Imagining A 15 Year Old John Price Coming Home From School And Seeing His Father Passed Out On The Floor

If Price were an insect, I’d think he’d be a moth of some sort. Like, the fluffy ones with the big fluffy bodies and the large wings and huge eyes that you can stare into. And he’d snuggle up close to the stem of a succulent plant and sleep there because it has good shade.

If Nik were an insect, I think he’d be a big ass beetle. And not the ones with the round bodies and round heads, but the ones with the horns on their faces and spikes shooting from their torsos, and the semi-long legs that can’t quite move as fast but will get there with enough wrath and mischief. He’d snuggle beside a fluffymoth!Price, right under a huge fluffy wing, and go to sleep in the pot of that weird succulent plant.

I don’t think people talk about how magical snow is. Like, yeah it’s cold outside and it makes you want to hop into the nearest pit of fire, but just looking out at the scenery around you is just so.. unreal.

Spring is cool, Summer is.. alright, and Fall is great and all, but none of those amount to beauty that Winter has, and I’ll sit and die on that hill.

I think a few teeth rotted away with this one👏🏾

Price washes Niks hair. That's it pfft.

Theres more under the cut!!

cw: literally none this is sickeningly sweet

The bathroom was warm, steam clinging to the mirror and softening the edges of the small space. Price adjusted the shower-head, the gentle hiss of water filling the quiet. He tested the temperature with his fingers, warm but not scalding, before glancing down at Nik.

Nik sat on the floor, his back pressed against the cool porcelain of the tub. His injured arm was cradled in a sling, the tight bandages beneath his shirt peeking out at the edges. Price had straddled his thighs, his knees bracketing Nik’s hips as he leaned forward to work.

Nik shifted slightly, his good hand resting loosely on Price’s knee, his thumb absently brushing the soft fabric of Price’s sweatpants. His hair had become quite long now, reaching just above his shoulders, framing his face in loose , dark waves that caught faintly in the warm light overhead. Price could tell it was a tangled mess, he was determined to fix it.

“This alright?” Price asked as he folded a towel with deliberate care and tucked it behind Nik’s neck. The softness of the fabric was a small contrast to the firm edge of the tub.

Nik blinked up at him, his good hand flexing slightly in his lap, then looked away, a faint flush creeping up his neck. “Yes,” he muttered.

Price frowned, leaning in a little closer, his hands braced lightly on Nik’s chest for balance. “What’s that look for?”

“Nothing,” Nik said quickly, waving vaguely with his free hand. “Just… your fussing.”

Price snorted softly, the sound blending with the rhythmic drip of water into the tub, but he didn’t press. Instead, he adjusted his posture, settling into a more comfortable crouch. The warmth of his legs against Nik’s made the latter shift slightly, though his good hand didn’t leave Price’s knee.

“Right, let’s get this sorted,” Price said, reaching for the shower-head. “You’ve been wandering around all week with your hair looking like a bird’s nest, haven’t you? Can’t have that now that I’m back, can we?”

Nik chuckled, his voice low and rough, though his face was still turned slightly to the side. “Are you saying I look unkempt?”

“I’m saying you’ve been looking like you’ve been dragged backwards through a hedge, love,” Price replied, grinning as he tilted the shower-head. The water streamed in soft rivulets, soaking Nik’s hair. Price used his free hand to shield Nik’s face, his thumb brushing lightly along Nik’s temple.

Nik sighed as the warmth spread through his scalp, the tension in his shoulders beginning to ease. The water ran down the back of his neck, pooling slightly where Price had placed the towel earlier. “You are enjoying this.”

“Of course I am,” Price said, grabbing the bottle of shampoo. He flicked it open with a thumb, the faint citrusy scent filling the air as he squeezed some into his palm. “Get to run my hands through your hair, keep you quiet for a bit. What’s not to like?”

Nik huffed out a laugh but didn’t argue, his good hand pressing a little firmer against Price’s knee, his thumb moving in slow, absent circles. “It feels wrong, you doing this for me after the week you have had.”

“Not this again,” Price muttered, lathering the shampoo between his hands. The soapy foam felt slick between his fingers as he began working it through Nik’s soaked hair. His palms brushed the edges of Nik’s forehead, and his fingers combed through the longer strands with steady, deliberate care. “I told you, I want to do this. You’ve been walking around all week without washing it because of that bloody shoulder. Can’t say I’d let you try it one-handed, either, though I’m sure you’ve tried.”

