Christmas on base was really just an excuse to get black-out drunk and not have to get deployed the next day mid-hangover. Still, it was nice to be surrounded by your teammates, especially when everyone was in a high-spirited festive mood.

Hell, even Ghost was helping pin up decorations, even if he was getting chewed out by Soap the entire time for putting them up lopsided. At some point, it became obvious that Ghost was doing it on purpose to watch the Scot groan and huff with irritation.

Gaz was sat at a table playing cards with Rudy, Alejandro, and Laswell. And stood in front of you was Price. He was grinning ear to ear, telling you a story from high school about the time he got his crush for a Secret Santa project and ended up completely messing everything up. You were engrossed in the story, thanks mainly to the spiked egg nog you were sipping on making Price’s story a lot more interesting than you might’ve thought otherwise.

“Oi, cap’,” Gaz’s voice had Price’s voice faltering. He tilted his chin up to move his gaze from you to Gaz. Price’s eyes narrowed as a mischievous smirk smeared across his face, his index rising to point up to the ceiling. Price was confused at first… until he looked up.

Hanging above the two of you was a mistletoe, strung up by red and green tinsel. Price’s face of genuine shock had the room erupting into laughter. Everyone except the two of you anyway. He looked back down at you, though he struggled to meet your gaze. “Who the hell puts a mistletoe in the middle of the bloody room?!” He huffed, the tips of his ears beginning to burn a bright red.

Price wasn’t going to push anything onto you. Though… he didn’t move. Maybe he felt frozen with all the eyes on him, maybe deep down– very deep down… he sort of wished you would kiss him.