GK, Picture of Innocence, 1/1, NC17, Ray, Nate/Walt, 2,104
Title: Picture of Innocence
Author: sephirothflame
Fandom: Generation Kill
Rating: NC17
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Nate Fick x Walt Hasser (implied Ray Person x Brad Colbert)
Warning(s): PWP, masturbation, voyeurism, rough sex,
Spoiler(s): None
Prompt(s): kari_hermione, Nate/Walt, rough!sex (bonus points for Brad/Ray watching, cue dirty talk and how pretty N/W are).
Word Count: 2,104
Notes: Nate/Walt forever, even if it doesn't make sense to me.
Summary: Ray just wants to know what kind of porn Nate watches. He doesn't mean to stumble upon amateur videos of him and Walt, but he can't look away when he does.
Disclaimer: I do not own Generation Kill. This is a work of fiction inspired by the fictional portrayal of the actual events. No harm intended.
The thing is, none of this is Ray’s fault. Nate recorded the video, Walt broke the laptop, and Brad agreed to fix it and then just left it sitting inconspicuously on his coffee table. The only blame Ray will accept is the fact he was curious as to what kind of porn Nate had saved on his hard drive, porn the LT didn’t even bother hiding.
There is a part of Ray that feels like he should maybe feel guilty. Obviously, this isn’t the kind of thing Nate would want just anyone to watch. If Ray had found it, Brad had, though, and Ray idly wonders if Nate’s the least bit worried about people snooping through his files right now. More importantly, Ray wonders if Brad watched it or was able to resist the same temptation that’s coursing red-hot through Ray’s veins.
Ray hadn’t expected the video to be all that interesting because Nate has never really struck Ray as being the guy to be into any kinky or depraved sort of porn. It’s just that there’s something about the way the LT is smirking, pushing the laptop back (on what Ray’s pretty sure has to be Walt’s coffee table because he’s been to Walt’s place enough times) so that it captures the entire couch in his view finder that draws Ray in.
Nate tugs his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side, pausing long enough to double check that the camera on his laptop is recording before he turns around. He practically crawls towards Walt on the couch, grabbing Walt’s ankle and tugging him away from the corner to where Nate wants him before he ducks down to kiss Walt. “Trust me,” Nate says, his voice only a little tinny over the speakers.
God help them all, Walt only flashes the camera one hesitant look before he nods his head. “Whatever,” Walt says. He tugs off his Henley before letting it fall over the edge of the couch, propping himself up on his elbows to smile at Nate. “You’re such a freak.”
“Yeah, but you love me anyways.” Nate ducks down to kiss Walt again, one hand bracing himself on the arm rest of the couch and the other curling around the back of Walt’s neck. One of them moans, Ray’s not entirely sure which, and there is something absolutely obscene about the way their lips and tongues slide together.
Ray’s pressing CTRL down with his pinky, his middle finger hovering over the W uncertainly. That feeling that he’s doing something wrong, that he’s abusing someone’s trust and doing something that’ll get him in a lot of trouble has returned. Ray knows he should close the video, because the last thing he needs to do is get reamed for watching porn on Nate’s laptop, especially since it’s almost sweet the way Nate and Walt move together, fingers skimming over skin and tongues tangling. Ray doesn’t close the video though, and he’s not entirely sure why he doesn’t, but it’s not a decision he regrets entirely.
The first few minutes are pretty much any twelve year old girl’s expectation of foreplay. Nate kisses down Walt’s neck, across his shoulder and down his chest. He nips at Walt’s nipples, flicks and teases them until they’re both beaded up before continuing to leave nipping kisses down Walt’s stomach. All the while he’s whispering praises, the words near incomprehensible, and Walt holds the back of his neck with one hand and whispers encouragement.
The only reason it interests Ray at all is because he knows these guys, intimately, but not as intimately as they apparently know each other. Walt’s going to get chewed out for this as soon as Ray figures out how to bring up the subject without mentioning the amateur porn. Still, he doesn’t close the video, and it’s something he’s rewarded for as soon as Nate nuzzles against the front of Walt’s jeans.
“This is all well and good, Nate, but I’m pretty sure you promised to fuck me so hard I couldn’t move for a week,” Walt says. He’s laying back on the couch, one hand on his stomach and the other carding through Nate’s hair, and he sounds more amused than anything. “Not that I’m complaining.”
