#cod nik

the idea of free use was always appealing - considering you were always horny (and if you weren't already, you always would be within a second of him touching you), he was always all over you, whether it be his hands, lips or more. so he suggested something: free use. you pretty much beamed when he suggested it. he was surprised by how quickly and eagerly you agreed to it, but who was he to say no? so you got together and had a long talk, set up boundaries, rules, do's and don'ts and it quickly became your new normal.

bending you over the dresser first thing in the morning to get rid of his morning wood.

having you bounce on his dick at the breakfast table while he had his coffee and read the news.

groping you all over the second you get out of the shower.

shoving fingers inside you while you were trying to do chores.

having you suck his dick while he did some paperwork in his office.

cockwarming him while eating dinner together.

having him get down on his knees behind you and sticking his head under your skirt while you did the dishes.

all down to a sleepy cuddlefuck when you go to bed together.

its heaven, really. but its not enough. not for nikolai anyway.

he kept going with rules like 'always wear skirt or dresses around me' or 'no more panties around the house'. you happily oblige, because god, why wouldn't you? this hunk of a man was fucking you seven ways to Sunday, who in their right mind would complain about this?

but it's still not enough. he's let the primal, stupid animal inside him wake up and now its growling for more. whenever the two of you go out for groceries, hang out with friends, go out on dates, he had to restrain himself from just taking what he wants. sure, he fucked you out in the car afterwards every time without fail, but its not enough. pining you down under his weight in the backseat of his SUV and hearing you yelp and gasp for breath between hoarse, pathetic begging was never enough.

it starts with him feeling you up while hes on the phone to Laswell. waving you over and copping a feel of your ass while talking about an upcoming OP. it takes you by surprise, but you don't mind it - Kate didn't see and surely didn't hear the way you gasp at the fingers digging into your fat.

it got a little further when he decided to call you into his office while on a face time call - some other high ranks or whatever, you tend to not listen when you overhear whatever they're talking about - and gestures for you to stand behind the cam and pull your shirt up for him.

it goes even even further when John is visiting the two of you. sitting on the couch across from Nikolai, not even batting an eye when he calls you over and makes you bend over his lap. your face heats up and you quietly ask what he's doing, but you don't get an answer. what you do get is 2 of Nik's fingers plunged deep into your cunt without warning, making you see starts as he starts to curl them. your mouth falls open and your eyes widen, a fleeting, embarrassed gaze at John, but he just raises an eyebrow and smirks. Nikolai grunts, something about your underwear, something about manners, something that will get you spanked later, but you can barely listen as you try to process.. this. but you can't. you simply can't. you're bent over your boyfriend's lap, having your hole fingered open while his best friend watches - and you swear you've never been this wet. a bit of shame mixes in with the pleasure and shock, but the feeling is so overwhelming that you just let it happen - you can talk later, after you've came your brains out in front of Price.

but you don't talk about it. you don't mention it and neither does he - and it makes him bold. makes him think he can do whatever he wants with you.

and he can. unfortunately. bastard.

you realise this pretty quick after the little incident. he doesn't bother to keep quiet when you jerk him off on call. he doesn't bother to make sure your bobbing head is out of the shot while facetiming business partners. doesn't bother to make sure no one hears your slutty moans when he bends you over in your friend's bathroom. and no one bats an eye.

not even when he told you to to cockwarm him in front of the whole 141.

"Get in my lap, malyshka. c'mon, no need to be shy now. they're our friends, they can see how good of a toy you are." and you do, for some God forsaken reason. you pull your pants down as you stare at him, just enough so he has space to pick a hole and make you sink down on his soft cock. that's how casual it is to him, he's not even hard. and the others just watch, continuing their conversation. of course he told them about beforehand, they're not surprised - but he's determined to take it even further.

he keeps it up, slowly establishing you as his cocksleeve, his fleshlight, his toy; around his friends. has you walking around topless when at home, no matter if the blinds are open, no matter who's around. doesnt care to be subtle about slipping his fingers under your skirt during game night with your friends, pulls you onto his cock during movie night. its so casual within just weeks of him doing this, his friends dont mind the loud moans, the high pitched squeals, the wet squelching sounds your loose holes make.

but its not enough. it's never enough, why stop when no one stops him? he wants - has to see how far you will let him go. how far others will let him go. so he does.

he starts bringing you to base - just keeping you around at first, the occasional slap on your ass in front of people, but nothing wild. that's the first few days at least, before he brings the no underwear rule to work. along with the skirt and dresses only rule. has you standing by his office chair, hand under your skirt, pumping into your asshole slowly while some Sergeant delivers files to him. watches you tremble and shake, opening his mouth to speak, but Nikolai speaks first.

