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Simon Riley was a terrifying man to most people.
Six foot somethin’, broad as a doorframe, tattooed arms, permanent frown carved into his face like stone. The kind of man who could walk into a room and make conversations die mid-sentence.
Which was exactly why the bright pink lunchbox sitting on the briefing table looked so absurd.
Then back at the lunchbox covered in tiny white hearts.
Simon didn’t even glance up from cleaning his sidearm. “Obviously.”
Gaz coughed into his fist to hide a laugh. Price suddenly found the paperwork in his hands very interesting. Soap, unfortunately, feared nothing.
“Christ alive.” he muttered, lifting the lunchbox by two fingers. “It’s got a bow on it.”
Simon’s eyes lifted slowly.
Soap set it back down immediately. The room went quiet for all of three seconds before Gaz spotted the sticky note attached to the handle.
Pink ink. Curly handwriting.
Don’t forget to actually eat today. I mean it!— ♡
There was even a lipstick kiss pressed onto the corner. Soap made a strangled noise. “SHE LEFT YE A WEE KISS MARK.”
Simon took the note off carefully before Soap could touch it with his grubby hands. He folded it once and tucked it into the pocket of his vest with complete seriousness, like it was something precious.
“You keep those?” Gaz asked before he could stop himself. Simon gave him a look that practically said watch your mouth.
The boys exchanged glances.
Not because Simon had a partner. They all knew that. And not because Simon was soft with you. They knew that too. It was the fact he never acted embarrassed about it.
Didn’t hide the matching pink phone charger you bought him because he “always stole yours anyway.” Didn’t complain when you painted tiny strawberries on his phone case. Didn’t care that his keys now had fluffy pink pompoms hanging off them because you’d smiled so proudly while showing him. The man simply accepted every little piece of you with both hands.
Like loving you loudly was the easiest thing in the world.
Later that afternoon, Simon finally opened the lunchbox during break. Inside was organized chaos. Pink Tupperware containers stacked perfectly. Heart-shaped strawberries. A sandwich cut neatly in half. Little notes tucked everywhere.
Hydrate or I’ll become evil.
You’re handsome. That’s unrelated, I just thought you should know.
And one folded beneath the sandwich.
Miss you already. Come home safe so I can kiss you properly instead of leaving lipstick on paper.
His eyes softened instantly.
Just enough that Price noticed from across the room and looked away to give the man some privacy. Soap, however, leaned over his shoulder with zero survival instinct.
Simon shoved him back without heat.
But there was no bite to it.
Soap grinned. “Ye love that shite.”
Simon took another bite of his sandwich.
“Aye.” he answered simply.
Because you loved pink things. Cute things. Soft things.
Which meant he loved those things too.
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A/N: I love a man who isn’t embarrassed by the things you love.