himself during those times of his life, he just shows them a fresh-faced Sergeant Price standing at attention in his old base’s courtyard(however, if they were to call his old Captain for pictures, they’d get that and videos of Sergeant Price up to his no good shenanigans).

…

🚶🏾‍♀️

It's been hours since the mission had gone rogue.

Hours since Price saw the rest of his team.

Hours since he heard Nik's voice lose control over the intercom, hours since he heard the choking of blood over his intercom.

The room was cold. The chair he was sitting on was poking into his skin. Price could feel the water dripping down his back, making it hard to dissociate. Not that he could anyways. The rope was digging into his skin, and the wound in his thigh would only render him useless if he decided to run.

The room was spinning from the blood loss, and he had nothing within reach to defend himself. And he couldn't see much without the lights, just vague shapes and figures, nothing to access the danger levels by.

They stripped him down hours ago, leaving only underwear to cover his bits. He had watched as the men forced Simon on the ground, tearing the mask off of him, if just for the ability to humiliate the great 'Ghost' by stripping down the only thing that protected him and his identity.

He didn't know where Gaz was, nor Soap or Simon. The last he heard of them were horrified screams from Simon after a bang.

He desperately hopes none of his team is dead.

The gods above him seem to disagree with him.

A few more hours of waiting, and a click. The room instantly filling with light. It blinded him, if anything. Though seeing the room he was in filled with medical supplies did nothing to calm his nerves. A voice flooded the intercom above him as a face too familiar was pushed into the room across from him.

"Mr Price, I must admit. Your team was... Most definitely trained, no? Like dogs on a leash."

Oh.

Oh.

His sweet beautiful Nik. Reduced to something sub human from torture. How did he end up looking like that?

He wants to reach out across the room, to hold the ruined body of his loved one close.

He could tell Nik was still alive, if the way he was still shouting slurs to the men was anything to go by.

But he looks so, so much worse. His hair was shaved off, a large ugly stamp on his head. Labeling him with a number rather than his name. Price noted that Nik too, was naked, though any relief from shared shame was replaced by the horror from the marks decorating Nik's body.

His body, covered in lashes and blisters. His fingernails were bloodied and worn out. Price could see Nik stumbling in the room, the wound on his knees made Price gagged.

Price wasn't too sure how Nik had survived all that and was still faring, still cursing and spitting on one of his captors foot as he watched across from him.

He watched as the men buckled Nik down, strapping him into a chair similar to his as they both stared at each other's.

And suddenly, any rage or disgust in Nik's eyes softened into something human, something akin to adoration, to love.

Although love might have just cost Nik his whole bloody world.

Because the men above saw this, took notice of this, saw how Nik calmed down upon seeing Price (mostly) unharmed.

It's been several hours, or days. Price really couldn't tell, fading in and out of consciousness before buckets of icy cold water were tossed on him.

He's been dehumanised, degraded, destroyed over and over again, before molded back into something vaguely human shaped by the hands of his captors.

He couldn't tell what was happening, not the time, not the place, not the faces in front of him.

All he really could make out was Nik's constant look of horror whenever he looked over to him, his face twisted into something akin to agony.

Price can't tell how he felt.

He felt numb, if anything.

The constant pain from being dehumanised was almost impossible to handle.

He knew he was covered in his own vomit, or blood. Or something that was human in nature. Perhaps shit. Perhaps pee. He can't tell.

He knew he stink, and that was it.

He knew the times when the men would leave him alone, giving him some moment to regain himself before dumping hot water on his back, worsening the wounds already there.

Price couldn't tell what the men wanted. Because they seemed to be torturing him for the fun of it. For the ability to see him crumble down like ash in their hands.

Despair was the only thing he could make out, the feeling of losing himself amidst the pain and tears. The feeling of hopelessness as he finally tore into the rotten raw meat in front of him.

He'd shared rooms with rats, with cockroaches, with bugs that nip at him any chance they got.

And what's worse, at some point, he stopped taking notice of Nik across from him.

Nik could only watch as he sees Price gets tortured in ways he had only dreamt of. A lash there, a little waterboarding there, a bit of isolation, and a little testing of drugs, along with the rodents in his room.

He watches as Price stares at him, helplessly as the bastards pump him full of something, and watches as Price wakes up, crying and sobbing before suddenly laughing manically, banging himself on the shit stained walls.

Nik watches as Price was made to eat something flesh like, raw meat. Before being told it was a rat from the sewers.

