PAIRING: John Price x F!Reader
SUMMARY: You and Price have been keeping your relationship a secret. After a successful mission, the tension between you becomes impossible to ignore.
WARNING(S): smut, age gap, swearing, alcohol, smoking, 18+ content
The worst part about working with John Price was that you learned him too well.
You had known John for almost four years. Four years of missions, long flights, sleepless nights, arguments, close calls and far too many moments where one of you had to trust the other with your life.
You knew the slight change in his voice when a mission went wrong. You knew the look he gave you when he wanted you to stay close. You knew when he was angry, when he was tired and, unfortunately, when he wanted you.
It hadn't always been like this.
When you first joined Task Force 141, John was simply your captain. Professional, demanding and annoyingly observant. You respected him, and he respected you. There was nothing more to it.
At least, that's what you both thought.
It started after one particular mission.
The mission had been brutal. You'd spent hours running on adrenaline, barely getting through it without losing someone. When you finally returned to base, neither of you could sleep. You were both exhausted, restless and still carrying the tension of everything that had happened.
One conversation turned into another.
Then one stupid decision became another.
Neither of you planned for it to happen again.
Eventually, the two of you stopped pretending it was only about needing somewhere to put all that post-mission adrenaline.
Somewhere along the way, John started staying after you'd fallen asleep. You started finding excuses to sit beside him during briefings. His hand would occasionally brush yours when nobody was looking, and sometimes you'd catch him watching you from across the room.
Neither of you ever called it a relationship.
That would've made it real.
And real would've meant that someone could find out.
No flirting during missions.
No obvious looks across the briefing room.
And most importantly, nobody in Task Force 141 could know.
Tonight was supposed to be another successful mission followed by a few drinks and sleep.
Instead, Soap had decided everyone needed to celebrate at the nearest bar.
The place was crowded and loud, filled with music, alcohol and people who had no idea that four members of Task Force 141 were sitting in the corner.
You sat between Gaz and Soap, listening to them argue about something that had happened during the mission.
John sat opposite you with Ghost beside him.
You tried not to look at him.
You failed almost immediately.
John was already looking at you.
You raised your glass slightly.
He only lifted an eyebrow.
You narrowed your eyes at him.
- That's called staring, Captain.
Soap suddenly looked between you and Price.
- What are you two whispering about?
You turned toward him quickly.
John took a calm sip of his drink.
- She's accusing me of staring.
You kicked Gaz lightly underneath the table.
- Price, mate, you've been staring at her all night.
John looked at him with an unimpressed expression.
Ghost finally looked up from his drink.
John slowly turned toward Ghost.
You lowered your head, trying to hide your smile behind your glass.
John's eyes found you again.
This time, there was something warmer in them.
Something that belonged only to you.
The conversation moved on, but John kept finding small reasons to look at you.
When you laughed at something Gaz said, his gaze stayed on you.
When you pushed your hair behind your ear, he noticed.
When you leaned closer to Soap to hear him over the music, John's jaw tightened slightly.
You knew that expression.
- You okay, Price? Gaz asked.
- You look like you want to kill someone.
- That's your enjoying-yourself face?
Ghost muttered something beneath his breath.
John looked directly at you.
- Something funny, sweetheart?
The word hit you harder than it should have.
Your smile disappeared for half a second.
John knew exactly what he'd done.
You looked around quickly.
Nobody seemed to have noticed.
You leaned slightly toward John.
His eyes stayed on yours.
- You almost forgot we're supposed to be pretending.
John's expression softened.
He leaned back in his chair.
- Maybe you're distracting me.
- And yet you're still sitting there.
You wanted to kick him again.
Instead, you smiled into your glass.
The drinks disappeared slowly, the conversation becoming louder and more relaxed. Soap was telling another ridiculous story, Gaz was laughing at him, and even Ghost seemed less irritated than usual.
You were enjoying yourself.
But every time you looked at John, you remembered what happened between you two years ago.
The way you'd both convinced yourselves that it was nothing.
It had been easier when it was nothing.
Now you knew how John took his coffee. You knew which side of the bed he preferred. You knew the sound of his laugh when he was genuinely amused, even though he rarely let it out.
Your phone buzzed on the table.
A message from your mother.
- Everything alright? Gaz asked.
- Yeah. I should probably go soon.
Soap immediately looked offended.
- I have an early morning.
You stood and grabbed your coat.
- Don't do anything stupid.
For a second, you looked at John.
His face was completely neutral.
- I'll try, you answered.
You walked toward the exit.
Not until you were outside.
The cold air hit your face, and you pulled your coat tighter around yourself.
John was probably going to make you wait.
You had barely taken ten steps when the door opened behind you.
You didn't need to turn around.
- I had to make sure nobody followed me.
- He was suspicious tonight.
- He literally said you were staring at me.
John's mouth curved into a small smile.
You stopped walking and looked at him.
- I notice everything about you.
For a moment, neither of you said anything.
John looked down the street before speaking.
- That's what got us into trouble in the first place.
Your expression softened.
His shoulder brushed yours.
Neither of you moved away.
- You remember that night? you asked quietly.
- I remember every second.
- We said it was only because of the mission.
- And apparently had terrible judgment.
John laughed under his breath.
You didn't answer immediately.
Instead, you looked ahead.
His car appeared at the end of the street.
You opened the passenger door.
- Are you taking me home?
John looked at you for a long moment.
He opened the driver's door and got inside.
You climbed into the passenger seat.
The doors closed, cutting off the noise of the street.
For a few seconds, neither of you spoke.
His eyes moved toward you.
A small smile appeared on his lips.
- Nobody from 141 goes there.
John drove away from the bar.
You watched the lights disappear behind you.
After a few minutes, you reached across the center console and placed your hand over his.
His fingers immediately closed around yours.
This was the part nobody knew about.
Nobody knew that the captain who looked so controlled in front of his team had a completely different side when he was alone with you.
Nobody knew that the woman who could walk into a briefing room and argue with him about tactics was the same woman who sometimes fell asleep against his chest.
Nobody knew that somewhere between missions, late nights and one terrible decision, you had stopped being just colleagues.
And maybe that was the most dangerous part.
You didn't know what you were anymore either.
By the time John parked outside his place, your hand was still in his.
He turned off the engine.
- Tomorrow we're going to act like nothing happened.
He looked at you for a long moment.
- Then I'll deal with Soap.
- Still think I'm annoying?
His hand settled gently against your waist.
His eyes dropped to your lips.
- Because I like you difficult.
You rolled your eyes, but you were already smiling.
You leaned closer and kissed him.
This time there was no bar full of teammates, no pretending, no careful glances across the table.
The same secret you'd been keeping for months.
Only now, you were starting to wonder how long you could keep pretending it was only lust.
