GK, We are so fragile, 1/1, NC17, Brad/Walt, 1400
Title: We are so fragile
Author: sephirothflame
Fandom: Generation Kill
Rating: NC17
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Brad Colbert x Walt Hasser
Warning(s): PWP (oral, penetration)
Spoiler(s): None
Prompt(s): kari_hermione made a comment about Walt sitting on Brad's lap and tearing a condom open with his teeth and it was all downhill from there.
Word Count: 1,400
Notes: Brad/Walt is beautiful.
Summary: Somehow, doing tequila shots leads to Walt naked and willing between Brad's thighs and Brad is perfectly fine with this.
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 tequila shots Brad did with Ray in the bar have been a double edged sword; on the one hand it’s led to where they are now, Walt half naked and on his knees between Brad’s thighs, but on the other, Brad’s cock is taking it’s time getting up under the slow drag of Walt’s lips and the wet heat of his tongue. It doesn’t seem to discourage Walt any though, his fingers stroking around Brad’s cock and tugging at his balls, moaning his encouragement with every deft flick of his tongue and suckling kiss to the shaft.
Brad can only just make out the way Walt is stroking and tugging at his own cock through his shorts, and something about the little whines Walt makes gets Brad harder.
Walt moans, curling his fingers tighter around Brad’s cock and taking the head into his mouth. He tongues the slit and traces around the ridge teasingly and the soft sucking is enough to have Brad gripping Walt’s hair and arching his hips up in mild frustration. Walt just laughs around Brad’s cock and lets him go deeper, pressing his tongue along the vein on the underside and sucking harder. He jacks Brad off slowly, fingers slipping through his own slick spit, and it’s impossibly obscene.
Brad never wants it to stop and he might actually have whined when Walt pulls off.
”Think you can fuck me like this?” Walt asks, his voice husky. His cheeks are flushed, pupils blown, and Brad wants nothing more than to bury his cock in some part of Walt and just debauch the hell out of him. Walt is too pretty to be a Marine, should be on his knees between Brad’s legs always.
Brad relaxes his grip in Walt’s hair, smoothing down the messy tufts, and nods. “Yeah,” he says, but he doesn’t sit up straighter on the couch. He has no intentions of moving anytime soon but Walt doesn’t seem to mind in the least. “Get up here.”
Walt doesn’t hesitate before obeying, using Brad’s knees to lever himself up. The swell of his cock is obvious in his tight shorts, and Brad rubs his fingers along it slowly, thumbing the wet spot gently. Walt just lets him, sighing softly, before hooking his thumbs in his shorts and pushing them down his thighs and kicking them off.
The bob of Walt’s cock is distracting, but nearly not as much as the Walt straddling Brad’s thighs and settling in comfortably. He strokes himself slowly, watching Brad with an amused little smirk, and Brad has to force himself to reach out to the arm of the couch where his jeans are draped for his condoms and lube.
Brad hands the strip of condoms to Walt before pinching the tube of lube between his teeth. Walt’s hips are bony, but it’s easy to drag him in closer by them and Brad wonders how hard he would have to press to cover them in fingerprint sized bruises. Not that this is the time for it, but there’s tons of tequila in the world and so many things Brad wants to do with Walt with or without it.
The sound Walt makes when Brad’s slick fingers rub against his hole go straight to Brad’s cock, throbbing hard, and he rubs them against Walt harder, tracing the rim of muscle before pushing one in. It’s beautiful, the way Walt’s eyes flicker half-shut and his lips part, licking his lips wetly and moaning loudly. “Fuck, Brad.”
It’s easy to lose himself in the feeling of Walt clenching and trembling around his finger, rocking back for more. Walt’s fingers curl around Brad’s cock, smearing the mess of precum with his thumb, and he jerks him off in time with the slow press of Brad’s fingers inside of him. Brad takes his time working in a second, a third, until Walt is panting hotly against Brad’s shoulder and keening every time Brad’s fingers move inside of him, curling and stretching him.
”Please,” Walt whispers, pressing wet kisses to Brad’s skin. He clenches tight around Brad’s fingers, rocking his hips back, and his fingers curl around Brad’s cock near painfully tight. “Please,” Walt breathes again, “I’m ready.”
Brad pulls his fingers out and wipes them on Walt’s thigh, huffing a laugh when Walt just gives him a distracted pointed look. He watches as Walt struggles to tear open a condom with sweaty fingers but Walt just slaps Brad’s hand away when he reaches to take it from him to do it himself. Another bitch face, but it’s hard to take him seriously when he’s blushing down past his nipples and he’s grinding his hips forward against Brad’s stomach.
Finally, Walt gives up and tears the foil open with his teeth and a little growl. He spits the torn part onto the couch, and when he looks up at Brad and smirks Brad doesn’t think before dragging Walt in by his hair for a kiss. He tastes like shots and sweat and the heady taste of cock, but it just makes Brad’s cock throb and leak precum; he can taste himself on Walt’s tongue, it shouldn’t be nearly as sexy as it is.
