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Price hates the stuffy thing. It’s stupid that any military is out wearing suits and ties when fatigues are objectively better, but this is an important meeting. As an officer, it’s important he projects the best of his task force. That means formal dress. It also means you fixing his tie because he can’t ever get it straight.
“Don’t choke me.” He mutters, hating the stiffness of his joints in the suit.
You loosen the tie. “Has to look good.”
“You don’t have to wear the bloody thing.”
“Not today, but I do have one.” You glance over to the closet where your own dress uniform hangs in its protective bag. “Shouldn’t have become an officer if you didn’t wanna wear it.”
Price grumbles, pushing your hand away from his ribbons. “Only an hour… I can do an hour.”
“Well, do it right and get us the grant.” You kiss his cheek and flatten out this jacket. “The boys are tired of old gear.”
With annoyance in his gut, Price is off to the formal meeting with the grant committee. It’s an hour of boring proposals that he has to sit through before he can even present his case, so he’s all but tuned out in his seat until someone shakes his shoulder. He looks up to see you, formal dress and all, looking down at him. A lump forms in his throat and he has to blink a few times before he can speak.
“Sergeant?” He glances at the lieutenant talking up front for a moment. “Something happen?”
“A new report, Ghost thought it might help our case.” You hand him a folder and he takes it, his eyes trailing over how your sleeve fits on your arm.
“Right…” He mutters, eyes now on the heft of pins covering your chest. “And you dressed up…?”
“Didn’t wanna disrupt the meeting.” You give him a pat on his shoulder. “I’ll be outside, Cap. Good luck.”
Price watches you go, mostly watches your hips move under your belt, then rubs at his eyes and tries to focus back on his presentation.
It’s a painstaking twenty minutes, but he makes it in time to shove you in the car before you can talk. Any time you look at him you’re met with a simple “eyes front” that you don’t have the will to question. Price’s grip on his steering wheel is white knuckled and his jaw is so set you think he might break a tooth.
When you’re finally back on base Price lets his hand drop from the wheel as he sighs. “Go inside and wait.” He orders. “Don’t change, don’t do anything. Just wait.”
A braver man would ask why, but you just get out of the car and walk towards the barracks. It takes Price five minutes after you sit on your shared bed to come in. He closes and locks the door before he looks at you.
“Just had to wear it…”
You look at him, confused. “You’re still pissy about the uniform?”
“Yours.” He mutters, stepping closer. “Haven’t seen you in that in months.”
“Something wrong with it?”
“Take out your cock.”
For a few seconds you just look at him. “John--”
“Now, lad.”
Another few seconds, then you do as you’re told.
Price looks down at you, watching you hold yourself in your hand. “Go on.”
It’s not the first time Price has wanted to watch, but you’re still baffled by the surrounding events that you start timidly.
“I sat in that damn meeting for twenty minutes.” Price says, his voice rough as he watches your hand drag over your dick. “Hard. For twenty bloody fucking minutes all because you came in with that on.”
Your hand stills. “You got turned on because I wore my dress uniform?”
“Lad, I used to get hard seeing you in fatigues too.” He sighs, kneeling in front of you. “Gotta let me desensitize, like with the bloody shorts.”
You chuckle and he pushes your hand away. “I forgot about the shorts.”
Price glares up at you for a moment before he engulfs you with his mouth.
“Fuck.” You groan and thread your hand in his hair. “John, fuck, slow down.”
He doesn’t. His head bobs fast, sucking you off hard and quick. It doesn’t take long for your seed to shoot down his throat with that pace.
“F-Fuck, John, enough…” You almost whine as he strokes you with his tongue, even as you soften in his mouth.
He pulls back a moment later, giving one last kiss to your tip. “You bloody warn me before you put that thing on again.”