Nik chuckled, his head tipping forward slightly as Price’s fingers moved through his hair. The gentle pressure on his scalp drew a quiet, involuntary hum from him before he could stop it.

“See? That’s the sound of a man being thoroughly pampered,” Price teased, his voice soft but smug.

Nik let out a low sigh, his eyes drifting shut as he leaned back slightly, his hand brushing up towards Price’s thigh, squeezing absent-mindedly at the muscles there. “No need to be so smug, Mishka.”

Price chuckled, his fingers continuing their slow, steady work. “Too late for that.”

Nik didn’t reply, though the corners of his mouth twitched in the faintest of smiles. His shoulders softened further under Price’s touch as the soothing rhythm of his hands worked away the last of the shampoo.

The warm water cascaded over Nik’s hair again as Price rinsed it clean, taking care to keep any stray suds from running into Nik’s face. By the time he reached for the conditioner, the faint tang of citrus had mellowed into a subtler freshness.

“How’s that shoulder feeling today?” Price asked, his voice quieter now.

Nik shifted slightly beneath him, the sling pressing against Price’s chest with the movement. “Better than yesterday.”

“Good,” Price murmured, smoothing the conditioner through the damp strands. His hands moved slower now, the pads of his fingers brushing lightly over the ends of Nik’s hair. “You’ll be back to giving me hell in no time.”

Nik cracked an eye open, his gaze warm despite his teasing tone. “Am I not giving you hell now?”

“You calling this hell?” Price smirked. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Nik grumbled something under his breath, low and indistinct, but the sound of it made Price grin anyway.

The conditioner rinsed away easily, leaving Nik’s hair softer than it had been in weeks. Price grabbed the towel he’d left nearby, unfolding it and gently patting the damp strands dry. Nik shifted slightly beneath him, pressing his good hand against Price’s thigh for balance as he raised his head back up slowly.

“Better?” Price asked, his voice quieter now.

Nik opened his eyes fully, his gaze unguarded as he looked at Price. “Better,” he said, the simple word carrying a weight that made Price pause.

“Good,” Price murmured, setting the towel aside. He cupped Nik’s face with one hand, his thumb brushing along his cheekbone as he leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. “You’re stuck with me, love, like a tick.”

Nik sighed, but his lips quirked upwards in a faint smile. “How romantic.”

“Swept you off your feet, have I?” Price replied, his grin widening.

Nik huffed softly, the sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, and let his head tip forward until it rested briefly against Price’s chest, uncaring that it would leave a wet spot on Price’s shirt. He didn’t speak, but the way his good hand slid up to wrap around Price’s waist said enough.

The bathroom was quiet for a moment, save for the soft drip of water from the shower-head and the occasional rustle of fabric as Price’s thumb traced slow, absent circles at the nape of Nik’s neck. The tension there had eased under his touch, and the steady rhythm seemed to lull Nik into a state of quiet contentment.

He pressed a soft kiss against Nik’s dark hair, his hand brushing back a strand that had fallen into Nik’s face. “Alright,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. “Let’s get you on your feet.”

Nik didn’t move immediately, his head remaining against Price’s chest for just a second longer before he sighed and leaned back. Price shifted carefully, adjusting his knees so he didn’t jostle Nik’s injured arm. He reached down, his hands firm but gentle as he clasped Nik’s good hand and slid his other arm around his back for support.

“Take your time,” Price said quietly, his voice soothing as he braced Nik. He rose slowly, steadying Nik as he did, their movements unhurried. Nik’s grip tightened briefly on Price’s forearm, his balance a little off, but Price held him steady, his free hand brushing over Nik’s lower back in reassurance.

“You alright?” Price asked, his blue eyes scanning Nik’s face, searching for any sign of discomfort.

Nik nodded, though his weight shifted subtly into Price’s hold. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice a little rough.

“Good,” Price said, guiding him toward the door with an arm looped lightly around his waist now. He paused just long enough to grab an extra dry towel, draping it gently around Nik’s shoulders and patting at the damp strands of his hair once more.

“You spoil me,” Nik said, his voice light but his gaze holding a quiet sincerity.

“And you deserve every bit of it,” Price replied, his tone matching Nik’s as he gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Now, let’s get you sorted before your hair dries funny.”

Nik laughed, low and rich, the sound wrapping around Price like a warm blanket. For a moment, Price forgot about the long week he’d had, the mission that had worn him thin, and the worry of leaving Nik to fend for himself. All that mattered was the man standing before him, safe and cared for.

