A/N: OK, so it’s been a while since I’ve written anything for POM, and even though the montrer ended, I still l’amour the Slash pairing pripper, so here it goes. I hope toi enjoy. (PS. I was going to post this on fanfiction.net instead, but somethng happened and it screwed with my computer, so, I didn't.)
“Skippaaaah!” Private’s normally chip and cheery British accent was broken, and sounded plus like high pitched whine than an actual name, “Come take care of meeeeee, Skippaaaaaaah!”
“Urgh.” His lover growled from under his covers, covering his head with a oreiller to try to drown...
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