Team Night, Prompt: Ceasefire, I felt you coming asyou drew near
Title: I felt you coming as you drew near
By: pabandyk
Prompt: Ceasefire - A temporary stoppage of a war in which each side agrees with the other to suspend aggressive actions. Also referred to as a 'truce'.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based upon the fictionalized characters and events from the HBO series.
Warnings: None
Summary: Nate is an angel tasked with protecting Walt’s soul. Someone else has a different idea.
A/N: Huge thank you to kahtyasofia for her awesome beta skills, especially where wayward commas were concerned.
Nate hasn’t been in heaven for long, maybe a hundred years, or so. He could no longer say. When you have an eternity in front of you, time slows down. It ambles and flows in small bursts; it stops and stretches like a never ending river of days, all flowing into each other.
Nothing eventful usually happens in heaven. The only source of amusement for heavenly hosts is the antics of the humans they’re supposed to watch over. People are, without a doubt, entertaining but, ultimately predictable. Spend a couple hundred years watching over them and you’ll have seen it all: the hope, the despair, the bloody battles wrought in the name of god that mean so much down there, but is nothing but a blip in millennia of an angel’s existence.
You could be forgiven for thinking the heavenly existence was a tiny bit tedious. Nate doesn’t let himself go down that road. He enjoys his role as a guardian of human souls. Even after decades of witnessing all the scrabbling, lies and petty fights, Nate’s belief in the decency and strength of the human spirit remains unshakable. Given the task of pulling some poor, unsuspecting soul towards a higher state of being, Nate usually manages it with minimal effort.
Which is probably why, Nate suspects, he’s been given this new mission of guarding the soul of one Walt Hasser, who was due to join the Angelic Corps soon. Nate flicks through Walt’s life and wonders why the mission is such a big deal. An honest, open, straightforward country kid, Walt hasn’t even stolen a packet of sweets from the corner shop. So why had Griego sniggered when the mission was given to Nate? As far as Nate could tell, Command really wants Walt to join the heavenly guard and whoever brings him in will be held in the highest regard. Not that chasing glory ever mattered to Nate.
Nate does as he always did when intel doesn’t make much sense and seeks out Mike. Mike has spent centuries in heaven, keeping his head down, getting on with his job, and never once looking for glory. Straight talking, well versed in heavenly politics and human frailties, Mike has proven himself to be indispensable as Nate’s second in command. Mike listens calmly to Nate’s report on his new mission:
“That sounds very easy. Did they tell you where the threat to this kid’s soul is coming from?”
“Command said Walt has just met Ray and he has to be stopped before his soul suffers irreparable damage.”
“Ray?” Mike whistles, “So this is your big test, Nate.”
“I can see Walt’s soul as clear as if he were standing in front of me and I tell you, Mike, there are very few souls as spotless as his.”
“That might be so, but Ray…” Mike trails off, seemingly unsure of how to continue.
“Who is this Ray individual and why is everyone so afraid of him?”
Nate feels unease start to gnaw at a spot somewhere low in his stomach. In all the decades they’ve spent together he’s never seen Mike at a loss for words. Mike stares into the distance, emotions chasing each other across his face too quick for Nate to decipher. So Nate just stands next to him. Silent. Watching. Waiting. If patience, as they claim, was a virtue, then Nathaniel Fick was very virtuous indeed.
Mike looks around to ensure there’s nobody lurking nearby and, even though it’s only the two of them as far as eyes can see, he lowers his voice and turns back to face Nate.
“What have you heard about The Fallen?”
The Fallen. Nate has heard the rumours, stories told in whispers for fear of being overheard. It was a cautionary tale of a band of rebels who had succumbed to the Cardinal sins and, subsequently, were banished from heaven for all of eternity. Nate has always assumed it was just a bit of heavenly folklore meant to keep new angels from getting into too much trouble with Command.
Mike’s laugh is dark and humourless, “Folklore? No, Nate, The Fallen are every bit as real as you and me. If it is indeed true that Ray has decided he wants your human’s soul, you’re in for the hardest battle you have ever faced.”
