That... wasn't supposed to go off...

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📄 Prologue

Captain John Price had finally given in.

After months—hell, years—of brushing off his team's relentless ribbing, snide comments, and downright campaign to get him laid before retirement, he'd relented. Not because he was desperate, and certainly not because he thought they were right—but because... maybe he was tired of arguing. Maybe the jokes were starting to hit a little too close to home.

They’d all said it in their own way—Gaz with casual concern, Ghost with bone-dry sarcasm, and Soap the loudest of all, shouting it across briefing rooms and pub booths alike:

"You're not getting any younger, Captain. Time to find someone to warm your bones before they creak for good."

He’d grunted. Rolled his eyes. Gave them that look that said drop it or die. But behind the gruff exterior, there was a sliver of truth he couldn’t shake. The kind that crept in at night, when the missions were done, the house was quiet, and the only voice left was his own—and even that one was getting tired.

He wasn’t made for this era’s brand of romance. Everything felt too fast, too curated, too hollow. Price was built for the long haul—for letters written during deployment, for hard-earned trust and loyalty that didn’t come with a bio and a swipe. He still typed like the keyboard owed him money, didn’t trust autocorrect, and half-believed his phone was reporting back to MI6.

But that night, after his fourth cup of black tea and one too many lingering glances at the empty side of the bed... he caved.

Just to look.

Just to see what was out there.

And maybe—just maybe—because part of him wanted someone to come home to before the war stories ran out.

He downloaded one.

And then promptly forgot to log out.

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🏷 Tags:

Young user (18-20), Unestablished relationship, Bisexual char
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© 661ave on Patreon for the render.