Walt is determined though, and a better multitasker than Brad, because while Brad is tugging at his hair and biting at Walt’s lips and tongue, Walt manages to shift back enough to roll the condom onto Brad’s cock with sweaty fingers. He laughs breathlessly into the kiss, moaning loudly when Brad starts to suck on his tongue, and Walt wipes his hands furtively against Brad’s chest.
Brad has to force himself to stop kissing Walt, to let him push himself up onto his knees. Brad drags his nails down Walt’s back, his sides, gripping his hips tightly when Walt spills lube all over the both of them trying to slick up Brad’s cock. When Walt grips Brad tight and starts to lever himself down, Brad thinks he could die. He thinks, he didn’t prep Walt enough, because he’s not pushing in, but then Walt adjusts his grip and -
- and oh, Brad could die from this. He wants to die because Walt is so tight around the head of his cock, easing down so slowly, so hot, and nothing will ever feel better than this does now. Walt is perfect like this, his thighs clenching tight as he eases himself down onto Brad’s cock, lip pinched between his teeth and chest heaving from exertion.
It’s impossible to tell which one of them is making the breathless little keening sounds, or maybe it’s both of them, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters beyond the way Walt feels around Brad’s cock, the way his sweaty skin tastes when Brad leans forward to kiss and suck marks into his shoulders and chest. He rakes his nails across Walt’s shoulders, guiding him, holding him, and by the time Walt’s fully seated Brad’s amazed he’s still breathing.
Walt’s fingers stroke along the back of Brad’s neck, toying with the soft hairs at his hairline, and he presses his forehead to Brad’s. They kiss sloppily, more the wet press of lips and tongues than anything else, but it’s enough of a distraction for the pinched look to fade from Walt’s face and for him to relax into Brad’s lap.
”Brad,” Walt breathes out, his nails pressing in against the back of Brad’s neck. “Fuck, I don’t think- “ He rolls his hips slowly, experimentally, and Walt moans unabashedly. “I’ve never had anything this big and Jesus, just - “ His nails tighten and he keens softly. “Brad, just fucking move already.”
The breathless exasperation in Walt’s voice makes laughter bubble inside of Brad, and he presses a kiss to Walt’s jaw. He trails his fingers down Walt’s sides until he can curl them around Walt’s sweaty hips, gripping him tight, urging him up and dragging him back down. Brad arches his hips up to meet Walt’s thrusting shallowly, but it’s enough for Walt to tip his head back and moan.
And Brad knows he’s screwed for life, because he’ll do anything he has to to get Walt to moan like that for him again, licking his lips and rolling his hips to meet every thrust of Brad’s cock. So when Walt’s fingers dig in tighter, his lip pinched between his teeth again as he demands more, Brad has no choice but to obey.
Author: sephirothflame
Fandom: Generation Kill
Rating: NC17
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Brad Colbert x Walt Hasser
Warning(s): PWP (oral, penetration)
Spoiler(s): None
Prompt(s): kari_hermione made a comment about Walt sitting on Brad's lap and tearing a condom open with his teeth and it was all downhill from there.
Word Count: 1,400
Notes: Brad/Walt is beautiful.
Summary: Somehow, doing tequila shots leads to Walt naked and willing between Brad's thighs and Brad is perfectly fine with this.
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 tequila shots Brad did with Ray in the bar have been a double edged sword; on the one hand it’s led to where they are now, Walt half naked and on his knees between Brad’s thighs, but on the other, Brad’s cock is taking it’s time getting up under the slow drag of Walt’s lips and the wet heat of his tongue. It doesn’t seem to discourage Walt any though, his fingers stroking around Brad’s cock and tugging at his balls, moaning his encouragement with every deft flick of his tongue and suckling kiss to the shaft.
Brad can only just make out the way Walt is stroking and tugging at his own cock through his shorts, and something about the little whines Walt makes gets Brad harder.
Walt moans, curling his fingers tighter around Brad’s cock and taking the head into his mouth. He tongues the slit and traces around the ridge teasingly and the soft sucking is enough to have Brad gripping Walt’s hair and arching his hips up in mild frustration. Walt just laughs around Brad’s cock and lets him go deeper, pressing his tongue along the vein on the underside and sucking harder. He jacks Brad off slowly, fingers slipping through his own slick spit, and it’s impossibly obscene.
Brad never wants it to stop and he might actually have whined when Walt pulls off.
”Think you can fuck me like this?” Walt asks, his voice husky. His cheeks are flushed, pupils blown, and Brad wants nothing more than to bury his cock in some part of Walt and just debauch the hell out of him. Walt is too pretty to be a Marine, should be on his knees between Brad’s legs always.
Brad relaxes his grip in Walt’s hair, smoothing down the messy tufts, and nods. “Yeah,” he says, but he doesn’t sit up straighter on the couch. He has no intentions of moving anytime soon but Walt doesn’t seem to mind in the least. “Get up here.”
Walt doesn’t hesitate before obeying, using Brad’s knees to lever himself up. The swell of his cock is obvious in his tight shorts, and Brad rubs his fingers along it slowly, thumbing the wet spot gently. Walt just lets him, sighing softly, before hooking his thumbs in his shorts and pushing them down his thighs and kicking them off.