“Your confidence in me is touching.” Nate feels his eyes narrow and he turns his officer glare on Mike. Then he smiles..
“I have seen you in action, I am assured of your abilities, Lieutenant.” Mike stays serious, refusing to be swayed by Nate’s charm. ”In fact, if there’s anyone who can win this battle it’s you. It’s just…”
Nate can see Mike thinking, weighing each word in his head.
“Don’t let first impressions lull you into a false sense of security.”
With Mike’s cheerful bit of parting advice, Nate finds himself walking along a dimly lit street. The rain has just stopped falling, the pavement glistens with hundreds of street lights reflecting in the puddles underneath his feet. It’s times like these that Nate misses being on earth. Those tiny shards of beauty amongst surrounding darkness have always spoken to him of unending hope.
He can feel the pull of Walt’s soul ahead of him. Nate enters the college library, slipping silently past the staff and scattered groups of students, desperately trying to cram bits of information they couldn’t be bothered to learn all semester. Nate grins to himself. It feels like coming home. He knows he’s going to find Walt pouring earnestly over his textbooks. Despite all of Mike’s warnings, he does not expect to meet any of The Fallen in a college library a week before finals. It’s in the student bars following the exams where Nate expects to fight his battle. A whirlwind of temptation on offer after weeks of slaving over books would be irresistible even to the cleanest of souls.
“I’m telling you you’re wasting your time here, homes. The only reason for anyone to subject himself to years of wine-sipping, liberal dicksucks spouting bullshit disguised as a college education is to pick up pussy. I mean, shit, homes, just look at all the hotties in this cesspool of debauchery otherwise known as the liberal arts department.” A scrawny dark figure is sitting next to Walt, flipping through a textbook with disdain. “But no, you had to go and pick the geekiest subject in the universe. Computer engineering? What the fuck, homes? You ain’t gonna get any street cred studying this shit.”
Walt glances at his companion with exaggerated patience though, Nate can see a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Not everybody chooses their subjects according to how much action it’s going to attract. Some of us actually want to learn, Ray.”
Ray. Nate steps back into the shadows of the stacks to continue his observation unnoticed. Despite all Mike’s warnings, he can feel a tiny streak of incredulity running through his mind. Could this wiry young man, who appears to have no control over his mouth and a complete inability to sit still for one moment, really be the reason Command is so worried about Walt’s soul? He looks like a college kid, somebody who would fit right into the same liberal arts department he’s currently disparaging with a complete disregard for everyone else trying to study. Still, Nate has always trusted Mike’s judgement and his advice about first impressions is still ringing loud and clear in his mind.
He plucks a book off the nearest bookshelf, shoves it under his arm and walks up to their table looking, for all the world, like an earnest college student.
“Excuse me gentlemen, but this is a library and I’m sure everyone would appreciate it if you could show some restraint and share your wisdom quietly, however invaluable you think your input is.”
Dark eyes flick over Nate, disinterested.
“Whatever, homes, it’s not like any of these pussies are here for any other reason but to get their cocks wet…”
Walt slaps his hand over Ray’s face, effectively muting him, and gives an apologetic grin to Nate.
“I’m sorry, Ray sometimes forgets where he is. We didn’t mean to disturb anybody.”
Under Walt’s hand, Ray’s mouth is still moving, clearly disagreeing with the statement.
“I’ll make sure he stays quiet.”
Nate nods at Walt politely and quickly turns around to hide a smile at the way Ray raises his eyebrows in challenge. “Not a college kid,” he reminds himself silently. Nate needs to step away and reassess the situation. It is clear from Walt’s easy demeanor around Ray it’s not the first time they’ve met. It would appear Ray has managed to infiltrate Walt’s life without much effort. Despite that fact, Nate steps back into the dark of summer’s night, quite pleased with his little recon mission. He managed to observe his charge and scope out the threat without raising any suspicions. He’s mentally running a check on Walt’s soul for any indication that time spent with Ray is starting to have an effect. As far as Nate can see, it’s still warm and bright and unshakably solid.
