A/N: Short chapter because I'm getting back into writing again. I'm aiming for a chapter every month. Next chapter will be longer. Requests will be open again next chapter as well.
Kyou: Yeah, it did actually. Just a few drabbles. I wanted to clean up a bit and I just placed my favorite drabbles in the last chapter.
And for the person who asked for SavioxPrivate, prepare to see that next chapter!
Special:
As they laid there in the darkness, watching the pinpricks of light from the glow-in-the-dark stars Private had glued to the ceiling (it helps him sleep, he says, it makes the room feel less alone) the muffled noises in the kitchen, where Rico and Kowalski were washing up, quiet conversations floating over, wrapping them in a sort of homely peace.
Private lay awake, listening to the quiet chatter and the clang of the dishes as they were being put away and the soft, rhythmic breathing of the man next to him. Their sides were pressed together and the warmth was as comforting as anything else.
Skipper's arm was wrapped around him protectively – or, possessively even, as the leader tends to get when alone with him. In front of the world, he puts on a stoic, untouchable façade, but once they're alone, Skipper pulls him close, always holds his hand or his waist, silently reminding him he's Skipper's and Skipper's alone.
Private didn't mind it, it made him happy, to have someone want to protect him like that. It made him feel special, and that was something Skipper was always good at.
Making him feel special, and loved.
Sing:
Nothing was as startling as hearing Savio Carneszaros singing merrily in the back kitchen of his fancy little restaurant.
Yes, the cannibal owns a restaurant.
It's not hard to imagine what sort of dinner is being served there, but his guests remain painfully unaware. And if they were to figure it out…well. Mostly, they'd end up for the next main course the following days.
But Clemson knew, and Hans, and most of the villains, as they've been close enough one time or another to know such things.
No one would risk their lives revealing Savio's morbid plans, though.
He had quite the temper.
That's why it was odd seeing the normal creepy, sadistic manhunter whistle such a cheerful tune as he kneaded the dough and stirred a savory smelling soup cooking on the stove.
He hummed to himself as he grabbed the salt and added a few shakes of it in the pot, sung a little tune as he brought the spoon to his mouth to taste it, then smiled a wide, genuine smile of pride as he shut off the stove and picked the pot.
However, Savio froze when he noticed Clemson there in the doorway, watching him silently.
Clemson stared back, suddenly fearing for his life.
What if he made Savio angry by watching him cook and sing? You can never know with him.
But, to his utter and honest surprise, Savio simply blushed and murmured something under his breath, before hurrying away to fill the soup into bowls.
Rest:
"Kowalski," Marlene sighed.
Shaking her head in disapproval, she stepped further into the messy lab, where her boyfriend sat, ink smudging his cheek and fingertips.
All around him were balled up, torn up, burnt analysis of his latest experiments.
"I can't do it," he half sobbed, ripping off a new paper from his clipboard, crumbling it up and throwing it into the corner with the others.
"I can't- I'm a failure I can't do the simplest jobs I'm pathetic, so pathetic, Blowhole was right I'm just a delusional mad scientist why do you even love-"
He was silenced with a hand over his mouth.
"Shhh," Marlene said gently. "You're a genius, Kowalski. You're just exhausted. Come, let's go to bed now. And I promise you, things will look better in the morning."
After a beat, Kowalski slumped, his eyes already glazing over with fatigue. He nodded meekly, letting Marlene lead him out of his lab and back into their room.