Nate scoffs, pushing himself up on his elbows to look at Walt. “Here I was, trying to be a nice guy…” Nate’s voice trails off as he starts to undo Walt’s jeans, and he sits back on his heels so that he can tug them down Walt’s thighs as well as his briefs. They’re discarded over the edge of the couch carelessly, and Nate grins, casting a quick look at the camera before he curls a hand around Walt’s cock and tugs it to fullness lazily. “The couch isn’t really big enough -”
“We’re Marines,” Walt huffs. “We’ll make do. Just grab the damn slick already, Nate. Besides, you’re the one who set up the camera.”
There’s a part of Ray that’s absolutely fascinated at the ease of which Nate obeys Walt’s orders and Ray really isn’t all that surprised to learn Walt’s so bossy. He gives up on the pretenses of considering to close the video and slouches farther into the couch cushions, his hands resting on his stomach idly. There’s a low hum of interest under the surface of his skin, but it’s not nearly enough for Ray to even consider acting on.
Walt keeps a tube of slick in the drawer of the end table, which Ray already knew because he’s a nosy little fucker when he wants to be, and Nate has to climb over Walt’s body to reach it. Walt holds Nate hips when Nate moves, leaning up far enough to press a kiss to Nate’s chest, before collapsing back onto the couch with a soft ‘oomph’. He undoes Nate’s belt easily, popping the button on his jeans and tugging the zipper down before he slides a hand in Nate’s boxers.
Nate groans, jerking his hips forward into Walt’s touch and muttering, “Jesus Christ, Walt.” He finds the lube easily before pushing himself back down Walt’s body. Nate pauses long enough to shed his jeans and boxers, kicking them off and away without caring where they end up. Sitting back on his heels, Nate moves just far enough out of Walt’s range that he has to jerk his cock off himself, and he ducks down to lap at the head of Walt’s dick lazily. “Just give me a minute.”
“No.” Walt says, and it makes Nate laugh. Nate sits back when he pops open the tube of slick, dribbling the lube across his fingers and coating them liberally, before he leans forward to kiss Walt again and his fingers disappear between Walt’s thighs. Walt shudders, a low moan escaping him, and he bows his spine up towards Nate’s chest and his heels dig into the couch cushions. “Fuck.”
“I thought that was the plan,” Nate grins. He mouths at Walt’s jaw aimlessly, holding himself up on one elbow and slowly working Walt open with his other hand. He groans every time Walt’s thumb brushes over the head of his cock, and when he’s done stretching Walt he rests their foreheads together and smiles. “You ready?”
“Nate.” It’s a warning for Nate to knock off the bullshit, the tone obvious to Ray simply because the sheer number of times Walt’s used it on him. Walt wraps his legs around Nate’s hips easily and without prompting, and Nate takes it as a sign to slick up his cock with the lube before letting the small tube fall over the edge of the couch.
Digging his fingers into Walt’s ass, Nate drags Walt farther down the couch and up Nate’s body. He lets go of Walt with one hand to line himself up with Walt’s hole and push in, and they both groan loudly as Nate bottoms out. “Jesus, Walt. God, you’re so tight.”
With every lazy thrust of Nate’s hips into Walt, Ray finds his hand slipping farther down his stomach until it reaches the point he needs to balance Nate’s laptop precariously on his knees just so he can get a hand inside the sweatpants he’d stolen from Brad’s laundry earlier. They’re too big on Ray, slung low on his hips and threatening to slip off, but for once it’s working to Ray’s advantage. He’s half hard already, and it doesn’t take a lot of effort on his part to get it up the rest of the way, not with the way Walt and Nate are both moaning over the laptop’s speakers.
Walt’s fingers are digging into Nate’s arm tightly, and he pushes back every time Nate rolls his hips. Letting out a soft whine, Walt curls a hand around his own dick and tugs roughly. “Come on, Nate,” He groans. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
“I told you, there isn’t room - ” Nate’s fingers slip on Walt’s hip, and Nate lets out a train of expletives while he grips the back of Walt’s thigh and drags him back into place. “Don’t,” Nate says when Walt opens his mouth to complain, and on his next thrust into Walt, Nate shoves hard enough for Walt to gasp, startled, digging his nails into Nate’s arms. “Better?”
