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Price and Simon stand either side of the kitchen counter and stare at the bouquet of flowers between them. They're in identical poses; palms flat on the surface, spread wide as they lean forward.

"You panicked, didn't ya?" Price asks, eyebrow rising.

"Yeah," Simon responds. "Thought if I turned up wiv nothin', you'd be offended. S'the done thing, innit?"

"An' your go to was daisies?"

"They're chrysanthemums."

"Wot?"

"Chrysanthemums," Simon repeats. "Says it on the label."

"Huh. Right, yeah." Price's fingers tap on the countertop. "Guess I, uh... should put 'em in some water."

Simon watches his captain - and date for that evening - rummage through his kitchen cupboards, eventually coming up with a pint glass that he fills with water. He grabs the bouquet and slides it inside, tugging gingerly at the plastic wrapping.

"There," Price says, presenting the still-wrapped chrysanthemums with open palms. They stand in silence for a moment longer, both with an itching anxiety under their skin.

Eventually, Price sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. He looks at Simon, who appears to be paralysed by uncertainty. In the field, Simon's looming figure is suitably intimidating for his role; he understands every part of it, and holds himself confidently.

Surrounded by domesticity, he looks every bit the awkward, introverted man he actually is at heart, unsure how to navigate the social requirements of a damned date he wants so desperately to go well. This is difficult for him. He's doing his best.

"Hey Simon. What do you call a flower that runs on electricity?"

Simon looks up, blond eyebrows tilting up and out.

"A power plant."

Simon snorts and Price watches the corners of his eyes crinkle with a smile. "You're pollen my leg."

Price chuckles, resting his hand over the top of Simon's on the countertop. "C'mon, s'just a pint and a curry. We've done it a hundred times before."

"Yeah." Simon rises to his full height and follows Price to the door. "I'd... uh, appreciate it if ya didn' mention the flowers t' anyone." He meant Johnny.

"S'olrigh', I'll tell 'em you rose to the occasion."

"Fuckin' 'ell..." Price can hear the grin in Simon's tone, and brushes the backs of their fingers together as he locks his front door behind them.

Before Price can walk away, Simon hooks a forefinger around his and pulls him back, tugging down the scarf around his chin. He kisses Price tenderly, lingering against his lower lip and bumping their foreheads together before he draws back.

"Kiss is meant to be at the end of night as ya walk me t' my door, an' only if you woo me well enough," Price says, smiling softly.

Simon shrugs. "I'll woo ya. Reckon we should try it our way rather 'an anyone else's from now on."

"Reckon you might be right."

The date goes well. Price doesn't mention the flowers to anyone, but he keeps them watered 'til they die a few days later.

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About to go watch 28 Years Later on a school night.

I've always loved the idea that there was a zombie outbreak in Britain and the rest of the world went, "eh, nevermind" and then left us fuckin' to it. 😂

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giggling cause I've already known 90% of those prior to asking 😭 also I'm not american, thank fuck. And also the long term weather report says it's not supposed to get over 20 degrees at any point so that's good

We're generally a lot friendlier than people make us out to be. The far right are a vocal minority. The cultural diversity of our cities is one of our greatest strengths. And, despite the Supreme Court ruling, use the toilet you're fucking comfortable in. Normal people don't care, and they're more likely to tell a terf to wind their neck in and piss off.

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any tips for surviving the uk? I'm going to scotland on the 7th

Drink lots and don't underestimate the sun here. We don't have air conditioning everywhere and our society is not built for heat. Trust me, I've happily survived Egypt, Cyprus, Greece, Turkey, Croatia, etc, but British heat is horrific.

Don't expect the busses or trains to run on time.

If you're American, no you're not, you're Canadian.

You can drink the tap water.

We drive on the left.

Don't call a Scottish person English. Depending on where you are, I wouldn't call them British either.

Try Irnbru. Don't eat haggis or something called black pudding.

If you go into a Wetherspoons, be prepared to meet some very interesting people.

Nowhere takes bloody cash anymore, so make sure you get a Monzo card or something.

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❤️🧡💛Patreon Pride Requests💚💙💜

141 + NikPrice

GhostGaz (ftr RavenJelly)

Laswell and her wife :3

[link]

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This really cuts to the heart of it, doesn’t it? By their own admission, Zohran will not do anything materially to make Jews in New York unsafe, but he just makes them feeeeel unsafe for some ☪️ reason 🟤 and really isn’t that just as bad?

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Having a bad day, if it ain’t too much of a bother could we see some more GhostPrice?

