Generation Kill Ficlet
Feb. 6th, 2011 11:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
annundrielReposting.
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ember_firedrake and sephirothflame:
This never happened in Iraq. Nate wouldn’t let it. Not that Brad ever made any overtures, but it was there all the same. This thing hanging between them in significant looks and drawn out silences.
There’s nothing stopping them now, not really. Nothing stopping Brad from crowding Nate against the inside of Nate’s front door, nothing stopping Nate from letting him.
Brad’s hands are large and hot and distracting, pulling Nate’s focus from Brad’s mouth finally—finally—on his own to the trails Brad’s fingers are blazing on his hips, under his shirt. Nate’s skin feels too tight, his chest too full, his cock hard and heavy between his legs. Brad’s hard, too; Nate can feel him through the layers of their clothing. He groans, pulling away from Brad’s mouth, head thudding against the wall. “Fuck, Brad.”
Brad chuckles, the sound low, vibrating through Nate. “Later, sir.”
Nate opens his mouth to protest, to insist that of all places, of all times, here he should be Nate, but Brad’s hand is slipping beneath the waistband of Nate’s underwear and there’s nothing in Nate’s head but fuck and yes and Brad.
Long, strong fingers wrap around Nate’s cock and Nate moans, pushing his hips into Brad, seeking more, so much more. The hint of teeth against his skin when Brad grins into his throat makes Nate shudder, tilt his head to the side, offer Brad more room. Brad nips at his Adam’s apple, licks at the hint of stubble Nate’s allowed now, and flexes his fingers on Nate’s cock.
“Knew you’d be like this.” Brad’s voice is thick and rough as he strokes Nate. Then angle must be awkward, but Brad doesn’t seem to care, rubbing himself against Nate’s hip.
Nate’s hands slip from the small of Brad’s back down to his ass. “Knew?” he asks, pulling Brad closer, hands encouraging.
“Hoped,” Brad says, hand disappearing from Nate’s cock as he pulls away far enough to look Nate in the eye, gaze unwavering.
After a moment, he leans back in to suck Nate’s lower lip between his own, and then he’s manhandling Nate, pulling Nate’s shirt up and off, pushing Nate’s pants and underwear down.
Before Nate can really register what’s happening, Brad’s back, his own shirt gone, shorts pushed out of the way, cock hard against Nate’s bare belly, tucked next to Nate’s cock. Brad sighs into his mouth, one hand slipping to Nate’s ass, holding him steady, the other pressed against the wall near Nate’s head.
Brad rocks against him, painting Nate’s skin with precome as Nate clutches at him, leaves finger-shaped bruises on Brad’s shoulders, his back. Later—fuck, there’ll be a later—Nate wants to spread Brad on his sheets and follow those bruises, mark the exact location of each one with his mouth. Brad will squirm against the bed and let him, Nate’s assured of this.
Sliding a hand downward, Nate slips his fingers between Brad’s cheeks to press against his hole, feels Brad’s muscles stutter and clench against him.
“Nate,” Brad gasps against his mouth, come smearing on Nate’s belly. “Nate.”
That’s all it takes to push Nate over; Brad pressed so tight against him, his name on Brad’s lips. Nate groans and holds on, doesn’t intend on loosening his grip until he absolutely has to.
From the way Brad’s slumped against him, lips trailing over the curve where Nate’s shoulder meets his neck, Nate’s sure he won’t have to for a very long time.
For
ember_firedrake and sephirothflame:This never happened in Iraq. Nate wouldn’t let it. Not that Brad ever made any overtures, but it was there all the same. This thing hanging between them in significant looks and drawn out silences.
There’s nothing stopping them now, not really. Nothing stopping Brad from crowding Nate against the inside of Nate’s front door, nothing stopping Nate from letting him.
Brad’s hands are large and hot and distracting, pulling Nate’s focus from Brad’s mouth finally—finally—on his own to the trails Brad’s fingers are blazing on his hips, under his shirt. Nate’s skin feels too tight, his chest too full, his cock hard and heavy between his legs. Brad’s hard, too; Nate can feel him through the layers of their clothing. He groans, pulling away from Brad’s mouth, head thudding against the wall. “Fuck, Brad.”
Brad chuckles, the sound low, vibrating through Nate. “Later, sir.”
Nate opens his mouth to protest, to insist that of all places, of all times, here he should be Nate, but Brad’s hand is slipping beneath the waistband of Nate’s underwear and there’s nothing in Nate’s head but fuck and yes and Brad.
Long, strong fingers wrap around Nate’s cock and Nate moans, pushing his hips into Brad, seeking more, so much more. The hint of teeth against his skin when Brad grins into his throat makes Nate shudder, tilt his head to the side, offer Brad more room. Brad nips at his Adam’s apple, licks at the hint of stubble Nate’s allowed now, and flexes his fingers on Nate’s cock.
“Knew you’d be like this.” Brad’s voice is thick and rough as he strokes Nate. Then angle must be awkward, but Brad doesn’t seem to care, rubbing himself against Nate’s hip.
Nate’s hands slip from the small of Brad’s back down to his ass. “Knew?” he asks, pulling Brad closer, hands encouraging.
“Hoped,” Brad says, hand disappearing from Nate’s cock as he pulls away far enough to look Nate in the eye, gaze unwavering.
After a moment, he leans back in to suck Nate’s lower lip between his own, and then he’s manhandling Nate, pulling Nate’s shirt up and off, pushing Nate’s pants and underwear down.
Before Nate can really register what’s happening, Brad’s back, his own shirt gone, shorts pushed out of the way, cock hard against Nate’s bare belly, tucked next to Nate’s cock. Brad sighs into his mouth, one hand slipping to Nate’s ass, holding him steady, the other pressed against the wall near Nate’s head.
Brad rocks against him, painting Nate’s skin with precome as Nate clutches at him, leaves finger-shaped bruises on Brad’s shoulders, his back. Later—fuck, there’ll be a later—Nate wants to spread Brad on his sheets and follow those bruises, mark the exact location of each one with his mouth. Brad will squirm against the bed and let him, Nate’s assured of this.
Sliding a hand downward, Nate slips his fingers between Brad’s cheeks to press against his hole, feels Brad’s muscles stutter and clench against him.
“Nate,” Brad gasps against his mouth, come smearing on Nate’s belly. “Nate.”
That’s all it takes to push Nate over; Brad pressed so tight against him, his name on Brad’s lips. Nate groans and holds on, doesn’t intend on loosening his grip until he absolutely has to.
From the way Brad’s slumped against him, lips trailing over the curve where Nate’s shoulder meets his neck, Nate’s sure he won’t have to for a very long time.
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(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-07 11:18 pm (UTC)Whoa.
Extremely scorching, bb. Now I'm needing to rewatch GK IMMEDIATELY.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-08 10:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-08 04:47 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-10 01:26 am (UTC)So happy that you love it! <3