“Shit, homes, I didn’t know Command was so desperate it started sending college kids to fight their battles.” an amused voice drawls out behind him.
Nate turns to face Ray who’s leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, dark eyes intent on Nate.
“I didn’t know that things have gotten so bad for the mighty Fallen they’ve taken to hanging around college libraries trying to lure unsuspecting kids into their ranks.”
With that, Ray pushes off the wall and squares up to Nate, easy buddy routine suddenly forgotten.
“Stay away from Walt.”
There’s no mistaking a threat in his voice and Nate can feel his wings twitch in response, wanting to unfold. He stills himself, desperate to keep up the pretence for the sake of any unsuspecting humans passingby.
“It seems to me that you have spent too much time on earth, oh mighty Fallen, and have forgotten we are not some poor, easily intimidated souls. Do not mistake me for a liberal college kid, Ray.”
“Wise words, Lieutenant. Though I wouldn’t waste your breath. Along with a chronic inability to shut his mouth, Ray also has a complete disregard for anybody in a position of authority, which makes him a particularly cruel and unusual punishment for all my sins.”
“Fuck you, Brad. You know you love your Ray-Ray.”
Nate spins around to face the newcomer and a frisson runs up and down his spine, icy hot, that has nothing to do with danger. Nate has been in heaven long enough to have seen plenty of angelic beauty. The warriors of ancient Greece, like Rudy, with their perfectly sculpted bodies. The recent recruits, like Q-tip, whose dimples and impish smile could cause poets to spout romantic nonsense into the next millennia. In all that time, however, he has never met anyone as imposing as The Fallen standing before him. Nate is certain Brad had entered heaven in the days it had been called Valhalla. There is something ancient, dark and dangerous burning deep in the calm stare of his blue eyes and Nate can feel the sudden chill of unforgiving Nordic winters emanating from him as Brad looks at him for one long moment. Time slows and stretches. Nate can see him observing, calculating, assessing the threat. Whatever he sees makes Brad grin a toothy grin that shoots across Nate’s body and buries itself somewhere deep inside. Nate raises his chin at the blatant challenge.
“Call off your minion.”
He’s relieved to hear none of the confusion, heat and other emotions, Nate’s afraid to name, currently somersaulting through him are evident in his voice.
Somewhere to his left he can hear Ray starting to splutter with indignation.
“Minion? I’m not his fucking minion…”
“Ray.” Brad’s voice is level and calm.
“Whatever, homes, Walt is mine, I’m not giving him up because a first year recruit from an angelic choir says so! I saw him first!”
“Ray!” The command in Brad’s voice is unmistakable. “Go bother someone else with your inane babbling.”
Nate doesn’t hear Ray leave but he can tell the exact moment he’s left facing Brad on his own.
“What do you want with Walt?” Nate knows how much Command wants Walt in heaven and thinks the boy must be an important part of a bigger plan. That must be the reason why The Fallen are after him.
“Me? Couldn’t care less about the kid but Ray is bored.” Brad’s smirk flashes weary amusement. “He wants someone new to play with.”
“You’re planning to subject an innocent human to eternal damnation just because one of you is bored?” Nate has to work hard to keep the anger out of his voice.
“Seems like an easier option than subjecting myself to centuries of Ray’s whining.”
“Never would have thought you’d go for the easy option.”
Brad steps up to him, menacing, dangerous. It probably isn’t a good idea to taunt one of The Fallen. Nate feels his wings bristle. Brad is standing so close they’re practically touching. If Nate lifts his hand just a fraction, he could run his fingers over Brad’s arm where the hairs are fine and blond, like they’ve been bleached by a midday sun. Nate snatches the thought before it veers into dangerous territory. Brad smirks again.
“So what does Command want with pure, innocent Walt?” He drawls the words pure and innocent with eyes fixed on Nate’s mouth.
Nate can feel himself flushing.