Sure! Let me know what flavour you'd like.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/66863737/chapters/172566085

Comphet Price now has his own AO3 story.

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Ghost has a permanent thousand-yard stare

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You say Price with midnight zoomies. I chant ''one of us, one of us,, and fly the neurospicy flag.

I absolutely think so. Yes, it's absolute projection because I can never have a formal diagnosis, and Price wouldn't have one either. But let's look at the facts, Non:

Hyperfocus: Price becomes deeply focused on a mission, especially when it involves threats like Makarov or Shepherd. His intense dedication and refusal to quit can be linked to ADHD. He's an overachiever in the military, but he joined young; he probably had big issues at school with that specific environment. He excels in the armed forces because it's set up for men like him.

Impulsivity: He takes extreme actions without full authorisation or consideration of political consequences, such as launching a ballistic missile to eliminate a threat. I think this is significantly tempered though. You don't get where Price is without learning to harness this part of yourself; one of the things he sees of himself in Soap.

Nonconformity and rule-bending: Price often works around or against official orders to accomplish what he believes is morally right or tactically necessary. He struggles with authority and rigid systems, and prefers autonomy and flexible environments. (Price to Laswell: I want this special taskforce all to myself to achieve these objectives specifically in my way.)

High energy/restlessness He’s constantly active; planning missions, engaging in combat, never standing still for long. Look at the heel-toe bounce, the pat-pat-pat. This man needs the gym, he needs an active lifestyle, or his mind will convince him is skin is crawling off his body.

Finally, I assign Price ADHD because I often feel people with ADHD are infantilised or underestimated. Fuck that shit.

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Nikprice mermay piece I forgot to show my folks....

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Nik takes Price back to his hotel room and gets hot and heavy in the shower. (Comphet Price: Part 2.)

cw: dry humping, Intercrural. Comphet Price.

For the whole cab ride, Price drifted between jittery excitement and a bone deep terror that made his stomach twist itself in knots. He was about to get rattled by one of his longest serving and closest friends, and technically he was still bloody married, and–

But every time his thoughts began to spiral, the warmth of Nik's hand would slide over his thigh or over the top of his fingers, squeezing gently, and when Price looked up, he found that very same comfort in Nik's face that he had done so for years. Every exfil, every tense meeting, every time the chips were down and Price had been certain his time had come, Nik had been there. This was no different.

The hotel they pulled up to was as swanky as Price expected. There was a bloke at the door in a red uniform and everything. Price stood considering the buff on the doorman’s shoes, hands deep in his jacket pockets, as Nik paid for their ride. He startled when he felt Nik's hand slide through his elbow. “Are you ok, John?”

“Oh… uh, yeah, course,” Price said, whiskers twitching as he offered a broad smile. “Jus’ a bit nippy out ‘ere. Beer jacket’s worn off.”

The corners of Nik's eyes crinkled with his grin and John wondered why he had never noticed how much he liked it when they did. He wanted to touch them, and his hand twitched. Well, maybe… maybe he could. Not out here, right? Or…

The hesitation vanished from his mind as Nik closed in to kiss him. It was a quick peck, and Price chased Nik’s lips as they pulled away, eager to feel their chapped softness, taste the peppermint gum Nik had just discarded in a nearby bin. His eagerness was apparently endearing, because Nik chuckled, pinching his cheek. “Easy, captain. Come.” Nik placed a hand on his back and guided him through the door opened by the attendant, into a rather posh foyer with a marble floor and artwork that looked like it had been produced by a primary school class using bloody finger paints. Modern art.

The lift behind reception took them up a few floors. Price would have probably counted had Nik not cupped his jaw and kissed him again the moment the doors closed. This time it was longer, deeper, his tongue sweeping into Price's mouth, curling gently against the roof as Price's fists buried in his shirt, body quivering. Nik smelled so good. Every time Price drew a breath in, it was like Nik was entering his blood stream. When Nik pulled back, Price shoved his face against his neck and breathed him in. Nik chuckled again. “If you like it, I can buy you a bottle.”

“S’probably three years worth of my salary,” Price said, muffled by Nik's skin. It was a deep, musky scent, but it wasn't just the cologne, was it? It was Nik. Clean sweat and bloody… pheromones or something. Price was heady with it. Nik let him huff his fill, sliding his knee between Price's thighs. He pressed up a little, and Price groaned at the teasing pressure against his prick, more than half hard and gagging for round two.

“Da. I feel the investment was worth it.”