“Harder,” Walt demands. His ankles are hooked behind Nate’s back and he still manages to roll his hips to meet every one of Nate’s thrusts. “Please, Nate, I want you to - ”
“I heard you,” Nate huffs. “This won’t work. Get on your knees.” Sitting back on his heels, Nate runs a hand through his sweaty hair while he watches Walt struggle to obey. One of Walt’s knees slip over the edge of the couch, but Nate steadies him and it’s only a moment before Nate is curling his hand around the back of Walt’s neck and forcing him into the couch. He offers no words or warnings before he pushes back into Walt, and he doesn’t wait for Walt to adjust before he pulls out and shoves in again. “Better?” He repeats.
Walt moans wantonly, spreading his legs as far as he can on the couch before shoving back to meet Nate’s next thrust. His face is hidden by his forearms, but even muffled the sounds he’s making still carry through the laptop’s speakers. “Nate, Nate, Nate,” Walt groans, and he fumbles between his own legs to start jerking himself off again.
“I’ve got you,” Nate replies. He doubles over Walt’s back to bite at his neck and shoulders, quick nips followed by a flick of his tongue, and his knuckles are curled so tightly around Walt’s hips they’re starting to turn white.
Coupled with the brutal snapping of Nate’s hips, Walt has to be hurting. The fact that Walt’s just taking it, honestly encouraging it and just begging for “more, harder, please” might actually be the death of Ray. Ray arches his hips to shove his borrowed sweatpants and boxers far enough down his thighs to free his cock, rolling his hips up into his fist with every harsh thrust of Nate’s cock into Walt.
Ray’s not going to last long, not during something like this, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when Walt starts sounding a little more desperate with each passing moment and he’s grabbing the base of his dick just to keep from coming, prolonging the moment as Nate keeps pounding into him, panting heavily in Walt’s ear and groaning incomprehensible encouragements with every thrust.
And there’s a special level of Hell waiting for Ray after he dies, but watching Walt buck back against Nate when Nate reaches for Walt’s cock and Walt coming before Nate even manages to finish a stroke, crying out and practically thrashing under Nate - it’s enough for Ray to get off, coming harder than he has in a real long time and the only thing he can think as he slumps back into the couch and wipes his hand on his stomach is that this is definitely not his fault.
Author: sephirothflame
Fandom: Generation Kill
Rating: NC17
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Nate Fick x Walt Hasser (implied Ray Person x Brad Colbert)
Warning(s): PWP, masturbation, voyeurism, rough sex,
Spoiler(s): None
Prompt(s): kari_hermione, Nate/Walt, rough!sex (bonus points for Brad/Ray watching, cue dirty talk and how pretty N/W are).
Word Count: 2,104
Notes: Nate/Walt forever, even if it doesn't make sense to me.
Summary: Ray just wants to know what kind of porn Nate watches. He doesn't mean to stumble upon amateur videos of him and Walt, but he can't look away when he does.
Disclaimer: I do not own Generation Kill. This is a work of fiction inspired by the fictional portrayal of the actual events. No harm intended.
The thing is, none of this is Ray’s fault. Nate recorded the video, Walt broke the laptop, and Brad agreed to fix it and then just left it sitting inconspicuously on his coffee table. The only blame Ray will accept is the fact he was curious as to what kind of porn Nate had saved on his hard drive, porn the LT didn’t even bother hiding.
There is a part of Ray that feels like he should maybe feel guilty. Obviously, this isn’t the kind of thing Nate would want just anyone to watch. If Ray had found it, Brad had, though, and Ray idly wonders if Nate’s the least bit worried about people snooping through his files right now. More importantly, Ray wonders if Brad watched it or was able to resist the same temptation that’s coursing red-hot through Ray’s veins.
Ray hadn’t expected the video to be all that interesting because Nate has never really struck Ray as being the guy to be into any kinky or depraved sort of porn. It’s just that there’s something about the way the LT is smirking, pushing the laptop back (on what Ray’s pretty sure has to be Walt’s coffee table because he’s been to Walt’s place enough times) so that it captures the entire couch in his view finder that draws Ray in.
Nate tugs his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side, pausing long enough to double check that the camera on his laptop is recording before he turns around. He practically crawls towards Walt on the couch, grabbing Walt’s ankle and tugging him away from the corner to where Nate wants him before he ducks down to kiss Walt. “Trust me,” Nate says, his voice only a little tinny over the speakers.