“The full details of the plan weren’t disclosed to me. I’m sure Walt is an important part of a bigger picture.”
“Maybe there is no bigger picture. Have you thought about that? You’re going to make young Walt join the ranks of the pure, the beautiful and the dull before he’s even had his first kiss.”
Nate wonders how Brad knows. He wonders whether he or Ray has plans to rectify the situation. He thinks about his own first kiss, long ago, awkward and fumbling, hesitant, a little desperate and oh so hot. Brad’s mouth quirks at the corner, like he can read Nate’s mind. The desire to take a step forward and wipe that smirk off with his mouth flares warm and bright. Nate breathes in and out - a calm steady rhythm - and forces himself to stay still.
“It seems to me you are no better than us, subjecting Walt to an eternity of boredom before he’s even lived. Have you lived, Lieutenant?”
The teasing in Brad’s voice is unmistakable, prickling Nate’s skin, seeping inside, waking the memories Nate had shoved and buried in the deep corners of his soul a hundred years ago. Memories of skin and gentle touch, of mouths colliding and hot exhales against his neck, of tremors racing and demanding kisses, of hot and yes and please and more.
“I think we should give him a choice.” Nate can hear his voice, thick and heavy, like he’s been awakened from a sleep and isn’t fully alert, yet. “I think Walt should choose for himself what he wants to do with his life.”
Brad sighs a much put upon sigh.
“Ray isn’t going to be happy when I tell him to stay away from his little boyfriend. My life will be hell.”
His eyes flash, dark, amused blue. “I hope you’re planning to repay me, Lieutenant.”
“You’re very quiet for somebody who just completed a successful mission.”
“I didn’t win the war, Mike, I negotiated the peace.”
And possibly started another war. The thought remains unspoken. Nate looks at the city bellow him - laughing, sleeping, fighting, dreaming, hoping - and thinks about a thousand nights stretching into one.
“Brad says hello.” Nate’s voice is soft and still. Devoid of all emotion. A sharp intake of breath lets him know he’s fooling no one.
“Be careful, Nate. Lust is a sin.”
Poll
By: pabandyk
Prompt: Ceasefire - A temporary stoppage of a war in which each side agrees with the other to suspend aggressive actions. Also referred to as a 'truce'.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based upon the fictionalized characters and events from the HBO series.
Warnings: None
Summary: Nate is an angel tasked with protecting Walt’s soul. Someone else has a different idea.
A/N: Huge thank you to kahtyasofia for her awesome beta skills, especially where wayward commas were concerned.
Nate hasn’t been in heaven for long, maybe a hundred years, or so. He could no longer say. When you have an eternity in front of you, time slows down. It ambles and flows in small bursts; it stops and stretches like a never ending river of days, all flowing into each other.
Nothing eventful usually happens in heaven. The only source of amusement for heavenly hosts is the antics of the humans they’re supposed to watch over. People are, without a doubt, entertaining but, ultimately predictable. Spend a couple hundred years watching over them and you’ll have seen it all: the hope, the despair, the bloody battles wrought in the name of god that mean so much down there, but is nothing but a blip in millennia of an angel’s existence.
You could be forgiven for thinking the heavenly existence was a tiny bit tedious. Nate doesn’t let himself go down that road. He enjoys his role as a guardian of human souls. Even after decades of witnessing all the scrabbling, lies and petty fights, Nate’s belief in the decency and strength of the human spirit remains unshakable. Given the task of pulling some poor, unsuspecting soul towards a higher state of being, Nate usually manages it with minimal effort.
Which is probably why, Nate suspects, he’s been given this new mission of guarding the soul of one Walt Hasser, who was due to join the Angelic Corps soon. Nate flicks through Walt’s life and wonders why the mission is such a big deal. An honest, open, straightforward country kid, Walt hasn’t even stolen a packet of sweets from the corner shop. So why had Griego sniggered when the mission was given to Nate? As far as Nate could tell, Command really wants Walt to join the heavenly guard and whoever brings him in will be held in the highest regard. Not that chasing glory ever mattered to Nate.