Before Price could answer, the lift doors slid open with a soft ping and Nik dragged Price into the hallway. They had to be near the top of the building. The red carpet muffled their footsteps, the only sound the eventual beep of Nik's key card as he swiped it over the door and let them in.

It suddenly felt very real. Very, very, very fuckin’ real.

Price swallowed hard as he stood in the middle of the large suite and looked out of the full length sash windows. That was where the nod to the building’s Victorian heritage ended, however, because the rest of the room was modern. All straight lines and clean surfaces, with crisp white sheets and neutral walls. An empty canvas for the brief imprint of each passing guest.

“Would you like a beer?”

“Eh?” Price looked up, blue eyes owlish. Nik offered a bottle towards him, the metal opener pressed against the neck. “Oh yeah, cheers.”

The first swig calmed his nerves. Crisp lager bubbling down his throat as he watched Nik shed his coat and shoes. Price figured he should too, and folded his jacket over the back of a nearby chair, his boots tucked neatly beneath it.

“You are nervous.”

Price swallowed the lump that quickly built in his throat as he looked at Nik. “Yeah, guess… I, uh… well, s’my first time with… and, ‘m…” Price scrubbed a hand down his face. “Fuck sake, ‘m outta my depth here, Nik… I… if you were a girl, ‘d know how t’...” He circled the hand in front of his chest, the words sticking in his throat. This was bloody stupid. Nik had already tugged him off in a disabled toilet. But, for some reason, the intimacy of the setting felt more… serious. Like he was taking a much bigger step towards something that would have consequences.

Nik’s head tilted to the side, his eyes soft in the dim bedroom light. Fuckin’ ‘ell, it should be against the law for someone to be that handsome. “I am happy to lead you, but I will not force you. You can change your mind, John.”

“No,” Price said, far too quickly. Bit pathetic really. “I… jus’ gimme a moment.”

Nik nodded. “Of course.” He had poured himself a glass of wine. Red. Which was about where Price’s wine knowledge ended. Nik picked it up as he headed towards the bathroom. “I will be in the shower. Feel free to join me if you are ready.”

And that was it, wasn't it? Nik was happy to lead, but Price had to put the control in his hands. Their fumble in the toilets had been one thing but that was after Price had kissed him full on the mouth. Now he had shown hesitation. Nik was just making sure; offering Price an out that would save their friendship before it could be irrevocably ruined by a thoughtless decision.

Price listened to the shower squeak and then the patter of water against the tiles through the open door. It didn't take long for steam to begin curling in the light pouring through the gap, and John took another long gulp of lager before placing the bottle down. He could stay here and wait for Nik to finish. They could drink and play cards, like normal.

Nah. He wanted this. Needed this.

The mental image of Nik's hand stroking down his prick was making him hard all over again. And if he enjoyed this, enjoyed Nik, then that confirmed it all, didn't it? There was no going back. This was the point of no return. Price had to know and… fuck, Nik was just… he was right there, on the other side of the door. Naked and willing. All Price had to do was not bottle it.

He sucked in a deep, shuddering breath and walked to the door. He paused at the threshold, his fingertips sliding along the woodgrain to push it a little further open, and he gazed at the damn beautiful sight before him, his gut tightening with that white hot arousal he had felt when Nik had touched him in the pub booth.

It was an open plan bathroom. Wet room, Price mentally corrected. Which meant the shower was spacious, with only a glass divide between the water and the rest of the en suite. Nik was facing away from the door and taking a sip of wine, which meant Price got to watch the water cascade down the muscular curves and valleys of his back, the first true work of art he'd seen since stepping into the building. Price’s eyes tracked down to his arse, full but damn pert, and his muscular thighs; from this angle, he could just about see the shadow of something big hanging between them and his breath hitched in his throat.

With shaking hands, Price pulled off the rest of his clothes. Nik had dumped his in a pile by the toilet. Messy bastard. It was a small rebellion against his military past, much like the haircut and the leather jacket; he was his own man and everything he did was a testament to that. Including his open and healthy sexuality. Price folded his jeans and t-shirt by the sink, his thumbs hooking in the waistband of his boxers hesitantly. Last stitch and he was all in. His eyes slid to Nik again, watching him place his glass in a small alcove in the wall and raise his hands to his hair. The movement made his back ripple, lats spreading, delts flexed, and Price’s prick gave a desperate throb. He pulled his boxers off and shuffled forwards.

