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The night coated the entire base in a quiet stillness. Ghost lounged on the bed in Price’s quarters, arms folded behind his head. Unmasked, too, giving Price the perfect opportunity to trace the lines and scars of his face. The faint amber tip of his cigar in the ashtray—smoke curling from the edges—and the cool light of the moon illuminated the space, casting an almost ethereal glow over the man, painting his blond hair silver. Almost as if he knew Price’s eyes rested on him, Ghost’s lips parted in a quiet rasp.
“You ever think about how small we are?” Price followed Ghost’s gaze across the window, towards the stars glittering over the quiet landscape. “In the grand scene of things, I mean. Just specks in the bloody universe.”
Price leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees and chin on his clasped fist. “Sure. But you don’t feel small to me, Simon.”
Ghost’s gaze flickered back to Price, a shadow of skepticism crossing his features, lips downturned in a frown. “Doesn’t matter, does it? We’re just men. Dust, eventually.”
Price let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he rose from his chair. It only took a couple strides before he’d crossed the room, climbing the bed to kneel atop the somewhat plush surface, knees bracketing Ghost’s thighs. “You’re not just a man to me. You’re bloody unforgettable, Simon Riley. The stars can piss right off for all I care—they’ve got nothing on you.”
“You say that to all the boys you bring to bed?” The words escaped as a quiet laugh—dry and sardonic. Price rolled his eyes, unable to contain his slight smile at this impossible man beneath him.
“Nah,” he murmured. “Only the pretty ones.”
“Oh, so I’m pretty now? Fuckin’ hell,” Ghost groused, mock annoyance coloring his tone. “Goin’ poetic on me and everything, Captain.”
“Only for you,” Price promised. That earned him a different look—a flash somewhere between surprise and warmth flickering in Ghost’s dark eyes. Even if he didn’t speak, his body told a story all its own. Each scar gracing his face a chapter, each flicker of tension an unspoken moment. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and Price wasn’t entirely convinced Ghost even realized it. Not with how heavily he guarded himself, how every layer of armor protecting his soul wrapped tight around his entire being.
Price reached out, fingers grazing Ghost’s cheek. Rough calluses met the ridges of his skin, enough for Ghost to tense almost imperceptibly for the briefest moment before relaxing down into the contact. “I don’t mean to wax lyrical, Simon. I just don’t want you thinking you’re anything less than incredible to me.”
For a moment, Ghost merely stared at him, chest rising and falling with deep, measured breaths. Almost as if he didn’t quite believe the words Price murmured into the dark, like he didn’t quite know what to do with the information. The moonlight caught his face again when Price shifted, softening the lines and gentling his stern look. “You always talk to your lads like this, or am I the exception?”
“Thought you knew by now,” Price murmured, voice dipping lower, richer, in the exact way he knew would make Ghost shiver beneath him. “You’re no lad, you’re mine.”
Ghost’s Adam’s apple bobbed as Price spoke, a faint flicker of vulnerability passing over his features. A few faint cracks in his usually unshakable exterior—hands resting too still against the blanket, jaw twitching faintly. “Am I, now,” he asked, a quiet challenge lacing his low tone.
“You don’t think so?” Price asked,
Ghost tilted his head. Price watched as his lips parted ever so slightly, eyes flitting to Price’s hand as it moved to rest over his own. “You’re everything, Simon,” Price whispered, leaning in so his breath would ghost across the other man’s face. “My sky. My stars. My heart.”
Ghost swallowed thickly, his gaze locked on Price’s as the weight of those words settled over him. He didn’t pull away from the Captain’s touch—instead he almost sank further into it, body relaxing ever so slightly while his eyes betrayed the swirling emotions beneath the surface. Vulnerability and defiance flickered in the amber depths, a battle between trust and the walls he’d spent years fortifying.
“Your heart, eh?” Ghost’s lips twitched faintly, but his tone lacked its usual bite. Softer, quieter, like he needed to test the words out, feel them over his tongue and shaped by his lips before he could truly believe them. Price nodded, leaning in closer until their foreheads brushed. His hands shifted, releasing his hand to cup the back of his neck instead. Price threaded his fingers through the short blond hair at his nape, deliberate, possessive in a way that he knew Ghost couldn’t argue with.
“My everything,” Price murmured, lips barely grazing. Ghost’s breath hitched as his lips parted in a silent response, but Price didn’t waver. He tilted his head ever so slightly, so close now they could melt into each other if they so wanted—voice dropping to a low, rich, commanding rasp. “I meant what I said, boy. You’re mine. Not just on the field, not just when it’s convenient. You’ve been mine from the moment we met—whether you’ve realized it or not.”
Ghost’s dark eyes narrowed slightly, pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. Tension radiated before them, resistance, yes, but also something deeper, the slightest spark of surrender.
“Look at you,” Price murmured, thumb tracing idle circles over the column of Ghost’s neck. “You want to fight it, don’t you. But you won’t. We both know you won’t.”
Ghost’s brows knit together, jaw clenching faintly. “Bloody full of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Maybe. But you don’t seem inclined to stop me, do you?”
His hands moved again, bracing against the mattress as he leaned in further, body crowding Ghost’s form against the blankets. Their hips brushed together, Ghost bucking up into the moment even as he tried to hold his ground, dark eyes boring into Price’s with a quiet intensity.
“You’re an alpha through and through,” Ghost muttered, voice almost a growl as he tipped his neck ever so slightly. “Always gotta lead, don’t you?”
Price grinned, teeth flashing in the low light. “And you love it. Admit it, Simon—you’re not built to follow just anyone. But me? This?” He leaned closer still, breath fanning across Ghost’s sensitive skin. “You follow because you want to. Because I’ve earned your trust, and you know I’ll take care of you. I’ll protect your heart, and I’ll do it with pride.”
Ghost didn’t respond right away, but Price didn’t need him to. He could feel the staccato beat of his heart hammering against his ribs, eyes giving away the waning resistance, how it melted into something raw and primal and almost submissive beneath him. “You talk too much,” Ghost finally muttered. The words held no heat, just a subtle tension as Price continued to tip him off balance.
Price’s smile softened, though his dominant gaze never faltered. “Maybe. But you’ll listen all the same, won’t you? And you’ll believe me when I tell you—”
He paused, letting the silence stretch, knowing it would drive the man beneath him wild, could feel how it did as their hips nudged each other again. And, with all the quiet authority of a man who knew exactly what he wanted, he whispered, “You’re mine, Simon. Now and always.”
“Yours,” Ghost repeated, the word rough and uneven, but unmistakable. Price nodded, pressing their chests together now, resting on his elbows to hover just above the blond.
“Good lad,” he hummed. “Now let me remind you what that means.”
A deliberate, seamless shift, and Price’s lips descended on Ghost’s. The kiss started slow, gentle, yet quickly deepened as his grip tightened, anchoring their bodies together. Ghost’s hands trailed up, clutching Price’s shoulder and waist, possessive in his own way as they came together. It wasn’t just passion; it was a claim, spoken in every breath, every graze of lips and tongues and teeth, every press of skin on skin.
Ghost’s hesitance dissolved within moments, the tension leaking from his frame now that he had something more to ground him. Price smiled into the kiss as Ghost’s fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, almost holding on for dear life, like he realized that he, too, would own Price’s heart in return. Their breaths came faster, harsher, guiding each other in an endless dance, consuming each other’s soft moans of need and love and desire.
“You’re mine,” Price murmured against Ghost’s lips, voice low and rough with conviction. “And I’m going to make damn sure you never forget that your place is here, with me. Always.”