Nate does as he always did when intel doesn’t make much sense and seeks out Mike. Mike has spent centuries in heaven, keeping his head down, getting on with his job, and never once looking for glory. Straight talking, well versed in heavenly politics and human frailties, Mike has proven himself to be indispensable as Nate’s second in command. Mike listens calmly to Nate’s report on his new mission:
“That sounds very easy. Did they tell you where the threat to this kid’s soul is coming from?”
“Command said Walt has just met Ray and he has to be stopped before his soul suffers irreparable damage.”
“Ray?” Mike whistles, “So this is your big test, Nate.”
“I can see Walt’s soul as clear as if he were standing in front of me and I tell you, Mike, there are very few souls as spotless as his.”
“That might be so, but Ray…” Mike trails off, seemingly unsure of how to continue.
“Who is this Ray individual and why is everyone so afraid of him?”
Nate feels unease start to gnaw at a spot somewhere low in his stomach. In all the decades they’ve spent together he’s never seen Mike at a loss for words. Mike stares into the distance, emotions chasing each other across his face too quick for Nate to decipher. So Nate just stands next to him. Silent. Watching. Waiting. If patience, as they claim, was a virtue, then Nathaniel Fick was very virtuous indeed.
Mike looks around to ensure there’s nobody lurking nearby and, even though it’s only the two of them as far as eyes can see, he lowers his voice and turns back to face Nate.
“What have you heard about The Fallen?”
The Fallen. Nate has heard the rumours, stories told in whispers for fear of being overheard. It was a cautionary tale of a band of rebels who had succumbed to the Cardinal sins and, subsequently, were banished from heaven for all of eternity. Nate has always assumed it was just a bit of heavenly folklore meant to keep new angels from getting into too much trouble with Command.
Mike’s laugh is dark and humourless, “Folklore? No, Nate, The Fallen are every bit as real as you and me. If it is indeed true that Ray has decided he wants your human’s soul, you’re in for the hardest battle you have ever faced.”
“Your confidence in me is touching.” Nate feels his eyes narrow and he turns his officer glare on Mike. Then he smiles..
“I have seen you in action, I am assured of your abilities, Lieutenant.” Mike stays serious, refusing to be swayed by Nate’s charm. ”In fact, if there’s anyone who can win this battle it’s you. It’s just…”
Nate can see Mike thinking, weighing each word in his head.
“Don’t let first impressions lull you into a false sense of security.”
With Mike’s cheerful bit of parting advice, Nate finds himself walking along a dimly lit street. The rain has just stopped falling, the pavement glistens with hundreds of street lights reflecting in the puddles underneath his feet. It’s times like these that Nate misses being on earth. Those tiny shards of beauty amongst surrounding darkness have always spoken to him of unending hope.
He can feel the pull of Walt’s soul ahead of him. Nate enters the college library, slipping silently past the staff and scattered groups of students, desperately trying to cram bits of information they couldn’t be bothered to learn all semester. Nate grins to himself. It feels like coming home. He knows he’s going to find Walt pouring earnestly over his textbooks. Despite all of Mike’s warnings, he does not expect to meet any of The Fallen in a college library a week before finals. It’s in the student bars following the exams where Nate expects to fight his battle. A whirlwind of temptation on offer after weeks of slaving over books would be irresistible even to the cleanest of souls.
“I’m telling you you’re wasting your time here, homes. The only reason for anyone to subject himself to years of wine-sipping, liberal dicksucks spouting bullshit disguised as a college education is to pick up pussy. I mean, shit, homes, just look at all the hotties in this cesspool of debauchery otherwise known as the liberal arts department.” A scrawny dark figure is sitting next to Walt, flipping through a textbook with disdain. “But no, you had to go and pick the geekiest subject in the universe. Computer engineering? What the fuck, homes? You ain’t gonna get any street cred studying this shit.”
Walt glances at his companion with exaggerated patience though, Nate can see a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Not everybody chooses their subjects according to how much action it’s going to attract. Some of us actually want to learn, Ray.”