The steam beaded in the hair on his arms and chest as he stepped behind the glass, his mouth suddenly dry as his nose filled with the scent of warm skin and cologne. Nik’s back was a map of his life. There were scars; an exit wound at his shoulder, jagged lacerations near his obliques and spidering lines over his hip. Like lightning. Price recognised an electric burn when he saw it; someone had hooked Nik up to a car battery in hopes of extracting information.

Price drank in every inch, from the hair around his legs, the hint of it against the pale skin of his arse. The way the water travelled down firm curves, overhead spotlights catching in the droplets when Nik shifted to reach for the shower gel. He had seen Nik naked before, but never actually looked. Never taken the time to truly drink him in. Too bloody scared that he might feel something. But as his eyes lingered now, he realised that the flashes of firm muscle and broad shoulders that he had imagined during his private time, hand stripping his dick in quiet shame, had been retrieved from his deeply buried memories of Nik.

Price reached out, his fingers sliding against Nik’s warm skin, following the lines of those scars over the curve of muscle and bone. Nik sighed softly, and Price felt Nik’s big hand slide over the top of his fingers, holding Price’s touch against his body.

Nik's words from the pub came back to Price as he stepped closer. That Nik had waited, had wanted for so long. Those rumbled promises while they'd stood in the toilet had been confessions of yearning, of lust and desire. Price’s nose bumped against Nik's shoulder blade, water streaming down his face, as he pressed a kiss to the pitted scar of the bullet wound. It sent a thrill the length of his body, his fingers tightening at Nik's hip as Nik tilted back a little, Price’s erection brushing against the backs of his legs. “Bloody ‘ell,” Price choked out. It felt like a fist had closed around his spine, his feet rooted to the floor.

Nik turned in his arms, holding Price's hand to keep him close. The front was somehow more beautiful than the back, but Price didn't get long to admire it because Nik scratched through his beard and cupped his jaw to tilt his head up for a kiss. It was lazy but deep, Nik’s tongue curling over his and drawing him deeper, urging him closer until Price could feel the firm mounds of Nik's tits and the thick, hot curve of his cock against his hip. Fuck, fuck.

Price had never felt this turned on. It bubbled under his skin, like a roiling, jittery tension that made him want to squirm and rut into the heat of Nik's body. His heart beat hard against his rib cage, his damn balls felt tight. He broke the kiss to catch his breath, drawing back to admire Nik's chest, his eyes wide. He had a dark pelt of hair, thicker than Price’s, streaked with grey and wisps of white. Unsurprising given he was knocking on fifty. Price pushed his fingers through it, marvelling at how it felt running between them, how right it felt. His prick jumped eagerly as he cupped the side of a firm pec, before slowly stroking down Nik's belly. There was some definition under there, but the fact that it was full, building out Nik's thicker figure, made Price groan with tortured longing.

Nik was breathing heavier. Price could feel his heart beneath his lips when he leaned forward to kiss his chest. And if that wasn't enough of a hint, the huge bloody erection would have been. Price's mouth watered as he finally made himself look. He'd always been so careful to avoid it in communal showers, to avoid even thinking about another man's prick, and now he realised why. The game would've been up. There was no denying the pulse of raw arousal and need that thundered through him with each throb of his pulse as he admired Nik's cock.

It was fuckin’ huge. Girthy, a deep red with arousal, veins running from tip to base where they disappeared into a thatch of neat, dark curls. It jutted straight out but for a slight curve up, with a large, thick head pressing out of Nik's foreskin. In any other life, Price reckoned Nik would've been one of those high paid Russian porn stars; the kind that had women and men alike queuing up for a ride. Everything about him was big. It was the swell of Nik's balls Price had seen from behind; firm, heavy. Price swallowed the mouthful of saliva gathered on his tongue, and looked up into Nik's eyes. Nik had been watching him with interest, and now he smiled at the look of awe on Price's face.

Nik stroked a thumb over the corner of Price's eye, following the lines of his crow’s feet, watching the water cascade over his face. “You are so beautiful.”

Price flushed a deep red. “Don't take the piss, Nik…”

“I am not,” Nik said softly, reaching for Price’s hand. He guided it gently, giving Price plenty of scope to pull away, and slid Price’s fingers down the length of his cock. “Mmm, you see? This… this is at the sight of you. The thought of having you in my bed, of spreading your legs… John, I am crazy for you.”

