Nikolai and Price are not big into public displays of affection.
Maybe itâs just leftover from the time when they were younger, but when they go out to a pub or dinner the most youâll see is them pressing their knees or thighs together. When walking they will be close, always bumping shoulders, but rarely holding hand. When the night is purposefully more romantic, theyâll hold hands or theyâll link pinkies.
It took a long time before the two were even comfortable to show affection in front of the 141. It started out with the lingering touches. Then moved to chaste kisses. Now Nik and Price (mostly Nik, heâll fully grope the Captain in front of his men) are more comfortable showing affection around the people they care about.
When theyâre in private, however, they are like horny teens.
nik being extremely giddy when price gets promoted to captain; heâs happier than he is, both bc heâs proud of him but also because they genuinely didnât think it would happen with the number of reprimands on his record and he finds it hilarious that the brass couldnât stop his promotion
price making it to lieutenant was a miracle even under macmillan because of his sheer insubordination and how little he gave a shit about proprietary; if he thought an order was bullshit, heâd say so. if he thought a plan was dumb, he was tearing it apart and implementing his own regardless of who was running the op. if he wanted to pivot in the middle of an op, you better keep the hell up because heâs not waiting around for you. if someone spits some bullshit at him, heâs making his fist an acquaintance with their teeth
the ranks above him hate him, the ranks below him think heâs nuts, and they all agree him being in charge of his own men without any oversight is a bad fucking idea. and yet he pulls so many saves out of his ass they canât keep stymying his career if they donât want to be investigated for discrimination
nik doesnât stop laughing from the time price tells him about the promotion, throughout the entire ceremony watching the bars get placed on his chest, and deep into his cups when they spend the rest of the night celebrating; vodka making his lips shiny as he grins wide, the glass resting on his belly, both shaking nonstop with his laughter, only pausing when he takes a deep pull with an incredulous shake of his head (and maybe thereâs more than one reason price canât stop looking than just being worried heâll spill his drink)
itâs just too ridiculous that the spitfire, batshit corporal he met all those years ago is now a captain
he makes sure to call him by rank as often as he can get away with; almost always accompanied by a halfheartedly suppressed chuckle when it makes price scoff, completely done with an almost decade old joke
small drabble about something @pricegotmedickmatized and I talked about that refused to leave my brain
cw: implied age gap, free use, voyeurism, mild humiliation, fingering, oral, objectification, talk about boot humping; spanking; anal, porn without plot, fem!afab!reader
Nikolai was always a fan of PDA. whether it's holding your hand, slinging an arm around you, kissing your cheek to get you all flustered or smacking your ass to show some asshole who was staring at you a bit too much who you belong to, slipping fingers up your skirt to tease you; anything he can get away with in public. he can't keep his hands off of you - and why would he? you're his sweetheart, his sunshine, his favourite toy. if it wasn't for social norms he'd constantly be inside you, some way or another. but he can't, obviously. can't just bend you over in public and have his way with you, even if that's his absolute dream: having you anywhere, any way he wants.
this is how this whole thing started.
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.
I donât think you can casually mention that you want anything around Nik. He has resources and too much money. You see a cute video of some exotic animal that you should in no way be able to have, and now suddenly you have a private enclosure with at least 3 of them, so they donât have to be lonely.
đđ â in which, John gets sick after a mission in Siberia, never been one for the cold, that one. Good thing he has a sweetheart for a lover.
JOHN PRICE x NIKOLAI wtv the frerreeak his last name is angst â but if you blink, its gone â w comfort. john trying to be stubborn, nik being an idiot in love. 2.4k. â loved this ( my first cxc fic !!! ) â requested
âJohn, youâre burninâ up,â Nik muttered, one hand on Johnâs forehead and the other firmly planted on his hip.
ââM fine,â John croaked, his voice betraying him with every syllable. He was wrapped in their old, oversized knit blanket, slouched on the couch like a grumpy bear hibernating in the wrong season. His nose was red, his cheeks flushed from the fever, and his thick brows furrowed in irritation.
Nik sighed. âYouâve said that three times now. You werenât fine when you tried to argue with me about takinâ your clothes off, and youâre not fine now.â
John grumbled something unintelligible and sank deeper into the cushions.
Shaking his head, Nik left the living room and headed to their kitchen. It wasnât the first time that John had pushed himself too hard, and it certainly wouldnât be the last which made his partnerâs gut twist up in worry.
But Nik knew exactly how to handle himâgrumpy 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 heâd lost a fight with his fever.
ââEre,â Nik said, handing him the bowl with a knowing smirk. âEat.â
John stared at the soup, then up at Nik, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a line. âYou didnât have to go through all thaâ trouble.â
Nik raised a knowing brow and crossed his arms. âI didnât marry you just to let you starve when youâre sick, lyubov.â
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 wasâmostly because it meant Nik was right.
âYouâre makinâ it impossible to stay mad at you.â He mumbled between bites.
Nik leaned down, brushing a kiss to his husbandâs forehead. âGood. Now finish that and drink some water, or Iâll make you take medicine next.â
John scowled, but the faint smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. He didnât mind being taken care ofânot when it was Nik.
âYouâre too stubborn for your own damn good.â
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 stairsâwhich took at least five minutesâ and lay down in their shared bed.
âPut ya hand down ya idiot,â His husband says. Wringing a cold compress into a bowl on their nightstand, and placing it on Johnâs forehead.