God help them all, Walt only flashes the camera one hesitant look before he nods his head. “Whatever,” Walt says. He tugs off his Henley before letting it fall over the edge of the couch, propping himself up on his elbows to smile at Nate. “You’re such a freak.”
“Yeah, but you love me anyways.” Nate ducks down to kiss Walt again, one hand bracing himself on the arm rest of the couch and the other curling around the back of Walt’s neck. One of them moans, Ray’s not entirely sure which, and there is something absolutely obscene about the way their lips and tongues slide together.
Ray’s pressing CTRL down with his pinky, his middle finger hovering over the W uncertainly. That feeling that he’s doing something wrong, that he’s abusing someone’s trust and doing something that’ll get him in a lot of trouble has returned. Ray knows he should close the video, because the last thing he needs to do is get reamed for watching porn on Nate’s laptop, especially since it’s almost sweet the way Nate and Walt move together, fingers skimming over skin and tongues tangling. Ray doesn’t close the video though, and he’s not entirely sure why he doesn’t, but it’s not a decision he regrets entirely.
The first few minutes are pretty much any twelve year old girl’s expectation of foreplay. Nate kisses down Walt’s neck, across his shoulder and down his chest. He nips at Walt’s nipples, flicks and teases them until they’re both beaded up before continuing to leave nipping kisses down Walt’s stomach. All the while he’s whispering praises, the words near incomprehensible, and Walt holds the back of his neck with one hand and whispers encouragement.
The only reason it interests Ray at all is because he knows these guys, intimately, but not as intimately as they apparently know each other. Walt’s going to get chewed out for this as soon as Ray figures out how to bring up the subject without mentioning the amateur porn. Still, he doesn’t close the video, and it’s something he’s rewarded for as soon as Nate nuzzles against the front of Walt’s jeans.
“This is all well and good, Nate, but I’m pretty sure you promised to fuck me so hard I couldn’t move for a week,” Walt says. He’s laying back on the couch, one hand on his stomach and the other carding through Nate’s hair, and he sounds more amused than anything. “Not that I’m complaining.”
Nate scoffs, pushing himself up on his elbows to look at Walt. “Here I was, trying to be a nice guy…” Nate’s voice trails off as he starts to undo Walt’s jeans, and he sits back on his heels so that he can tug them down Walt’s thighs as well as his briefs. They’re discarded over the edge of the couch carelessly, and Nate grins, casting a quick look at the camera before he curls a hand around Walt’s cock and tugs it to fullness lazily. “The couch isn’t really big enough -”
“We’re Marines,” Walt huffs. “We’ll make do. Just grab the damn slick already, Nate. Besides, you’re the one who set up the camera.”
There’s a part of Ray that’s absolutely fascinated at the ease of which Nate obeys Walt’s orders and Ray really isn’t all that surprised to learn Walt’s so bossy. He gives up on the pretenses of considering to close the video and slouches farther into the couch cushions, his hands resting on his stomach idly. There’s a low hum of interest under the surface of his skin, but it’s not nearly enough for Ray to even consider acting on.
Walt keeps a tube of slick in the drawer of the end table, which Ray already knew because he’s a nosy little fucker when he wants to be, and Nate has to climb over Walt’s body to reach it. Walt holds Nate hips when Nate moves, leaning up far enough to press a kiss to Nate’s chest, before collapsing back onto the couch with a soft ‘oomph’. He undoes Nate’s belt easily, popping the button on his jeans and tugging the zipper down before he slides a hand in Nate’s boxers.
Nate groans, jerking his hips forward into Walt’s touch and muttering, “Jesus Christ, Walt.” He finds the lube easily before pushing himself back down Walt’s body. Nate pauses long enough to shed his jeans and boxers, kicking them off and away without caring where they end up. Sitting back on his heels, Nate moves just far enough out of Walt’s range that he has to jerk his cock off himself, and he ducks down to lap at the head of Walt’s dick lazily. “Just give me a minute.”
“No.” Walt says, and it makes Nate laugh. Nate sits back when he pops open the tube of slick, dribbling the lube across his fingers and coating them liberally, before he leans forward to kiss Walt again and his fingers disappear between Walt’s thighs. Walt shudders, a low moan escaping him, and he bows his spine up towards Nate’s chest and his heels dig into the couch cushions. “Fuck.”
