Whiskey Tango Foxtrot
Title: Whiskey Tango Foxtrot (AO3)
Summary: Some AU in college or something. They're in a band.
Fandom: Generation Kill
Characters/Pairings: Ray/Walt, Nate/Brad
Genre: Friendship, gen
Rating: PG-13; swearing
Warnings: Offensive language
Word Count: 390
Author's Notes: For Challenge #38 at writerverse. Band is 21A (two one alpha) and the album is Whiskey Tango Foxtrot. See covers for full tracklist :3 All songs are fictional.
Disclaimer: Based on the fictionalized characters as played by PJ Ransone, Pawel Szajda, Stark Sands, and Alexander Skarsgård in the HBO miniseries, not the real people.
Walt hates it when Ray goes into his room to write, because it means that Ray withdraws into some sort of buzzing realm filled with fake insomniac energy and Ripped Fuel and soda. It also means that Walt doesn't get to share a bed with Ray, his skinny bony hips poking into Walt's side and his nose snuffling snores into Walt's neck, because when Ray writes, he locks his door and doesn't come out until he's done.
It's been three days, Ray's longest yet, and Walt is seriously considering kicking down the door, the stupid picture of Ray flipping any potential intruders the finger taped to under a 'no fucking entry, douchebags' sign be damned. He decides that if Ray's not out after class ends that day, he'll do it.
It turns out that there's no need, because when he enters the apartment, there's Ray on their sofa, stuffing his face with stale cereal and cold milk, his eyes bruised but surprisingly clear. There's a dumb grin on his face, and he points to the stack of papers next to Nate's pile of magazines on the coffee table with his foot.
"I'm done, motherfucker," he says, milk and cornflakes spilling down onto his tank top and jeans. "You all can kiss my talented ass later, especially Brad, after I take a shit."
Walt smiles back, because Ray's happy and out of his room and there and eating and fine. They sit there, watching MTV and insulting all the artists and their music videos, until Ray falls asleep on Walt's shoulder.
Later that night, Brad and Nate come back from their movie and go through the songs while Walt sits Ray down for dinner. Brad doesn't kiss Ray's ass, but is impressed, and starts tuning the guitars. Nate makes a copy of the lyrics and goes through them with a red pen, checking for spelling and grammar errors. There are quite a few.
The next morning, Walt wakes up with Ray breathing into his ear and a tattooed arm across his stomach. There's a neatly typed and filed copy of Ray's lyrics courtesy of Nate on the nightstand. Walt can almost hear the guitar riff accompanying the words to 'Magnanimous', and pulls Ray closer, ignoring the sharp jab of bone to his side.
This is going to be pretty fucking ninja.
21A
BRAD COLBERT
guitar, vocals
NATE FICK
bass, vocals
RAY PERSON
lead vocals
WALT HASSER
drums, vocals
Summary: Some AU in college or something. They're in a band.
Fandom: Generation Kill
Characters/Pairings: Ray/Walt, Nate/Brad
Genre: Friendship, gen
Rating: PG-13; swearing
Warnings: Offensive language
Word Count: 390
Author's Notes: For Challenge #38 at writerverse. Band is 21A (two one alpha) and the album is Whiskey Tango Foxtrot. See covers for full tracklist :3 All songs are fictional.
Disclaimer: Based on the fictionalized characters as played by PJ Ransone, Pawel Szajda, Stark Sands, and Alexander Skarsgård in the HBO miniseries, not the real people.
Walt hates it when Ray goes into his room to write, because it means that Ray withdraws into some sort of buzzing realm filled with fake insomniac energy and Ripped Fuel and soda. It also means that Walt doesn't get to share a bed with Ray, his skinny bony hips poking into Walt's side and his nose snuffling snores into Walt's neck, because when Ray writes, he locks his door and doesn't come out until he's done.
It's been three days, Ray's longest yet, and Walt is seriously considering kicking down the door, the stupid picture of Ray flipping any potential intruders the finger taped to under a 'no fucking entry, douchebags' sign be damned. He decides that if Ray's not out after class ends that day, he'll do it.
It turns out that there's no need, because when he enters the apartment, there's Ray on their sofa, stuffing his face with stale cereal and cold milk, his eyes bruised but surprisingly clear. There's a dumb grin on his face, and he points to the stack of papers next to Nate's pile of magazines on the coffee table with his foot.
"I'm done, motherfucker," he says, milk and cornflakes spilling down onto his tank top and jeans. "You all can kiss my talented ass later, especially Brad, after I take a shit."
Walt smiles back, because Ray's happy and out of his room and there and eating and fine. They sit there, watching MTV and insulting all the artists and their music videos, until Ray falls asleep on Walt's shoulder.
Later that night, Brad and Nate come back from their movie and go through the songs while Walt sits Ray down for dinner. Brad doesn't kiss Ray's ass, but is impressed, and starts tuning the guitars. Nate makes a copy of the lyrics and goes through them with a red pen, checking for spelling and grammar errors. There are quite a few.
The next morning, Walt wakes up with Ray breathing into his ear and a tattooed arm across his stomach. There's a neatly typed and filed copy of Ray's lyrics courtesy of Nate on the nightstand. Walt can almost hear the guitar riff accompanying the words to 'Magnanimous', and pulls Ray closer, ignoring the sharp jab of bone to his side.
This is going to be pretty fucking ninja.
21A
BRAD COLBERT
guitar, vocals
NATE FICK
bass, vocals
RAY PERSON
lead vocals
WALT HASSER
drums, vocals