The bob of Walt’s cock is distracting, but nearly not as much as the Walt straddling Brad’s thighs and settling in comfortably. He strokes himself slowly, watching Brad with an amused little smirk, and Brad has to force himself to reach out to the arm of the couch where his jeans are draped for his condoms and lube.
Brad hands the strip of condoms to Walt before pinching the tube of lube between his teeth. Walt’s hips are bony, but it’s easy to drag him in closer by them and Brad wonders how hard he would have to press to cover them in fingerprint sized bruises. Not that this is the time for it, but there’s tons of tequila in the world and so many things Brad wants to do with Walt with or without it.
The sound Walt makes when Brad’s slick fingers rub against his hole go straight to Brad’s cock, throbbing hard, and he rubs them against Walt harder, tracing the rim of muscle before pushing one in. It’s beautiful, the way Walt’s eyes flicker half-shut and his lips part, licking his lips wetly and moaning loudly. “Fuck, Brad.”
It’s easy to lose himself in the feeling of Walt clenching and trembling around his finger, rocking back for more. Walt’s fingers curl around Brad’s cock, smearing the mess of precum with his thumb, and he jerks him off in time with the slow press of Brad’s fingers inside of him. Brad takes his time working in a second, a third, until Walt is panting hotly against Brad’s shoulder and keening every time Brad’s fingers move inside of him, curling and stretching him.
”Please,” Walt whispers, pressing wet kisses to Brad’s skin. He clenches tight around Brad’s fingers, rocking his hips back, and his fingers curl around Brad’s cock near painfully tight. “Please,” Walt breathes again, “I’m ready.”
Brad pulls his fingers out and wipes them on Walt’s thigh, huffing a laugh when Walt just gives him a distracted pointed look. He watches as Walt struggles to tear open a condom with sweaty fingers but Walt just slaps Brad’s hand away when he reaches to take it from him to do it himself. Another bitch face, but it’s hard to take him seriously when he’s blushing down past his nipples and he’s grinding his hips forward against Brad’s stomach.
Finally, Walt gives up and tears the foil open with his teeth and a little growl. He spits the torn part onto the couch, and when he looks up at Brad and smirks Brad doesn’t think before dragging Walt in by his hair for a kiss. He tastes like shots and sweat and the heady taste of cock, but it just makes Brad’s cock throb and leak precum; he can taste himself on Walt’s tongue, it shouldn’t be nearly as sexy as it is.
Walt is determined though, and a better multitasker than Brad, because while Brad is tugging at his hair and biting at Walt’s lips and tongue, Walt manages to shift back enough to roll the condom onto Brad’s cock with sweaty fingers. He laughs breathlessly into the kiss, moaning loudly when Brad starts to suck on his tongue, and Walt wipes his hands furtively against Brad’s chest.
Brad has to force himself to stop kissing Walt, to let him push himself up onto his knees. Brad drags his nails down Walt’s back, his sides, gripping his hips tightly when Walt spills lube all over the both of them trying to slick up Brad’s cock. When Walt grips Brad tight and starts to lever himself down, Brad thinks he could die. He thinks, he didn’t prep Walt enough, because he’s not pushing in, but then Walt adjusts his grip and -
- and oh, Brad could die from this. He wants to die because Walt is so tight around the head of his cock, easing down so slowly, so hot, and nothing will ever feel better than this does now. Walt is perfect like this, his thighs clenching tight as he eases himself down onto Brad’s cock, lip pinched between his teeth and chest heaving from exertion.
It’s impossible to tell which one of them is making the breathless little keening sounds, or maybe it’s both of them, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters beyond the way Walt feels around Brad’s cock, the way his sweaty skin tastes when Brad leans forward to kiss and suck marks into his shoulders and chest. He rakes his nails across Walt’s shoulders, guiding him, holding him, and by the time Walt’s fully seated Brad’s amazed he’s still breathing.
Walt’s fingers stroke along the back of Brad’s neck, toying with the soft hairs at his hairline, and he presses his forehead to Brad’s. They kiss sloppily, more the wet press of lips and tongues than anything else, but it’s enough of a distraction for the pinched look to fade from Walt’s face and for him to relax into Brad’s lap.
”Brad,” Walt breathes out, his nails pressing in against the back of Brad’s neck. “Fuck, I don’t think- “ He rolls his hips slowly, experimentally, and Walt moans unabashedly. “I’ve never had anything this big and Jesus, just - “ His nails tighten and he keens softly. “Brad, just fucking move already.”
The breathless exasperation in Walt’s voice makes laughter bubble inside of Brad, and he presses a kiss to Walt’s jaw. He trails his fingers down Walt’s sides until he can curl them around Walt’s sweaty hips, gripping him tight, urging him up and dragging him back down. Brad arches his hips up to meet Walt’s thrusting shallowly, but it’s enough for Walt to tip his head back and moan.
And Brad knows he’s screwed for life, because he’ll do anything he has to to get Walt to moan like that for him again, licking his lips and rolling his hips to meet every thrust of Brad’s cock. So when Walt’s fingers dig in tighter, his lip pinched between his teeth again as he demands more, Brad has no choice but to obey.