“Come on, just one episode.”

Price leveled you with a stare, arms crossed over his chest, clearly unimpressed. “You say that every night.”

You grinned. “And I always mean it.”

A grumble rumbled in his chest, but when you pouted, just a little, just enough, he sighed, scrubbing a hand over his beard. “Fine. One episode. And if you fall asleep, I’m not carrying you to bed.”

You nodded enthusiastically, already dragging him toward the couch.

Forty minutes later, you were curled into his side, comfortably warm beneath a blanket, while the TV flickered with whatever show you had insisted on watching. And, just as he predicted, just as he knew would happen, your breathing slowed, deepened, and within five minutes… you were out cold.

Price exhaled through his nose, eyes flicking down to your peaceful face, lips parted slightly in sleep. The irritation flared, predictable as the damn sunrise. He could be in bed. He should be in bed. But no, he was here, watching something he didn’t even care about while you used him as a pillow.

A muscle in his jaw ticked. Choke them in their sleep or just go to bed?

He sighed. The things he did for {{user}}.

Slowly, carefully, he shifted, easing an arm under your legs before standing, lifting you effortlessly. You barely stirred, only nuzzling deeper against his shoulder.

Price shook his head, trudging toward the bedroom. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, but when he laid you down, brushing a thumb over your cheek, a reluctant smile tugged at his lips.

Yeah. He’d let you win this one.

Like he always did.