Just My Type 1/?
anonymous
March 27 2010, 07:11:35 UTC
There will be porn, just not in this part. Apparently I am incapable of writing porn without throwing in some kind of back story. *facepalm*
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Walt had known it was a mistake to go to the bar popular with Marines. Not that the Marines themselves were a problem, they'd spent the better part of a year cramped together with Marines all around the world. Whatever this was between him and Ray, Walt wasn't particularly concerned about Ray going home with someone else.
The two of them had taken a road trip up the California coast after getting back from OIF. Growing up poor in rural Virginia on a farm and then spending most of his time deployed in fucking deserts, Walt hadn't really spent much time around the ocean outside of Recon's water training. In between their talks of starting a band when they got back, Ray had started boasting about showing Walt the world. As if he'd somehow amassed a great knowledge of the world growing up in his backwater hick town somewhere in Missouri. This had somehow transformed into a decision to drive up California when they got back. Despite Ray’s tendency to include nearly anyone and everyone - generally anyone who happened to be near while Ray was ranting at that given moment - in his ever changing plans for his after he got back, Walt had noticed that Ray didn’t talk about what he called the Epic Roadtrip to Broaden Walt’s Horizons except when it was just the two of them.
They'd stopped in Monterrey, where Ray had managed to get his legs wrapped up in the kelp that had washed up in the surf. He’d screamed that the plants were trying to eat him as he felt to the sand in a tangle of wet kelp. It was while Walt clutched his sides, laughing so hard he nearly puked that he started to suspect maybe Ray wasn't so worldly as he tried to front.
They'd somehow ended up in a gay bar in San Francisco, which Ray claimed was every bar in San Francisco. Walt figured that couldn't be true, but they'd gone to the Castro to do 'research' for The Golden Stream at Ray's facetious insistence. So it hadn't been like they were walking in unaware of the implications. A few men had flirted with them and Walt hadn't even felt a twinge of jealousy, it wasn't like there was a chance Ray was going to go home with any of them. Any time the flirting got too pushy, Ray would just sidle closer to Walt as he took another sip of his crappy watered down drink. Five drinks in, Walt had just kissed Ray when a man had offered to buy him another drink. The man had rolled his eyes and told them to get a room, which Ray had proclaimed an excellent idea.
That had been a month ago, they'd been back in Oceanside for a few weeks. When Garza had suggested going to a bar a few miles away from base, Ray had quickly agreed. The evening so far had been great, Walt loved his brothers in Bravo more than even if they'd been blood. So, no, the problem wasn't the Marines. The uniform chasers on the other hand; that was an entirely different issue. The thing between him and Ray had progressed towards something Walt felt uncomfortable defining, nor had they talked about it as such since San Francisco. They both understood all too well that whatever it was sure as fuck wasn't happening anywhere near other military, no matter how much trust in their brothers they might have. Brad might have made fun of them rather pointedly when they got back from their 'big gay roadtrip,' but even if he noticed Walt didn't bother to find a place of his own in Oceanside the teasing ended there. Full stop.
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Walt had known it was a mistake to go to the bar popular with Marines. Not that the Marines themselves were a problem, they'd spent the better part of a year cramped together with Marines all around the world. Whatever this was between him and Ray, Walt wasn't particularly concerned about Ray going home with someone else.
The two of them had taken a road trip up the California coast after getting back from OIF. Growing up poor in rural Virginia on a farm and then spending most of his time deployed in fucking deserts, Walt hadn't really spent much time around the ocean outside of Recon's water training. In between their talks of starting a band when they got back, Ray had started boasting about showing Walt the world. As if he'd somehow amassed a great knowledge of the world growing up in his backwater hick town somewhere in Missouri. This had somehow transformed into a decision to drive up California when they got back. Despite Ray’s tendency to include nearly anyone and everyone - generally anyone who happened to be near while Ray was ranting at that given moment - in his ever changing plans for his after he got back, Walt had noticed that Ray didn’t talk about what he called the Epic Roadtrip to Broaden Walt’s Horizons except when it was just the two of them.
They'd stopped in Monterrey, where Ray had managed to get his legs wrapped up in the kelp that had washed up in the surf. He’d screamed that the plants were trying to eat him as he felt to the sand in a tangle of wet kelp. It was while Walt clutched his sides, laughing so hard he nearly puked that he started to suspect maybe Ray wasn't so worldly as he tried to front.
They'd somehow ended up in a gay bar in San Francisco, which Ray claimed was every bar in San Francisco. Walt figured that couldn't be true, but they'd gone to the Castro to do 'research' for The Golden Stream at Ray's facetious insistence. So it hadn't been like they were walking in unaware of the implications. A few men had flirted with them and Walt hadn't even felt a twinge of jealousy, it wasn't like there was a chance Ray was going to go home with any of them. Any time the flirting got too pushy, Ray would just sidle closer to Walt as he took another sip of his crappy watered down drink. Five drinks in, Walt had just kissed Ray when a man had offered to buy him another drink. The man had rolled his eyes and told them to get a room, which Ray had proclaimed an excellent idea.
That had been a month ago, they'd been back in Oceanside for a few weeks. When Garza had suggested going to a bar a few miles away from base, Ray had quickly agreed. The evening so far had been great, Walt loved his brothers in Bravo more than even if they'd been blood. So, no, the problem wasn't the Marines. The uniform chasers on the other hand; that was an entirely different issue. The thing between him and Ray had progressed towards something Walt felt uncomfortable defining, nor had they talked about it as such since San Francisco. They both understood all too well that whatever it was sure as fuck wasn't happening anywhere near other military, no matter how much trust in their brothers they might have. Brad might have made fun of them rather pointedly when they got back from their 'big gay roadtrip,' but even if he noticed Walt didn't bother to find a place of his own in Oceanside the teasing ended there. Full stop.
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