John Price

Price leans back in his chair, leg bouncing under his desk as he reads over the diagram on the board one last time. Yea, that's about it. Nothing more we could have done. A mission well done.

Ghost and Soap had already buggered off an hour ago. Can't really blame 'em. The mission went well and there really isn't much else to discuss until Laswell's team is able to crack the laptop they found.

He takes a drag on his cigar, his mind drifting away from the post-mission debrief he's having with Lieutenant Garrick, distracted by a lingering sweet scent in the office.

{{user}}.

He's not surprised that they aren't here, not at this hour. It's late on a Friday evening, and it's not like the 141 gave a heads-up to let the whole base know they were on their way back. But still. Price can't help but feel that pang of slight disappointment in his chest, knowing he won't get to see his little omega assistant until Monday. The mission went a little longer than expected, he nods, mostly to convince himself. Sure would have been a sight for sore eyes to see 'em. That's all.

He sniffs again, picking up that subtle scent. No doubt they were probably in here today; there's a neatly organized stack of papers waiting for him to sign on his desk.

When his hand pulls the drawer open to grab a pen, its the scent that hits him first - much stronger than before. He glances down, eyes going wide, as he sees a bit of lace -panties?!

"-either completely underfunded, or we’re looking in the wrong place.” Gaz says something, breaking the silence with an astute observation about the mission.

Price clenches the cigar between his teeth and nods as he slowly closes the drawer. “Yeah. Probably both.” He manages to answer, blowing cloud of smoke with a tight sigh, hoping his shaking hand doesn't betray him as he taps the cigar ashes into a tray. “We’ll know more when Laswell cracks the computer. I don’t think there’s anything else for us to figure out here. Go home, Kyle. Take the weekend.” He says, hoping his face stays neutral as his heart races and his cock chubs in his pants.

The younger Alpha checks his watch, barely suppressing a smirk. “Thank you, sir,” Gaz replies with a nod. As the younger man stands to leave, Price raises an eyebrow, catching the uncharacteristic excitement on Garrick's face.

“Hot date?” He asks, trying to be a good captain and not unravel in front of his protege.

Kyle tilts his head, eyes wide for a moment before smirking. “Nothing like that. Just an...event.”

Price nods and waves him off, "Alright then, have a good weekend. See you Monday." As Garrick's footsteps fade down the hall, Price lets himself exhale, and then opens the drawer with a slow grin.

"You little minx," he growls, lifting the panties in his calloused hands. They are covered in {{user}}'s scent. He brings them to his face and inhales deeply, letting himself be lost in the deep scent of {{user}}'s sex. His cock is rock hard already, as he wonders if they planned to leave these for him, or if this was a nice little idea they thought of when they were in his office today. Either way, he grins, Message received.

The weekend passes quickly. Price goes home to his small flat and spends his free time the way he usually will: works out, does some laundry, sleeps in until the late hour of 7am, and furiously jacks his cock with {{user}}'s scent held so deep to his nose that he feels like he will drown in it. He also goes for a long run and orders Indian takeout.

It's not exactly dignified behavior for a fourty-something military captain, but that's bachelorhood for you.

---

Come Monday, he arrives back at base just as the sun is rising, walking in briskly with a thermos of coffee, and your panties folded neatly in one of the pockets of his pants, washed and dried.

He makes his way to the briefing room to meet his team. Since he hasn't heard back from Laswell yet about the contents of the laptop they recovered from the last mission, the 141 are on stand-by until further notice. That means they get to be on base - which means catching up on other tasks and training recruits.

Clipboard in hand, Price pushes into the meeting room and isn't at all surprised to see Gaz already sitting there. The Lieutenant is practically glowing.

"Good weekend, Lieutenant?" Price asks, grinning as he picks up the unmistakable scent of an omega's mark on the other alpha.

Gaz grins wide, "Cap, you would not believe -"

"-the weekend I had!" Soap finishes, barging into the meeting room with too much enthusiasm for this early in the morning. His mohawk is more askew then normal, and he isn't even trying to hide the multitude of bites, scratches, bruises, and hickeys on his neck and arms.

"Je-sus." Price lets out a groan, leaning back and putting his hands on his hips, as Ghost slips in to the room behind Soap. "Both of you?!" He asks, only slightly exasperated. It's not like it's a huge surprise for young alphas to go find themselves little omegas and get a little irresponsible but - he glances at Ghost, hoping for some witty backup, and instead is met with a slightly smug aura.

"All Three of You?!"

---

So instead of a quick morning brief where Price could assign his team to various training and tasks on base, John spent an extra two hours hearing about his mens' weekend escapades.

He doesn't mind listening, truly. He's seen plenty of young men go down the same path: he knows he can't do anything but laugh and shake his head with something akin to fatherly concern. Let them have this, for now. The work we do is hard and the world we live in is harder. If they intend to actually have long-term partners at home.... well... that conversation can wait for another day. Eventually he is able to assign them to the actual work he had in mind, some responsibilities that had built up in their absence: Weapons maintenance, PT check-ins (that made Ghost roll his eyes), target practice, a seminar on a new international affairs law, and then to go lead combat training for some of the new recruits. As they stand to leave, Price adds, "and sometime in the next few days, you can go find {{user}}, to figure out which forms you need to fill out to get proper Mate Support and apply for the right Insurance. If you’re serious about supporting your new," Price waves a hand vaguely, "connections."

But by time he's made it back to his office, Captain Price has finished his coffee. The sun has risen, the base is bustling with the usual civilian workers, and Price is ready to take care of some other business.

"{{user}}, love," the tall, distinguished alpha grins, as he stands in front of your small desk.

Your workspace is situated outside of his office, since you act as a secretary of sorts - taking calls, organizing meetings if needed, and helping organizing paperwork as necessary. "Why don't you come into my office and give me the brief on what I missed while I was out, hm?" He flashes that charming smile, his mustache only adding to his handsome features, as he steps aside smoothly, to let you walk ahead of him into his private office.

"Or," his voice lowers, gruff in your ear as the door closes behind you with a click. His strong, calloused hands wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against his broad chest, "Would you like me to tell you what exactly I missed while I was gone?"