Partner, lover, husband.
John never thought heâd find himself thinking, saying, those words. Before, the words had felt foreign on his tongue, icy like the snow topped mountains in Siberia.
âYou were right.â John croaks out. The bed dips where Nik sits down with a hand on Johnâs thigh.
âAbout what? Mâright about a lotta things, gotta be more specific.â 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. âThaâ Siberia woulda gotten me sick.â
Nik huffs at that, patting the hard, soft flesh of his lovers hand sitting at his thigh. âYou need to listen to me more. Might learn a few things.â
John lets out a weak laugh, his voice still hoarse from the strain of his cough. âListening to you, Nik, is what got me up in those mountains in the first place.â
Nik smirks, leaning back slightly, though his hand remains firm on Johnâs thigh, grounding him. âAh, but if you didnât, youâd be bored out of your damn mind, wouldnât you?â
John tilts his head, eyes narrowing as if to challenge the statement, but the corners of his lips twitch upward despite himself. âMaybe,â He concedes, his tone light and teasing. âStill, I donât recall you warning me about how bloody cold itâd be.â
Nik laughs at thatâa full, deep sound that seems to warm the room more than any blanket could. âI warned you, stubborn bastard. You just refused to listen, like always.â
The banter feels easy, familiar, like the rhythm of an old song. Nik adjusts the compress on Johnâs forehead, his expression softening. âRest now, John,â He says, his voice quieter, more insistent. âIâve got you.â
Johnâs eyelids grow heavier as the warmth of Nikâs presence lulls him into something close to peace. âYeah,â He murmurs, his voice barely audible as he slips into sleep. âI know you do.â
For a while, the room is silent save for Johnâs 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 doesnât moveânot yet. He knows better than to leave, even for a moment. Johnâs restless sleep has a habit of pulling him back into old battles, his body tensing, his breaths coming shallow and quick as if heâs still out there in the cold, fighting ghosts.
Itâs not long before John stirs, his brow furrowing as a low, involuntary sound escapes him. Nik leans forward, his voice gentle. âEasy, lyubovâ moya,â He murmurs, the Russian slipping from his tongue effortlessly. âYouâre safe.â
Johnâs breathing evens out again at the sound of Nikâs voice, and Nik exhales a breath he hadnât realized he was holding. Itâs always like thisâan unspoken battle fought in the quiet moments, one where Nikâs 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. âDrink,â he coaxes softly. âYouâll feel better.â
John groans but doesnât resist, taking a few sips before sinking back into the pillows. His eyes crack open, barely focused, but thereâs something thereâa flicker of gratitude, of recognition. âNik . . .â
âShh,â Nik interrupts, placing the glass back on the nightstand. âDonât talk. Just rest.â
But Johnâs lips twitch in that stubborn way they always do. âDidnât think Iâd . . . need you like this,â He admits, his voice raspy. âThought I was the strong one.â
Nik snorts, shaking his head. âYouâre strong, John,â He says, his voice firm but kind. âBut even the strongest men need someone to hold them up. âS what Iâm here for.â
John doesnât respond right away, his eyes slipping closed again. For a moment, Nik thinks heâs drifted off, but then a quiet, almost imperceptible whisper reaches his ears: âLove you.â
Nikâs throat tightens, and he doesnât bother hiding the soft smile that spreads across his face. âI know,â He whispers back, his hand returning to rest gently on Johnâs. âI love you too.â
And as the night deepens, Nik stays right there, a sentinel by Johnâs side, ensuring that the past remains where it belongsâfar away, outside the walls of their shared sanctuary.
The hours stretch long, but Nik doesnât mind. His body is accustomed to waiting, to watching, to guarding somethingâor someoneâhe holds dear. The dim light of the bedside lamp casts soft shadows across the room, illuminating the lines of Johnâs 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 heâd 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 presentâlike an old friend whoâs 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. Thereâs something grounding about seeing him like thisâvulnerable, unguarded, human. Itâs 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, heâs just John.
Nikâs lips twitch at the memory. He reaches for the blanket and pulls it up higher over Johnâs chest. âYouâve always been a pain in my ass, you know that?â He mutters quietly, not expecting an answer.
But a low, gravelly voice responds, startling him. âYou love it.â
Nik jerks back slightly, leaning back on his elbow to see Johnâs face. âThought you were asleep.â
John cracks one eye open, a smirk pulling at his lips despite the pallor in his face. âHard to sleep with you muttering to yourself over there.â
Nik huffs, leaning back into the bed. âGo back to sleep, idiot. Youâre not out of the woods yet.â
Johnâs smirk softens into something more genuine, his gaze holding Nikâs for a moment longer than usual. âI mean it, love,â He says, his voice quieter now, serious. âDonât know what Iâd do without you.â
Nik swallows hard, the words settling into a place he doesnât often let himself acknowledge. âGood thing you donât have to find out,â He replies, his tone gruff but warm.
John hums in agreement, his eyelids already growing heavy again. âStay,â He murmurs, the single word holding more weight than it has any right to.
âAlways,â 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 thereâhis silent promise, unbroken.
Nikolai and Price settled in bed for the night, with Nik softly reading whatever book he'd grabbed for the night. Price doesn't know the plot, it's never mattered. What does matter though, is hearing his partner delicately read him to sleep, as if he's something to be cherished and loved. As if his hands aren't stained with blood and death.
