Title: The Beginning of a Love Affair
Author:
sephirothflame Fandom: Generation Kill
Rating: PG
Character(s)/Pairing(s): PJ Ransone, Alexander Skarsgard, Pawel Szajda, Stark Sands (Alex/Pawel/Stark)
Warning(s): AU
Spoiler(s): None
Prompt(s):
kari_hermione, Alex/Pawel/Stark Companion verse Glitter!
Word Count: 780
Master List:
adventNotes: More
companion ‘verse because I can. Yay, for going to hell.
Summary: PJ buys the boys a present to make up for something he doesn’t entirely remember.
Disclaimer: I do not own Generation Kill. This is a work of fiction inspired by the fictional portrayal of the actual events. No harm intended.
The gift is innocuous enough of and PJ doesn’t think much of it when he picks it up. It’s just a pack of glitter pens - or two, one for each boy - to make up for the fact he upset them the other day. Alex says he’s supposed to be nice to the boys to earn their affections again, but PJ thinks it’s easier to just buy them presents. They’re only suspicious at first but they’re usually thrilled with whatever they get.
Pawel and Stark really like simple things, PJ has come to learn. Things that they apparently didn’t get to play with while they were at the Agency, but PJ’s not complaining. It means it’s easier on his budget in the long run.
Alex lets PJ in when he buzzes, cramming toast in his mouth as he tries to explain to PJ what’s going on. It’s hard to understand, but PJ nods and pretends he does because it’s early and all he really wants is to find out if Alex made enough coffee for him to have.
Then Alex is gone and PJ is left alone in the large house, sipping stupidly fancy coffee that makes his mouth water and flipping through the morning paper at the kitchen bar. He knows the boys are around somewhere, but this early in the morning he bets their curled up in Alex’s bed. PJ is pretty sure they won’t suffocate themselves under the blanket so he lets them be.
The house is quiet for a good hour and a half before the boys giggle and stumble down the stairs. It was nice while it lasted but PJ isn’t entirely surprised that it’s come to an end. Not that Pawel and Stark wouldn’t sit quietly or wander off to another part of the house if PJ asked, but then that’s not the point.
”Uncle PJ,” Pawel says, smiling hesitantly. He looks to Stark, nibbling at his lower lip, but Stark looks just as unsure of how they’re supposed to act around PJ right now. It’s almost ridiculous how hard it is for one of them to do something without the other.
”Relax,” PJ says, and he can’t fight the desire to roll his eyes. He’s not in the mood to watch them squabble silently over what they’re supposed to do. It’s ridiculous how helpless they seem sometimes when Alex isn’t around to tell them what to do. “I brought you a present to say sorry for the other day.”
Both of the boys perk up instantly, turning to PJ with wide eyes. They try to hide their eagerness, but it’s easy to see when they’re suddenly practically vibrating out of their skin in excitement. “A present?” Stark asks.
”Yup,” PJ replies. He picks up the Target bag and holds it out for them to take. He couldn’t be bothered to wrap them but Pawel and Stark don’t seem to mind in the least.
They look at him hesitantly before opening the bag carefully, looking at the glitter pens in confusion. They share a look, something PJ can’t figure out from where he’s sitting, before they turn to look at PJ in unison. “…pens?” Stark asks, cocking his head to the side.
”Glitter pens,” PJ corrects. When they continue to stare at him blankly, PJ rolls his eyes. “You use them to doodle and stuff and they’re sparkly and shit. You know, they’re pretty or whatever.”
Pawel and Stark duck their heads together to whisper conspiringly, and PJ watches just to make sure they don’t pinch or bite each other. They keep glancing between each other, PJ, and the glitter pens before finally nodding and smiling.
”Thank you, Uncle PJ,” Pawel says, smiling brightly.
”Yes,” Stark says simply.
They keep staring at PJ, waiting for something. PJ doesn’t feel like sitting here and figuring it out, so instead he rubs the back of his neck and pushes himself up off of the couch in the den. “How about I go make you some waffles for breakfast and you draw Alex a nice picture or something.”
”Okay,” they both say, holding hands for the brief trip across the den to the shelf Alex bought them to put their stuff on. As simple as that they’ve moved on. It would annoy PJ, but he’s used to it by now.
PJ leaves them to it, because he promised waffles and he already misses the quiet from when the boys were sleeping upstairs after Alex left. And if by the time he’s done making them breakfast and they’re curled together and giggling, covered in colorful smears of glitter on their fingers and exposed skin, that’s totally not PJ’s fault.