“Nik,” Price gasped, drawing in a stuttering breath at the feel of Nik’s hard cock against his palm. Nik thrust his hips slowly, sliding himself through Price’s grip, and Price watched as his foreskin slid back and forth over his glans, precum smearing over it briefly before being washed away by the shower. God, he needed it. He just needed. He wasn't even fuckin’ sure what it entailed. Not like he'd had any education in it and his fool arse hadn't watched anything but straight porn, because he had disregarded his curiosity as indulgence. He'd never admit shortcomings to anyone else; it was a matter of pride that he was good in bed. But he had no idea where to start with this buffet of a bloke that had been his best mate for years, and he couldn't even entertain the possibility of fucking it up. “Nik, show me… please, fuckin’ ‘ell, show me, I'll… show me how to make you feel good,” he spluttered.

Nik smiled gently before kissing Price gently on the lips, his big hands settled on Price’s hips and guided him backwards towards the glass divide, but the shock of cold against Price's back didn't come, because Nik placed his hand just behind him as a buffer. He twisted, reaching behind him to a small bottle Price hadn't noticed previously. Oil-based lubricant.

“Your hand,” Nik asked, and Price proffered his palm. Once Nik had filled it, he placed the bottle aside and gathered both of Price's hands around their cocks, sliding them together. A choked moan broke from Price’s chest. He'd never seen a sexier fuckin’ sight; their crowns pressed close, drooling with arousal, and the silky heat of Nik's shaft felt mind-blowing. Nik kept his big hand clasped over Price's as he rocked his hips, finding the perfect pressure by squeezing in gentle encouragement. “John, da…” he growled, and Price glanced up from staring open mouthed at their pricks grinding together just in time to see the blissed flutter of Nik's eyes. “Da, just like that.”

Nik gently nudged Price’s feet apart so he could shift a little closer, the slow, graceful roll of his hips was mesmerising, practiced and at ease with the sensual rhythm of sex. They were out the main jets of the water, and soon precum was spilling over Price's hands as pleasure hummed through his core; snatched stuttering breaths between each roll of tension,.climbing steadily towards a heady peak. Nik kissed him, and Price’s head fell back against the glass with a dull thud, soft moans breaking past the seal of their lips. Price was mindless with bliss, pinned by the warm bulk of a man that set his blood on fire with want in a way he'd never experienced. As Nik's free hand wandered from his hip to squeeze the curve of his arse cheek, Price gasped softly, tensing a little as those strong fingers wandered to the sensitive skin of his cleft.

Nik left his lips to nuzzle through his beard. “Relax, solnyshko. I will not hurt you.”

“Nik, ‘m… be gentle, yeah?” Price rasped. Everything was tingling, he was so damn close to coming, but it was like it balanced just out of reach. Nik was being deliberately slow, the grind of his prick against Price's just enough to keep him on the precipice, immobilised by a tight coil of pleasure. Nik hummed against his neck and those strong fingers slid between Price's cheeks, stroking over his hole and down the back of his sac. No one had ever touched him there, and with both of his hands full, he felt distinctly vulnerable. His arse clenched, thighs tightening as Nik stroked back up.

Nik kissed his neck, his thick chest pressed so close Price could feel the mirror of his heartbeat. When Nik massaged back down, he pressed up a little at a spot just behind his balls, and began to rub in a firm circle. The heat spread through Price's hip in a deep ebb, and his legs damn shook. “Nik, Nik…”

“You are so sensitive. Made to take my cock,” Nik murmured into Price's shoulder, still grinding through Price's palms, just a touch faster. Price felt his orgasm build to a heady height, a deep, coiled knot. His shoulders tensed, his toes curling against the wet tiles, the incessant massage between his legs making him quake, his body tensing against something overwhelming. He sucked in another shuddering breath, and spread his legs a little.

“Da, there… John, relax into it, do not fight. Be good for me,” Nik growled.

A strangled noise broke from Price's throat as he came. It was so intense his eyes blotted with white and grey, his chest seizing tight as he sucked in shuddering breaths through wrecked moans. His cock sputtered thick ropes of cum, soaking his fists as Nik continued to fuck through them, his fingers still pressing up in insistent circles to eke out every ounce of pleasure as Price shook and gasped against him. He only eased off when Price's moans became more high-pitched and desperate, the grip of his hands faltering.

Nik caught him as his knees weakened, one arm scooping around his body, while he tilted Price's chin up for a deep, possessive kiss. He drew back, peppering gentler kisses against Price's lips, on his forehead, down his neck and the bobbing Adam's apple of his throat. When he guided Price around and urged his hands up against the glass, he went without protest, moaning softly when Nik's thick body pressed up against him, his cock sliding between Price's thighs. “You gonna fuck me?” Price asked, somewhat breathless.