Ray. Nate steps back into the shadows of the stacks to continue his observation unnoticed. Despite all Mike’s warnings, he can feel a tiny streak of incredulity running through his mind. Could this wiry young man, who appears to have no control over his mouth and a complete inability to sit still for one moment, really be the reason Command is so worried about Walt’s soul? He looks like a college kid, somebody who would fit right into the same liberal arts department he’s currently disparaging with a complete disregard for everyone else trying to study. Still, Nate has always trusted Mike’s judgement and his advice about first impressions is still ringing loud and clear in his mind.
He plucks a book off the nearest bookshelf, shoves it under his arm and walks up to their table looking, for all the world, like an earnest college student.
“Excuse me gentlemen, but this is a library and I’m sure everyone would appreciate it if you could show some restraint and share your wisdom quietly, however invaluable you think your input is.”
Dark eyes flick over Nate, disinterested.
“Whatever, homes, it’s not like any of these pussies are here for any other reason but to get their cocks wet…”
Walt slaps his hand over Ray’s face, effectively muting him, and gives an apologetic grin to Nate.
“I’m sorry, Ray sometimes forgets where he is. We didn’t mean to disturb anybody.”
Under Walt’s hand, Ray’s mouth is still moving, clearly disagreeing with the statement.
“I’ll make sure he stays quiet.”
Nate nods at Walt politely and quickly turns around to hide a smile at the way Ray raises his eyebrows in challenge. “Not a college kid,” he reminds himself silently. Nate needs to step away and reassess the situation. It is clear from Walt’s easy demeanor around Ray it’s not the first time they’ve met. It would appear Ray has managed to infiltrate Walt’s life without much effort. Despite that fact, Nate steps back into the dark of summer’s night, quite pleased with his little recon mission. He managed to observe his charge and scope out the threat without raising any suspicions. He’s mentally running a check on Walt’s soul for any indication that time spent with Ray is starting to have an effect. As far as Nate can see, it’s still warm and bright and unshakably solid.
“Shit, homes, I didn’t know Command was so desperate it started sending college kids to fight their battles.” an amused voice drawls out behind him.
Nate turns to face Ray who’s leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, dark eyes intent on Nate.
“I didn’t know that things have gotten so bad for the mighty Fallen they’ve taken to hanging around college libraries trying to lure unsuspecting kids into their ranks.”
With that, Ray pushes off the wall and squares up to Nate, easy buddy routine suddenly forgotten.
“Stay away from Walt.”
There’s no mistaking a threat in his voice and Nate can feel his wings twitch in response, wanting to unfold. He stills himself, desperate to keep up the pretence for the sake of any unsuspecting humans passingby.
“It seems to me that you have spent too much time on earth, oh mighty Fallen, and have forgotten we are not some poor, easily intimidated souls. Do not mistake me for a liberal college kid, Ray.”
“Wise words, Lieutenant. Though I wouldn’t waste your breath. Along with a chronic inability to shut his mouth, Ray also has a complete disregard for anybody in a position of authority, which makes him a particularly cruel and unusual punishment for all my sins.”
“Fuck you, Brad. You know you love your Ray-Ray.”
Nate spins around to face the newcomer and a frisson runs up and down his spine, icy hot, that has nothing to do with danger. Nate has been in heaven long enough to have seen plenty of angelic beauty. The warriors of ancient Greece, like Rudy, with their perfectly sculpted bodies. The recent recruits, like Q-tip, whose dimples and impish smile could cause poets to spout romantic nonsense into the next millennia. In all that time, however, he has never met anyone as imposing as The Fallen standing before him. Nate is certain Brad had entered heaven in the days it had been called Valhalla. There is something ancient, dark and dangerous burning deep in the calm stare of his blue eyes and Nate can feel the sudden chill of unforgiving Nordic winters emanating from him as Brad looks at him for one long moment. Time slows and stretches. Nate can see him observing, calculating, assessing the threat. Whatever he sees makes Brad grin a toothy grin that shoots across Nate’s body and buries itself somewhere deep inside. Nate raises his chin at the blatant challenge.
