FIC: ILU (Thunderheart, Ray Levoi/Walter Crow Horse, PG-13)
TITLE: ILU
RATING: PG-13
FANDOM: Thunderheart
PAIRING: Ray Levoi/Walter Crow Horse
SUMMARY: Futurefic. From formanymiles’s prompt: crow horse discovers sexting after they both get new phones with full keyboards!!
One of the perks-or punishments-of being in law enforcement meant being the first to get all sorts of new technologies. Cell phones were fine-they were damned useful, in fact. Ray liked always having a way to find Crow Horse; it was comforting even when he didn’t need anything particular.
Ray had done enough nagging of government offices that Bear Creek was no longer last in line for everything, tax dollar-wise; after a few years of his pestering, they got the idea, and he no longer had to go begging. Which is how he ended up in his current predicament.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with our old phones,” Ray said. He watched Crow Horse open the newest delivery from the FBI office in Rapid, throwing aside all sorts of wasteful, non-biodegradable packaging.
Crow Horse tilted his head as he removed the device from the box. He turned it over in his hands, then flipped the top up, splitting the thing like opening a hot dog bun.
“Shit,” he said. “It’s got a little typewriter.”
Ray’s nose wrinkled. “What for? A phone is for making phone calls.”
Crow Horse chuckled. “Texting, Ray. You can send little messages without having to ring someone up. Like an email, kinda.”
Ray didn’t much care for email, either. “Texting,” he repeated.
“That’s what the kids call it,” Crow Horse said decisively, and Ray fought the urge to roll his eyes.
***
The new phone didn’t have rings that sounded like phones. Ray fought the urge to throw it out his cruiser window every time it trilled with its fake, electronic-sounding chirping. And it beeped. Every time he got one of those “texts,” it made a sound like the smoke alarm.
This fucking thing.
Ray rubbed his eyes; after a few hours sitting on a speed trap, the world got kind of blurry. The phone made its smoke alarm noise, and Ray gritted his teeth and picked it up, looked at the illuminated screen.
CROW HORSE
what r u wearing?
Ray sighed. He poked laboriously at the keys until he’d composed an answer.
RAY
fuck off
CROW HORSE
u spelled “nothing” wrong
RAY
shouldn’t you be sheriffing?
CROW HORSE
take off your pants
Ray rolled his eyes, and threw the phone into the passenger seat. He focused on the radar, on the empty expanse of road before him.
The phone trilled. And chirped. And whined.
Finally, Ray sighed and picked up the damn thing.
CROW HORSE
come on honey
you know these phones got cameras?
take a picture for me
somethin hot
raymond
you cant ifnore me
ignore
raymond
raymond
RAYMOND
Ray ran his tongue over his teeth. He spent a moment puzzling over the camera, finally managing to send Crow Horse a picture of him flipping the bird.
Ray smiled, self-satisfied. For about ten seconds, until the phone beeped again.
CROW HORSE
don’t tease me now honey
also
you mean to send that to your whole address book?
cuz thats what you did
Ray massaged the bridge of his nose. Fucking technology.