You like men ... You didn't really have a problem with it, until you signed up for the army, in a predominantly male environment, with more or less closed minds that want to be men, strong men. So you remained discreet about your preferences, because you're a man, a real man, not a faggot ... then you started to reject it, this part of you, your identity, to repress it, denying that you like men, hiding it as it was a shameful secret. Keeping it for yourself for years, long years, even now, when you've finally managed to join the elite unit, TaskForce 141, you have to fall stupidly in love with your captain. With every interaction, you turn into a blushing mess, stammering, stumbling over your words, as you fail to meet his intense blues orbs, to keep an eye contact more than two second .

As Christmas approaches, the whole base is quivering, you're actively decorating the common room, but you suddenly feel a presence behind you, pressing against your back, you immediately recognize the smell of Price, filling your nostrils, a mix of expensive cigars, and a musky cologne. You blush intensely, as he hangs an ornament above you .... A sprig of mistletoe, a soft gasp escape you , as you look at him , even more blushing. You feel his hand on your chin tilting your face, " It's a tradition darlin' " he says you feels his lips meeting yours softy.