"just my toy. don't mind her."

its what he tells everyone. its what he tells the private who walks in on you kneeling under Nikolais desk.

it's what he tells the medical that walks in on nikolai playing with your tits and torturing your poor little nipples.

its what he tells the Lieutenant that catches you pathetically rubbing your pussy against Nikolais boot.

it's what he tells the group of privates that he's spanking you in front of as you beg for his forgiveness, showcasing what happens if someone misbehaves.

its even what he tells the General, that walks in on you bent over the desk, tits squished flat against it, mouth wide open with fat crocodile tears streaming down your cheeks while Nikolai bullies your cervix with his fat tip.

Nik sighed. “You’ve said that three times now. You weren’t fine when you tried to argue with me about takin’ your clothes off, and you’re not fine now.”

John grumbled something unintelligible and sank deeper into the cushions.

Shaking his head, Nik left the living room and headed to their kitchen. It wasn’t the first time that John had pushed himself too hard, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last which made his partner’s gut twist up in worry.

But Nik knew exactly how to handle him—grumpy disposition and all.

The familiar sound of chopping vegetables and the soft clatter of pots filled the house. Nik moved with practiced ease, humming to himself as he worked. John pretended not to care, but the smell of onions, garlic, and herbs slowly lured him out of his sulk.

By the time Nik returned with a steaming bowl of soup, his liver was sitting up, though still looking like he’d lost a fight with his fever.

“‘Ere,” Nik said, handing him the bowl with a knowing smirk. “Eat.”

John stared at the soup, then up at Nik, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a line. “You didn’t have to go through all tha’ trouble.”

Nik raised a knowing brow and crossed his arms. “I didn’t marry you just to let you starve when you’re sick, lyubov.”

Grumbling under his breath, John picked up the spoon and took a hesitant sip. The warmth spread through him immediately, the savory broth and tender vegetables soothing his sore throat. He hated how good it was—mostly because it meant Nik was right.

“You’re makin’ it impossible to stay mad at you.” He mumbled between bites.

Nik leaned down, brushing a kiss to his husband’s forehead. “Good. Now finish that and drink some water, or I’ll make you take medicine next.”

John scowled, but the faint smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. He didn’t mind being taken care of—not when it was Nik.

“You’re too stubborn for your own damn good.”

That earns a chuckle from John, he raises his hand and wipes the sweat from his brow.

After waiting next to the couch for an hour just to make sure John was lucid enough, Nik made John waddle up stairs—which took at least five minutes— and lay down in their shared bed.

“Put ya hand down ya idiot,” His husband says. Wringing a cold compress into a bowl on their nightstand, and placing it on John’s forehead.

Partner, lover, husband.

John never thought he’d find himself thinking, saying, those words. Before, the words had felt foreign on his tongue, icy like the snow topped mountains in Siberia.

“You were right.” John croaks out. The bed dips where Nik sits down with a hand on John’s thigh.

“About what? M’right about a lotta things, gotta be more specific.” He says with a smile.

John opens his mouth to answer but his words escape him as a cough instead. He turns his head away from Nik as he does. When he turns back, he sighs and his eyes are blown, unfocused. “Tha’ Siberia woulda gotten me sick.”

Nik huffs at that, patting the hard, soft flesh of his lovers hand sitting at his thigh. “You need to listen to me more. Might learn a few things.”

John lets out a weak laugh, his voice still hoarse from the strain of his cough. “Listening to you, Nik, is what got me up in those mountains in the first place.”

Nik smirks, leaning back slightly, though his hand remains firm on John’s thigh, grounding him. “Ah, but if you didn’t, you’d be bored out of your damn mind, wouldn’t you?”

John tilts his head, eyes narrowing as if to challenge the statement, but the corners of his lips twitch upward despite himself. “Maybe,” He concedes, his tone light and teasing. “Still, I don’t recall you warning me about how bloody cold it’d be.”

Nik laughs at that—a full, deep sound that seems to warm the room more than any blanket could. “I warned you, stubborn bastard. You just refused to listen, like always.”

The banter feels easy, familiar, like the rhythm of an old song. Nik adjusts the compress on John’s forehead, his expression softening. “Rest now, John,” He says, his voice quieter, more insistent. “I’ve got you.”

John’s eyelids grow heavier as the warmth of Nik’s presence lulls him into something close to peace. “Yeah,” He murmurs, his voice barely audible as he slips into sleep. “I know you do.”

