Good Cookies: Prompt and Fill Post, Round Two
Good Cookie, definition: 1. Marine Corps Good Conduct Medal; 2. Generation Kill fanworks created for YAGKYAS. Can include short (under 1000 words) ficlets, drabbles, drawables, mixtapes, fanart, whatever!
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As he scans the room looking for the fucking thing, Nate pokes his head out of the shower. He looks about fifteen years younger, hair plastered to the side of his face and color staining his cheeks. "Are you planning on having a night, or a night?" he asks, and for a second Brad forgets how to reply. He wants to brush the water from Nate's eyes and simultaneously wants to roll his own at the sap.
He grunts a little, tearing his eyes from Nate to look around the room for the third time. "Not sure yet," he says, sticking his hands in the pockets of his cargoes to see if the watch is in there. "Manimal is in town, so the night could go either way."
Nate laughs. "Come the fuck on," he protests. "We both know this night is going to end with vomit, blood, jail, or a heady cocktail of all three. I'll pull out the bail money."
Brad put his hands out in front of himself in protest. "It could just be blood and vomit," he says. "You never know."
Nate arches an eyebrow at him, and Brad is overcome by the sincere desire to lick the crease away. More than once Brad has considered having Nate's skin tested for addictive substances.
Brad blows out a breath. "Seriously, though, I am definitely going to be late and the late motherfucker always buys the round. Have you seen my watch?"
Nate's smile dips a little more into the devil than the angel, and he reaches back behind him. His hand comes over the shower rod, holding Brad's thoroughly soaked diver's watch. "You mean this watch?" he says, faux-innocently. "Now I can't imagine how it got in here. Very weird."
Brad takes a step forward, and the watch disappears back behind the shower curtain. "Nate," he says, hearing the thread of a whine in his voice and manfully choosing to ignore it.
"It needs to be tested, Brad," Nate admonishes. "How can you really know it's waterproof until you've tested it out?"
Brad looks at him with displeasure. "I'm pretty sure that time I had that 200 meter training mission off Catalina was a sufficient test point, Nate."
Nate mock-frowns. "You have to be sure," he said. "Why don't you come in here and we'll test it together?" He smiles again, and Brad groans.
He smiles wider when Brad started to unbuckle his belt.
"I don't know what it is with you and making me late," Brad grumbles, "but it has seriously got to stop. This is the third time I've been late for a function this month."
Nate's wet hand comes out to grasp his undershirt and reel him in. "Now why on earth would I stop?" he murmurs into Brad's mouth, and Brad ducks under the spray and into the kiss.
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I love how playful they are with each other here.
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