Okay now in a turn of events, imagine a Kyle who is just totally unaware of how pretty he is, while the rest of the 141 and you are just constantly thirsting.
He’s generally regarded as the prettiest of the group, not to say the rest of you are bad on the eyes either, but Kyle could have definitely pursued modeling if he wanted to.
It’s because of this that the other people on base, anyone you work with, or hell, even randos in bars are far too intimidated by him to ever approach. Which…the rest of you are rather fond of because, in your minds, he’s your Kyle. No people trying to take him away is all the better.
However, this—unbeknownst to you all—contributes to Kyle’s incredibly skewed world view that he is somehow hideous.
In his mind, no one has ever approached him, and everyone just assumes he knows how beautiful he is so why would they need to say it out loud?
This, of course, makes no sense and does not register to the rest of you, because your daily dialogue practically revolves around complementing him to each other.
“God look at his thighs in those pants…” your sitting next to Simon in the mess, waiting for the rest of your crew to make it through the line. You aren’t complaining, though, because you have a great view of Kyle from here. Particularly the way his thigh muscles are straining against his paints and holsters.
“Heard he accidentally shrank ‘em in the dryer. Better for it I say.” Simon adds between mouthfuls.
“Maybe we should shrink all his clothes.” You look at Simon conspiratorially.
There’s a beat where you both ponder.
“Crop top.” You say simultaneously, and then nod together in understanding.
Simon and you were the first two to talk about it together, but you figured Soap might be amenable to the discussion too--what, with the way he looks at him after finishing a particularly hard training session.
He's leaning against the wall, guzzling water, but his gaze stays trained on Kyle and the way his shirt now hangs around his neck to let his skin breathe. It gives the rest of you a perfect look at his sculpted muscles dripping with sweat.
You lean against the wall next to him and he shoves the bottle in your direction without removing his eyes from Kyle. You take his offer and squirt some water in your mouth, back of your hand coming up to wipe the bit dripping down your chin.
"Good view, huh?" You open. Might as well.
He chuckles, "Fockin' understatement of the century, that."
You nudge his shoulder teasingly, "It's a wonder we get anything done with him around."
Soap laughs full-heartedly, "Cap'n can barely contain himself."
This draws your attention, you had thought Price was maybe the only one of you immune to Kyle, even if purely because of his role. "Really?"
Soap finally looks at you, shocked expression visible, "Aye," he emphasizes, "He forgot he was suppose'ta speak in a meeting because he was too busy staring at our pretty boy."
Your eyes widen, eyebrows raising. "No. Way."
You are thrilled to learn your unbreakable captain is not so untouchable after all.
"Ohhh yeah...Captain Price is just as whipped as the rest of us."
You don't notice how the devil himself had pulled up to the water station beside you both until he speaks.
Price scoffs, "Why do you think I plan trainings this intense?"
You whip around, startled that he's been there for some undisclosed amount of time. "Captain!"
He side-eyes you, before also turning back to stare at Kyle. "At ease, sergeant."
You hesitate for a moment, his meaning from before finally finding you. "You...you design our training purely in order to get Kyle sweaty?" You're incredulous, but at the same time can understand your captain perfectly.
"...Pretty much." He doesn't deny it.
You stare for a moment. "Huh," you contemplate, "So you really are as effected as the rest of us."
"Oh yeah, I pop one whenever he enters a room."
"Captain!" You practically scream. You did not need to know that about him.
"What?" He shrugs like you're crazy for being shocked. "Like you lot are any better?"
You scan the room for Simon, who is still doing reps, but is staring at Kyle with what some might interpret as a death-glare. You know his murder eyes and horny eyes are barely distinguishable. Your eyes are glued to Kyle too. "...touché."
Of course Kyle's misunderstanding of his situation means that whenever any of you call him "pretty boy" or anything similar he thinks you're joking.
You'll see if he still thinks that when you finally make good on your locker room talk about him.