For a while, the room is silent save for John’s steady breathing. Nik sits there, watching over him, his own thoughts far away but anchored by the sight of his husband at rest.

He stays where he is, his hand lingering on John, his thumb idly brushing over the fabric of the blanket. The quiet of the room settles over him like a heavy quilt, but he doesn’t move—not yet. He knows better than to leave, even for a moment. John’s restless sleep has a habit of pulling him back into old battles, his body tensing, his breaths coming shallow and quick as if he’s still out there in the cold, fighting ghosts.

It’s not long before John stirs, his brow furrowing as a low, involuntary sound escapes him. Nik leans forward, his voice gentle. “Easy, lyubov’ moya,” He murmurs, the Russian slipping from his tongue effortlessly. “You’re safe.”

John’s breathing evens out again at the sound of Nik’s voice, and Nik exhales a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. It’s always like this—an unspoken battle fought in the quiet moments, one where Nik’s only weapon is his steady presence. He wonders if John knows how much he gives away in these unguarded moments, how much of his strength is tied to trust.

Nik shifts slightly, reaching for the glass of water on the nightstand. He tilts it toward John, pressing the rim lightly against his lips. “Drink,” he coaxes softly. “You’ll feel better.”

John groans but doesn’t resist, taking a few sips before sinking back into the pillows. His eyes crack open, barely focused, but there’s something there—a flicker of gratitude, of recognition. “Nik . . .”

“Shh,” Nik interrupts, placing the glass back on the nightstand. “Don’t talk. Just rest.”

But John’s lips twitch in that stubborn way they always do. “Didn’t think I’d . . . need you like this,” He admits, his voice raspy. “Thought I was the strong one.”

Nik snorts, shaking his head. “You’re strong, John,” He says, his voice firm but kind. “But even the strongest men need someone to hold them up. ‘S what I’m here for.”

John doesn’t respond right away, his eyes slipping closed again. For a moment, Nik thinks he’s drifted off, but then a quiet, almost imperceptible whisper reaches his ears: “Love you.”

Nik’s throat tightens, and he doesn’t bother hiding the soft smile that spreads across his face. “I know,” He whispers back, his hand returning to rest gently on John’s. “I love you too.”

And as the night deepens, Nik stays right there, a sentinel by John’s side, ensuring that the past remains where it belongs—far away, outside the walls of their shared sanctuary.

The hours stretch long, but Nik doesn’t mind. His body is accustomed to waiting, to watching, to guarding something—or someone—he holds dear. The dim light of the bedside lamp casts soft shadows across the room, illuminating the lines of John’s face, softened now by sleep. His breathing is slow and even, a far cry from the earlier ragged coughs that had racked his chest.

Hours pass, Nik shifted from his seated place an hour or two ago to lay beside his sickly husband, not caring if he’d catch his fever.

He shifts slightly, careful not to disturb his partner sleeping soundly beside him, and lets his mind wander. The weight of their shared history sits with him, not heavy, but present—like an old friend who’s overstayed their welcome. Siberia, Afghanistan, countless other places that have carved lines into their skin and etched stories into their souls.

He glances at John again. There’s something grounding about seeing him like this—vulnerable, unguarded, human. It’s a stark contrast to the commanding figure Nik first met all those years ago, barking orders with a cigar hanging lazily from his lips. Back then, John Price had seemed untouchable, invincible.

But here, now, he’s just John.

Nik’s lips twitch at the memory. He reaches for the blanket and pulls it up higher over John’s chest. “You’ve always been a pain in my ass, you know that?” He mutters quietly, not expecting an answer.

But a low, gravelly voice responds, startling him. “You love it.”

Nik jerks back slightly, leaning back on his elbow to see John’s face. “Thought you were asleep.”

John cracks one eye open, a smirk pulling at his lips despite the pallor in his face. “Hard to sleep with you muttering to yourself over there.”

Nik huffs, leaning back into the bed. “Go back to sleep, idiot. You’re not out of the woods yet.”

John’s smirk softens into something more genuine, his gaze holding Nik’s for a moment longer than usual. “I mean it, love,” He says, his voice quieter now, serious. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Nik swallows hard, the words settling into a place he doesn’t often let himself acknowledge. “Good thing you don’t have to find out,” He replies, his tone gruff but warm.

John hums in agreement, his eyelids already growing heavy again. “Stay,” He murmurs, the single word holding more weight than it has any right to.

“Always,” Nik says softly, watching as John drifts back into sleep.

The night stretches on, but Nik stays where he is, unwavering. Whatever battles John fights in his dreams, whatever demons haunt him, Nik will be there—his silent promise, unbroken.