“Call off your minion.”
He’s relieved to hear none of the confusion, heat and other emotions, Nate’s afraid to name, currently somersaulting through him are evident in his voice.
Somewhere to his left he can hear Ray starting to splutter with indignation.
“Minion? I’m not his fucking minion…”
“Ray.” Brad’s voice is level and calm.
“Whatever, homes, Walt is mine, I’m not giving him up because a first year recruit from an angelic choir says so! I saw him first!”
“Ray!” The command in Brad’s voice is unmistakable. “Go bother someone else with your inane babbling.”
Nate doesn’t hear Ray leave but he can tell the exact moment he’s left facing Brad on his own.
“What do you want with Walt?” Nate knows how much Command wants Walt in heaven and thinks the boy must be an important part of a bigger plan. That must be the reason why The Fallen are after him.
“Me? Couldn’t care less about the kid but Ray is bored.” Brad’s smirk flashes weary amusement. “He wants someone new to play with.”
“You’re planning to subject an innocent human to eternal damnation just because one of you is bored?” Nate has to work hard to keep the anger out of his voice.
“Seems like an easier option than subjecting myself to centuries of Ray’s whining.”
“Never would have thought you’d go for the easy option.”
Brad steps up to him, menacing, dangerous. It probably isn’t a good idea to taunt one of The Fallen. Nate feels his wings bristle. Brad is standing so close they’re practically touching. If Nate lifts his hand just a fraction, he could run his fingers over Brad’s arm where the hairs are fine and blond, like they’ve been bleached by a midday sun. Nate snatches the thought before it veers into dangerous territory. Brad smirks again.
“So what does Command want with pure, innocent Walt?” He drawls the words pure and innocent with eyes fixed on Nate’s mouth.
Nate can feel himself flushing.
“The full details of the plan weren’t disclosed to me. I’m sure Walt is an important part of a bigger picture.”
“Maybe there is no bigger picture. Have you thought about that? You’re going to make young Walt join the ranks of the pure, the beautiful and the dull before he’s even had his first kiss.”
Nate wonders how Brad knows. He wonders whether he or Ray has plans to rectify the situation. He thinks about his own first kiss, long ago, awkward and fumbling, hesitant, a little desperate and oh so hot. Brad’s mouth quirks at the corner, like he can read Nate’s mind. The desire to take a step forward and wipe that smirk off with his mouth flares warm and bright. Nate breathes in and out - a calm steady rhythm - and forces himself to stay still.
“It seems to me you are no better than us, subjecting Walt to an eternity of boredom before he’s even lived. Have you lived, Lieutenant?”
The teasing in Brad’s voice is unmistakable, prickling Nate’s skin, seeping inside, waking the memories Nate had shoved and buried in the deep corners of his soul a hundred years ago. Memories of skin and gentle touch, of mouths colliding and hot exhales against his neck, of tremors racing and demanding kisses, of hot and yes and please and more.
“I think we should give him a choice.” Nate can hear his voice, thick and heavy, like he’s been awakened from a sleep and isn’t fully alert, yet. “I think Walt should choose for himself what he wants to do with his life.”
Brad sighs a much put upon sigh.
“Ray isn’t going to be happy when I tell him to stay away from his little boyfriend. My life will be hell.”
His eyes flash, dark, amused blue. “I hope you’re planning to repay me, Lieutenant.”
“You’re very quiet for somebody who just completed a successful mission.”
“I didn’t win the war, Mike, I negotiated the peace.”
And possibly started another war. The thought remains unspoken. Nate looks at the city bellow him - laughing, sleeping, fighting, dreaming, hoping - and thinks about a thousand nights stretching into one.
“Brad says hello.” Nate’s voice is soft and still. Devoid of all emotion. A sharp intake of breath lets him know he’s fooling no one.
“Be careful, Nate. Lust is a sin.”
Poll