“Your thighs now,” Nik murmured into his shoulder. “Then, later, your mouth, your hole. I will have all of you tonight.”

“Fuck…” Price’s head dropped between his shoulders, his thighs clamping around Nik's cock as it began to thrust between them, the heat of his shaft pressing up against Price's taint and balls, still sensitive from orgasm. He felt the rumble of Nik’s low moans against his back, and the softness of his lips, the nip of his teeth against the slope of his shoulder.

Every time Nik's hips pushed against the plush of his arse, his fat cock head leaked precum down the front of Price's thighs, so fucking aroused and eager. Price found himself fantasising about what it would feel like inside him, wet, and hot, and big, fucking him so deep he would feel Nik through the wall of his belly. It would rub that spot inside him, stretching him out, possessing him, and Price would be caged in by the muscular body pressed to his back, his arse up to be bred. Those big hands would clasp his hips as they did now, holding him down, spreading his legs. His mouth hung open as he panted, tilting his hips just enough for Nik to brush his hole a little. These were fantasies that had always hovered at the edge of his consciousness, but now they were stampeding forward, unlocked by the heady musk of Nik's body, the heat of his touch.

Nik moved faster, the wet slap of his skin joining the soft patter of water and Nik's low, rumbling moans. Price tilted his head back against Nik's shoulder only to look down quickly when he felt the thick shaft between his thighs begin to pulse and twitch. Nik came with a low, satisfied growl, drawing back just as little so his glans was squeezed by Price's thighs.

They stood in the soft afterglow, Nik drawing Price from the cold glass into the warmth of the water jets, turning him so they could kiss, slow and deep. Price ran his hands over the curves of Nik's body, squeezing greedily at every firm muscle and soft swell, arching into Nik's reciprocating touch like a cat. When Nik reached for the shower gel, Price leaned into his chest and mouthed at his throat, moaning softly at the first glide of soaped hands down his back. Nik washed him reverently, big palms working first down his back to his arse, sliding into his cleft in long passes that felt damn near possessive as they brushed his hole and the back of his sac.

“Will you give everything to me?” Nik whispered into the soft skin beneath Price's ear, sliding two fingers back and forth over his hole, big hand splayed beneath the curves of his arse. “Trust me to make love to you as you deserve, John.”

“Yeah, Nik… please… need this,” Price said, already semi hard as Nik's fingers pressed gently against his taint. He moaned softly, toes curling as Nik kissed down his throat. “Need you.”

Price felt the puff of amusement against his throat, and then the nuzzle of Nik's nose, before he drew away. Nik gathered Price’s hands in his and kissed the back of his knuckles before pressing a palm to the coarse stubble. “Finish your beer, take your time, the hot water will make you lightheaded.”

“Where… where are you goin’?”

“To make the room comfortable. I want no interruptions.”

“Olrigh', is there… uh, is there a special way I should… uh, y'know, clean up?”

Nik grinned and Price would have gone red if he hadn’t been flushed with heat already. “No, John. Just as you normally would. I am not, what do you say… precious.”

“Right, yeah,” Price coughed, scratching his chin, “yeah, makes sense.”

Nik stepped out of the shower and grabbed his towel from the radiator. Price watched him through the misty window pane until he disappeared into the room, and then reached for the shower gel. Best be a gentleman and be thorough all over, you know, so Nik might want to do this again after tonight.

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"Fealty," a follow-up to this illustration: 👀

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Marking return to sender on cards from relatives who send birthday cards out of obligation to someone who doesn't exist anymore. 🤌

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and what’s nik’s first favorite john based activity?

Energetic marathon sex of the kind enjoyed by partners of thirty-eight year old athletic men with undiagnosed ADHD.

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Price gets midnight zoomies.

Biting Nik's shoulder, wrestling with him under the duvet, using his arse as bongo drums, squeezing his balls, tweaking his nipples, smacking him with pillows, pretending to smother him with them, sprawling over the top of him to stare directly into his eyes, nose to nose, tickling, groping, chuckling and growling, and then suddenly... he passes out.

Nik has no fucking idea what hit him the first few times, but after a while it becomes his second favourite John-based activity because it feels like a "mask falling away" moment in their relationship.

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Switching fandoms so much I get routine media whiplash. Anyway I love this man and I want to throw fistfuls of rocks at him from a sniper’s vantage point.