Disclaimer: *checks bank account* Nope, not mine. No harm, no foul.
Author's note: Rated for mild language and mild adult themes. These are one-shots. They're just a very quick chapter for each of the guys, thinking about women.
Enjoy!
B.A. loved the look of women.
Well duh. Most straight men did.
But beneath the gruff exterior, B.A. loved the stark contrast of femininity. He loved the light perfume some wore, the lacy or frilly outfits, the silky undergarments and flimsy shoes. He knew some guys liked the more rough-and-tumble hard-ass women that were common in the military. Not him. He liked soft and delicate and sweet.
Those women—the petite ones, the demure ones—were difficult to find. Nigh impossible on base, and it wasn't much easier when they got back to the States. It was hard to meet women when stuck with three other guys, living out of seedy motels most of the time.
You could always pay for it, of course, but that wasn't B.A.'s cup of tea either. It was better if it was real, and hookers weren't ever real. They were only what you wanted them to be.
So he was patient. He was young, he knew the statistics that said that a large majority of people had serious relationships (he wasn't sure if those "random samplings of the populous" included ex-Army Rangers-slash-federal fugitives, but he hoped), and eventually he figured something would come his way.
And when it did! Oh, he'd treat her right—from her styled hair to her French manicured toes. He'd baby her and care for her and she'd have him wrapped around her little finger.
He couldn't wait.