Fic: Maybe Nobody Knows
Title: Maybe Nobody Knows
Author: l_s_d_me
Pairing: Ray/Brad
Word Count: 650
Rating: PG13
Summary: Ray has secrets, that may not be secrets to everybody.
Disclaimer: False. All False.
Notes: Thanks to the beautiful timeofnoreply for the beta (and for the plot changing, epic mention of cupcakes). And for meeks00 for holding my hand through the emotional trauma of my brad/nate self suddenly needing to write brad/ray lately.
Ray likes to start the day as if shot from a cannon. While most people breathe deeply, stretch, refuse to open their eyes to the light shining through the window, Ray is right there, annoyingly awake, and waiting to start his day. He has lost count of the number of times he’s been pushed onto the floor and told “leave me the fuck alone.”
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On the inside Ray knows that it was the eyes that got him. The paleness of them surprised him after a lifetime of staring at his own deep brown eyes in the mirror. So he replaced the uncertainty in his eyes, for these new ones instead. They changed color from light to dark, sometimes they shone through the darkest Iraqi night, and sometimes in anger you couldn’t see them at all. But like he said - it was the eyes that got him. They instantly reminded him of the ocean, which is pretty fucking gay and nobody will ever hear that outside of this room, but it’s true.
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In the end, Ray hates nothing more in life than Ripped Fuel. Sure, it kept him conscious after God knows how long of not sleeping. But when every other day is spent getting concerned looks from a certain team leader, looks that take hold of Ray’s gut and twists it because he can feel a hint of disappointment in that look, he fucking hates it.
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His friends back home believe him when he bitches about the Corps.
“It fucking sucks being told what to do all the time, homes.”
“We always end up in some shit-hole! Why the hell would I want to spend all my precious fucking time there?”
“If I wanted to get shot at I’d stay in my own state and move to St. Louis, not go halfway across the world.”
“No.Pussy.At.All.”
But they don’t know. They don’t know that Recon, fuck it, that Ray is elite. They don’t know that he is ninety percent smarter than anybody they know (or don’t know for that matter). Ray hides that he never wanted anything so badly in his life as being in the Marine Corps.
Truthfully he’s always considered himself a swift, silent, and deadly motherfucker.
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It’s that feeling deep down inside him, past his stomach, somewhere mashed in there with all the shit that nobody really understands how it keeps you going. It’s that feeling that he only gets when Brad slides his hand across Ray’s hip, pulling him closer. The way Brad whispers his name before sighing and falling back to sleep. It’s that feeling that nobody will ever know.
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If there was one thing in life Ray is secretly concerned about it’s that of the well-being of one Walt Hasser. Hell, if he could adopt him he could - but some shit about Walt already having parents who loved him or something like that got in the way of the paperwork. Plus there was the strict, “No Ray, we are not letting Walt move in with us… And forget about turning the shed into a room…No, not even into a tent in the back yard.” Brad can be such a downer sometimes.
There’s just something about Walt that Ray’s never been able to put his finger on. It’s that damn wide-eyed Virginia smile that Ray wants to make sure never wavers.
Plus who else is he going to sing country songs with?
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Bottom line is that Ray loves his secrets, the stuff that nobody knows. But more than that he loves that they’re not really secrets at all. Someone knows. Brad knows. “The fucking Iceman knows everything about you before you even know it.” Ray likes to joke. But it’s true. Brad sees past the bullshit, the insecurity, the unsure brown eyes that follow him everywhere. Ray loves it - but then again, that’s a secret too.
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Also. Cupcakes. He loves them. Deal with it.