Nik who could only watch as his love turned into something...disturbing, something inhuman, something that's more animal than man at this point.

Nik who had to watch on, as Price loses himself.

Rage and fury gave way to desperate screams for them to stop, to do whatever they wanted to him instead.

However, the gods above are nothing but cruel and vile creatures, creatures who must have created the human race just to laugh at them, given them emotions and hopes and dreams just for shits and giggles.

Because Price hadn't moved for over a day since the last time they forced moldy bread down his throat.

This is just.. *chef’s kiss*🤌🏾🤌🏾

messing around with simon's face again...

A short tibbit since it’s 2 in the morning and I can’t sleep, but I think Price and Nik take snow days as a day to relax and be around each other, whether they be on base or at home.

On base, Nik will come into Price’s office with some tea and his favorite snacks, and they’ll sit together and talk or just bask in each other’s presence.

At home, they’re in their cozy pj’s and they’re on the couch watching something. Or maybe they’re reading books to each other while the heat creates a soothing warmth that makes Price melt into Nik’s side and makes Nik bend to accommodate Price in a comforting way.

Point is, they both like being warm in the Winter, but having each other beside them is even better.

I think that Price has an unhealthy addiction to any sorting or organizing game.

When he first got a phone he didn’t really use it much because— what’s it good for except making calls and texting when needed, or reading the weather? But when he sees an ad for a game called Nuts Sort.. it was over from there.

Nik didn’t really mind when he saw his husband first playing it. In fact, he was happy that John was using his phone for something other than mundanity. But when he begins to play it in the middle of sleepless nights or when Nik’s trying to serenade him, the Russian begins to grow irritated because now that “stupid granny game”(as he’d call it) was taking up his love’s time and attention.

So.. if the game so happens to disappear from his phone the next day and Nik fucks him feverishly over their dresser to help him forget about the game forever then.. ah, who gives a shit right?

Price is a plant guy and nobody can change my mind. He probably has all sorts of plants, and not flowers or anything, but succulents and stuff, and damn if they aren’t the healthiest plants you’ve ever seen. I think he’d even have names for them, like Ronald or Mite.

His biggest mistake was letting Nik name one of them though, because now he’s got a Venus Flytrap named Pest Controller 3000 and is reminded of that name whenever he goes to feed it a fly.

As much as Nikolai loves himself a feral, bossy John, he also loves to see the more domesticated John too. The John that doesn’t stay up doing paperwork til’ Christmas or check over his shoulder every now and again because, frankly, anything could happen. The John that checks on everyone ten times a day to make sure they’re alright and that they’ve eaten a filling meal even though he’s had two sticks of gum and three whole pots of coffee.

When they’re at John’s or his(many) flats, he loves to watch a softer, more rounded version of his husband patter around doing simple tasks like laundry or going to get the paper. He loves watching him read a long, boring novel while smoking a cigar(even as mundane as it is). He loves these kinds of things because he knows that his husband is at peace. And the fact that he knows he can have it whenever Nik is around makes it tens times sweeter.

It’s around 6 when Nikolai gets back to his cabin from hunting, setting his boots down by the front door and calling out to his husband, John, who was in the living room watching TV.

Getting no response, Nik just chuckles and sheds his coat before walking into the living room and bending over the couch to kiss the side John’s temple, cold skin meeting his lips.

“You are freezing my love.” He says softly, grabbing a blanket and draping it over his chest. “It is below thirty degrees. You should wrap up.”

Still getting no response, Nik just huffs softly before going to shower and changing into something more comfortable, stopping by the kitchen on his way back to the living room to grab some tea for the two of them.

“Your favorite.” He says quietly, setting the mug down in John’s stiff hands and settling beside him. “Do not drink too fast, it is fresh from kettle.”

Still, no response.

Nik glances at his husband with a soft expression, noticing the bags under his eyes and the slight sluggishness to his posture.

“You are sleepy.” He says, and John’s body slumps over onto Nik’s, causing him to laugh. “You need rest dear.”

Just as he said that, John’s phone lit up even more missed calls and unread messages from his team, Laswell, and MacMillan, to which Nik just frowned and turned it over, muttering something about how they ‘always interrupt them’ and how they should ‘leave them alone’.

Soon, Nik gets sleepy too and rests his head atop John’s, not minding the sticky wet feeling on his cheek as he wrapped a big arm around his husband’s back, pulling him closer to his chest.

“Sleep well my love.” He muttered, pressing a kiss to John’s cold forehead before turning off the missing person’s report on the TV and going to sleep.