And that was more than enough.

Y’all know those days where you just sit back and start to reminisce on the shit you let people do to you in the past and just think.. how the fuck did I let them get away with that?

Like.. no fades were caught? Nobody ran up?? No nothing???

…

Ts haunts me in my dreams bro😓

I feel like Nik’s been kicked to the couch before, but the reasons could vary as to why.

Did he make John’s tea wrong?

Did he not give him his morning hug?(which is impossible because he always does)

Is it because he found out that Nik accidentally put bleach in the washer and ruined his favorite shirt?

Or maybe he finally found the plant Nik accidentally water-boarded when he was washing dishes.

Either way, the possibilities are endless and Nik will live to see another day. The real issue is if John decides that he can’t touch him anymore.

This is so silly😭❤️

HIIII! I LOVE THE WAY YOU DREW ROACH! You made him look so badass! 🤎

OH HI THANKS (but I don't make anything look at him he is just like that by himself I guess??)

John just loves older men with long hair🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️ who can blame him😏

If Nikolai is at home he'll let his hair airdry whenever he washes it because he has no reason not to and whenever he does it curls at the ends. Like really curls at the ends until it's brushing up against his ears.

It drives John's insane. He's never so badly wanted to run his hands through someone's hair and he refuses to mention how much it's grown in hopes that eventually, it'll be long enough for Nik to put up.

Nikolai might be the one putting his hair up but John will be the one hitting his knees.

So you just gonna shoot me 57 times huh? Alright, that’s cool.

The day Mac dies, John doesn't lose it like everyone expects of him. He gets the call, it was a car accident that killed him, MacMillan died on impact and he didn't suffer. There were no flashing memories in his mind, no thoughts of those he'd leave, he had no time to think about the end of his life before it met him.

John doesn't drink, he doesn't scream and he doesn't pick a fight. He continues on about his day as usual. He isn't detached, he's fully present and he continues on as his day was planned because people die every day. Mac isn't special, nor would he wish to be treated like he was.

He's fine, it's shitty but he's fine.

And then three days after the call he nips into Tesco, needs to buy some cat food and find a pack of cheap lighters because he lost his last week. That's when he sees them, standing in the biscuit aisle, he looks at a packet of Tunnock's Caramel Wafers and something in his crumbles. Because those were Mac's biscuit of choice.

The Scotsman would have one every day when it was possible and he'd offer John one every day despite the fact that John has never liked them and Mac knew that. he just did it to be an arse.

Those were Mac's biscuits but Mac is dead and suddenly years of John's life seem meaningless as he stands there in an aisle in Tesco because the man whose face featured so often in his memories is one of a man whose body is now in a casket.

John wonders briefly if grief is a being that he can not see because he can feel the hand that cracks his ribcage to reach into his chest and maul at his heart.

The first time Mac met Nikolai was when his sergeant had disappeared to go have a smoke outside base to “clear his head”, and was found later by his captain getting his guts rearranged in the back of the criminal pilot’s helicopter.

Mac hated Nik’s guts ever since then. Fucking his sergeant like some wild animal and thinking he wouldn’t find out about it? Not to mention the age difference. While Johnathan was 23, Nik was a smooth 32.

Old bastard.

He quickly gets back into the captain’s good graces though after he’d saved his team from a botched mission, as well as left his favorite biscuits, mint crisps, and a bottle of expensive whiskey on his desk as an apology. Not to mention that a perk of having Nik around is that he keeps John busy so that he’s not a pain in his arse all the time.

Where he’d been drawing penises on Mac’s very important paperwork, he was now helping Nik fix up his helicopter or doing his own paperwork across from Mac’s desk with the pilot by his side watching on. Sometimes they’d even read together, and Mac found that sweet.

What the captain liked the most though was when he could call on Nik to handle John when he was being pissy.

All it took was a quick text or phone call when the brat’s back was turned, and then suddenly Nik is pulling John out of his office with a “happy” expression on his face, claiming that they were gonna go “fix” his helicopter.

Little did John know, it wasn’t the helicopter that was gonna get fixed.

Nik has a CRAZY wind up for smacking ass when he and John are home alone. Nuclear shit that makes John Tom and Jerry scream /hj

He sees John bending over to grab something out of a cupboard and he locks in on his target with the focus of a sniper.

If John jumps and hits his head inside of the cabinet then he knows he'll have to buy dinner to win the Enlishman's favor, yet again but he won't regret it.