“I thought that was the plan,” Nate grins. He mouths at Walt’s jaw aimlessly, holding himself up on one elbow and slowly working Walt open with his other hand. He groans every time Walt’s thumb brushes over the head of his cock, and when he’s done stretching Walt he rests their foreheads together and smiles. “You ready?”
“Nate.” It’s a warning for Nate to knock off the bullshit, the tone obvious to Ray simply because the sheer number of times Walt’s used it on him. Walt wraps his legs around Nate’s hips easily and without prompting, and Nate takes it as a sign to slick up his cock with the lube before letting the small tube fall over the edge of the couch.
Digging his fingers into Walt’s ass, Nate drags Walt farther down the couch and up Nate’s body. He lets go of Walt with one hand to line himself up with Walt’s hole and push in, and they both groan loudly as Nate bottoms out. “Jesus, Walt. God, you’re so tight.”
With every lazy thrust of Nate’s hips into Walt, Ray finds his hand slipping farther down his stomach until it reaches the point he needs to balance Nate’s laptop precariously on his knees just so he can get a hand inside the sweatpants he’d stolen from Brad’s laundry earlier. They’re too big on Ray, slung low on his hips and threatening to slip off, but for once it’s working to Ray’s advantage. He’s half hard already, and it doesn’t take a lot of effort on his part to get it up the rest of the way, not with the way Walt and Nate are both moaning over the laptop’s speakers.
Walt’s fingers are digging into Nate’s arm tightly, and he pushes back every time Nate rolls his hips. Letting out a soft whine, Walt curls a hand around his own dick and tugs roughly. “Come on, Nate,” He groans. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
“I told you, there isn’t room - ” Nate’s fingers slip on Walt’s hip, and Nate lets out a train of expletives while he grips the back of Walt’s thigh and drags him back into place. “Don’t,” Nate says when Walt opens his mouth to complain, and on his next thrust into Walt, Nate shoves hard enough for Walt to gasp, startled, digging his nails into Nate’s arms. “Better?”
“Harder,” Walt demands. His ankles are hooked behind Nate’s back and he still manages to roll his hips to meet every one of Nate’s thrusts. “Please, Nate, I want you to - ”
“I heard you,” Nate huffs. “This won’t work. Get on your knees.” Sitting back on his heels, Nate runs a hand through his sweaty hair while he watches Walt struggle to obey. One of Walt’s knees slip over the edge of the couch, but Nate steadies him and it’s only a moment before Nate is curling his hand around the back of Walt’s neck and forcing him into the couch. He offers no words or warnings before he pushes back into Walt, and he doesn’t wait for Walt to adjust before he pulls out and shoves in again. “Better?” He repeats.
Walt moans wantonly, spreading his legs as far as he can on the couch before shoving back to meet Nate’s next thrust. His face is hidden by his forearms, but even muffled the sounds he’s making still carry through the laptop’s speakers. “Nate, Nate, Nate,” Walt groans, and he fumbles between his own legs to start jerking himself off again.
“I’ve got you,” Nate replies. He doubles over Walt’s back to bite at his neck and shoulders, quick nips followed by a flick of his tongue, and his knuckles are curled so tightly around Walt’s hips they’re starting to turn white.
Coupled with the brutal snapping of Nate’s hips, Walt has to be hurting. The fact that Walt’s just taking it, honestly encouraging it and just begging for “more, harder, please” might actually be the death of Ray. Ray arches his hips to shove his borrowed sweatpants and boxers far enough down his thighs to free his cock, rolling his hips up into his fist with every harsh thrust of Nate’s cock into Walt.
Ray’s not going to last long, not during something like this, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when Walt starts sounding a little more desperate with each passing moment and he’s grabbing the base of his dick just to keep from coming, prolonging the moment as Nate keeps pounding into him, panting heavily in Walt’s ear and groaning incomprehensible encouragements with every thrust.
And there’s a special level of Hell waiting for Ray after he dies, but watching Walt buck back against Nate when Nate reaches for Walt’s cock and Walt coming before Nate even manages to finish a stroke, crying out and practically thrashing under Nate - it’s enough for Ray to get off, coming harder than he has in a real long time and the only thing he can think as he slumps back into the couch and wipes his hand on his stomach is that this is definitely not his fault.