GK, In which Ray is wet the entire time, PG13, 1/1, Nate/Ray, 672
Title: In which Ray is wet the entire time
Author: sephirothflame
Fandom: Generation Kill
Rating: PG13
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Nate Fick x Ray Person
Warning(s): none
Spoiler(s): none
Prompt(s): kari_hermione said NATE/RAY! Being snarky and awesome at a Bravo2 BBQ. and this happened.
Word Count: 672
Master List: here
Notes: Trying to get caught up on the advent event.
Summary: It's a group barbecue, but Ray is tired of the reindeer games. Nate is feeling playful.
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.
Nate is sipping a Corona when Ray finds him, long legs spread wide and grass stains on his cargo shorts. His eyes are hidden behind a pair of Oakleys - go fucking figure - but the corners of his lips tip up into a smile when he realizes it’s Ray casting a shadow on him. “Tired of playing football already?”
”Brad keeps picking me up and tossing me in the ocean,” Ray replies. He plops down onto the bench next to Nate and rings the water out of the bottom of his shirt. “It was either call it quits or shoot him.”
”This is likely the better alternative,” Nate replies. He takes another sip of his drink, and when he looks over at Ray, there’s a full grin on his face. “I’m sure you could take him.”
”Fuck yeah I can take him,” Ray scoffs. He had a beer earlier, but he must have put it down somewhere. All Ray knows for sure is that his fingers are itching to touch something but he doesn’t dare reach for what he wants here, surrounded by Marines.
Nate makes a sound, not entirely disbelieving but not entirely convincing enough for Ray to resist punching him in the arm. He laughs, shoving Ray back, and it’s hard for Ray to fight the urge to shove again. They probably can’t get away with play fighting, not when they’re at a base sponsored picnic.
Nate takes another sip of his beer, and Ray doesn’t bother to look away. He likes the bobbing of Nate’s throat and tries to figure out what it’ll take to put his mouth there. A trip to somewhere not near on the beach and near the assholes he works with, for sure.
”Do you want to take a walk?” Nate asks. He lets his sunglasses slip down his nose, stupid grin on his face, and Ray wants to mock him but he wants to kiss him more. It’s why when Nate stands up and starts trailing off, Ray doesn’t see any choice but to follow.
”Where exactly are we going?” Ray asks. The sun is bright on the water, and Ray wants to shield his eyes and regrets leaving his pimp shades in Walt’s care. They’ll probably be in one piece when Ray finds him again but Ray doesn’t dwell on it. He’d rather focus on how close Nate is and how warm he is when they’re arms bump. “We’re not swimming, are we?”
”Nope,” Nate says. He stops suddenly, and Ray almost forgets the ivy league prince is one of them. Nate is quick when he picks Ray up, and Ray doesn’t think to fight it - it’s Nate for fuck’s sake - but then he’s being tossed again.
Ray knows he is, can feel it in the way Nate’s muscles clench in his arms and the rush of air, but Ray still isn’t prepared for the splash of water and the feeling of wet sand against his skin. “Oh, fuck you,” Ray says, as soon as he can push himself up and wipes the water from his face in vain. “What the fuck was that for?”
Nate shrugs, but his indifference is betrayed by the grin on his face. “Looked fun.”
”I’ll fucking kill you,” Ray says, but the threat lacks any real heat. He pulls himself out of the water and tries to ignore the heavy feeling of wet cotton. It’s annoying and he hates it, and he has no qualms about tugging his USMC shirt up and over his head.
”Or you could just fuck me,” Nate replies easily. His grin is still there, brilliant white teeth flashing and Ray wants to wipe that cheeky look off his face. With a kiss or his cock, Ray isn’t picky, he just knows they need to leave here to do it.
The barbeque and his glasses can wait for some other time. Ray’s got a mission and he’s determined to see it through. That Nate laughs when Ray shoves at his chest only encourages him.
Author: sephirothflame
Fandom: Generation Kill
Rating: PG13
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Nate Fick x Ray Person
Warning(s): none
Spoiler(s): none
Prompt(s): kari_hermione said NATE/RAY! Being snarky and awesome at a Bravo2 BBQ. and this happened.
Word Count: 672
Master List: here
Notes: Trying to get caught up on the advent event.
Summary: It's a group barbecue, but Ray is tired of the reindeer games. Nate is feeling playful.
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.
Nate is sipping a Corona when Ray finds him, long legs spread wide and grass stains on his cargo shorts. His eyes are hidden behind a pair of Oakleys - go fucking figure - but the corners of his lips tip up into a smile when he realizes it’s Ray casting a shadow on him. “Tired of playing football already?”
”Brad keeps picking me up and tossing me in the ocean,” Ray replies. He plops down onto the bench next to Nate and rings the water out of the bottom of his shirt. “It was either call it quits or shoot him.”
”This is likely the better alternative,” Nate replies. He takes another sip of his drink, and when he looks over at Ray, there’s a full grin on his face. “I’m sure you could take him.”
”Fuck yeah I can take him,” Ray scoffs. He had a beer earlier, but he must have put it down somewhere. All Ray knows for sure is that his fingers are itching to touch something but he doesn’t dare reach for what he wants here, surrounded by Marines.
Nate makes a sound, not entirely disbelieving but not entirely convincing enough for Ray to resist punching him in the arm. He laughs, shoving Ray back, and it’s hard for Ray to fight the urge to shove again. They probably can’t get away with play fighting, not when they’re at a base sponsored picnic.
Nate takes another sip of his beer, and Ray doesn’t bother to look away. He likes the bobbing of Nate’s throat and tries to figure out what it’ll take to put his mouth there. A trip to somewhere not near on the beach and near the assholes he works with, for sure.
”Do you want to take a walk?” Nate asks. He lets his sunglasses slip down his nose, stupid grin on his face, and Ray wants to mock him but he wants to kiss him more. It’s why when Nate stands up and starts trailing off, Ray doesn’t see any choice but to follow.
”Where exactly are we going?” Ray asks. The sun is bright on the water, and Ray wants to shield his eyes and regrets leaving his pimp shades in Walt’s care. They’ll probably be in one piece when Ray finds him again but Ray doesn’t dwell on it. He’d rather focus on how close Nate is and how warm he is when they’re arms bump. “We’re not swimming, are we?”
”Nope,” Nate says. He stops suddenly, and Ray almost forgets the ivy league prince is one of them. Nate is quick when he picks Ray up, and Ray doesn’t think to fight it - it’s Nate for fuck’s sake - but then he’s being tossed again.
Ray knows he is, can feel it in the way Nate’s muscles clench in his arms and the rush of air, but Ray still isn’t prepared for the splash of water and the feeling of wet sand against his skin. “Oh, fuck you,” Ray says, as soon as he can push himself up and wipes the water from his face in vain. “What the fuck was that for?”
Nate shrugs, but his indifference is betrayed by the grin on his face. “Looked fun.”
”I’ll fucking kill you,” Ray says, but the threat lacks any real heat. He pulls himself out of the water and tries to ignore the heavy feeling of wet cotton. It’s annoying and he hates it, and he has no qualms about tugging his USMC shirt up and over his head.
”Or you could just fuck me,” Nate replies easily. His grin is still there, brilliant white teeth flashing and Ray wants to wipe that cheeky look off his face. With a kiss or his cock, Ray isn’t picky, he just knows they need to leave here to do it.
The barbeque and his glasses can wait for some other time. Ray’s got a mission and he’s determined to see it through. That Nate laughs when Ray shoves at his chest only encourages him.