#bunnydrafts

[bunny-extract]

Two lads in a snipers nest passing the time how you’d expect. No homo </3 gaz misses his girl, bad.

Price is on first watch.

Kyle is half propped on his backpack, an arm thrown over his eyes. Lets out a sigh that’s not tired, or idle. Intentional. He doesn’t want to repeat himself.

Price doesn’t look, but he hears it. Knows what it is already.

“Mind if I..?”

It’s polite, which only throws him off internally. Most blokes would be crude, make a show to strip the meaning. Not Kyle.

Price stays facing the ridge line. No privacy up here unless one of them fancies scaling down to the river to get off. He just shrugs. “Your watch is in two hours.”

There’s a puase, then movement. Quiet, though not apologetic.

So Price lights a cigar. Keeps his eyes on the water. Listens.

Hears everything.

The sharp intake of breath, the rhythm turning harsh. Doesn’t stop scanning the water below for wildlife even when breath turns harsh, comes slow through the nose like he’s trying to be quiet about it. Then slick. Filthy and honest and unhidden.

Price doesn’t flinch. He takes a long drag, reaches for his canteen and grabs his flask instead. He’ll ignore his own ache until they change shifts, when it’s his turn to lay down and strip bare a piece of him that still feels human. Can’t blame a man for that.

Price drags.

The minute follows.

Kyle’s not cleaning up.

”Must be some girl you’ve got,” John finally says, voice rough.

There’s a pause before the smirk is in Kyle’s voice, breathless. “Proper gal to the lot, Captain. Sweet as anything. Only time I see that side of her is in public.”

“Sounds like you met you match.”

There’s a stutter, a laugh that gets bitten.

“What gets her like that?”

Kyle must shake his head, fondness curling around the filth. “Can’t hardly keep track, sir. Fuck, talking. Dirty mouth she’s got, puts it to good use. Spells it out real sweet in those letters she sends.”

”That’s what you keep reading, then.”

”Half the time,” Kyle hisses, “Swear she thinks about it ‘s much as I do. Makes it look so pretty when I call her, she loves showing off.” He’s trailing off now, voice pitching low and gravely. “Loves when I watch. Drives her mad that she can’t touch herself like I do.”

Gaz groans, his fist slick. “Gotta make it back to her. Smiles when I fuck her rough, Price, she’s a fuckin’ minx, mate. Sweet things probably losing it by now.”

Kyles voice pitches, a sound that’s almost a gasp. Then the following silence. A loud swallowing.

Price ashes his cigar. The burn in his gut has nothing to do with the drink, but he’ll table that for a later time. Behind him, Kyle exhales like he’s been shaken for all he’s worth, loose limbed and spent.

There’s a long moment before Gaz speaks, but his voice is light. Listing just on the edge of teasing. “Just lettin’ me embarrass myself, then?”

“No witness. Except that mess you’re sitting in.” Price snubs his cigar, watching it fly towards the river. “Next time, aim for the rocks.”

Kyle stands, slow like he’s being rebuilt. “Might as well switch now, then.”

Price laughs, knocking him on the shoulder. “Should I prepare you for parental leave?”

“Christ, don’t give me ideas.”