A Kind of Praise by Jojo
They are casual, their shoulders bumping as they wander off to carry out their orders for the night watch. Pablo and SAS. You coined the nicknames yourself, like you've done for most of the squad. Bleeding obvious, wasn't it, when one of them liked painting and the other one was a soldier. Pablo and his soldado. They can't help a wistful look at each other. Bloody bastards. You hate them for it.
Handy Pandy, Out Goes the Rat by Rimy
I don't remember what I said, if anything; most likely I just stood there admiring him. Mismatched cheekbones gave his face a fascinating asymmetry. He was the stuff the dirtiest weekends are made of.
"Good shooting, though," he added as he strode off.
Never one to fail to appreciate a beautiful backside, I turned and watched him walk away.
A voice spoke behind me, so close I felt the stir of air on the back of my neck. "Put your hand on that, mate, you'll draw back a stump."
Witchery: Tale of the Carbon Wars by Verlaine:
Bodie had leaned back in his chair, fingers laced behind his head, a broad smirk on his face. "Lucky Raymond. Under fifty, warm and comes across--"
"Shut it, Bodie!" Doyle snarled.
The smirk on Bodie's face grew even broader, but there was something in the way his eyes skimmed over me that spoke of anger, pain, loss.
So that's the way the wind blows, is it? I thought. Well, we'll see.