GK, Corner of Your Heart, 1/1, R, Brad/Trombley, 988
Title: Corner of Your Heart
Author: sephirothflame
Fandom: Generation Kill
Rating: R
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Brad Colbert x James Trombley
Warning(s): domesticity, shameless fluff
Spoiler(s): None
Prompt(s): For janes_thomas for Valentine's Day.
Word Count: 988
Notes: Ray is only an asshole out of love.
Summary: They have a quiet relationship, mostly uncomplicated, and for the most part it works.
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.
James doesn’t even notice the explosion of pink and red at first, too busy scanning Brad’s list and trying to figure out if it means he’s welcome to crash with Brad this week. He wasn’t exactly invited to come along as it is, but Brad hadn’t told him no and their silence is companionable.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Brad says, snapping James’ attention from the list. “I forgot it was this time of year again.”
It doesn’t surprise James that Brad hates Valentine’s Day, and he’s very much in agreement with Brad’s nose wrinkle at the color scheme. Instead, he just hands Brad’s list back with a shrug and asks, “Do you think they have Reese’s on sale?”
- - -
Brad is gentle with James sometimes.
Most of the time, this thing between them - it’s impossible to explain with words. They get drunk, even though James isn’t legally old enough, and they fuck on Brad’s couch and in his bed, rubbing against each other in the shower even when they haven’t done shots.
It’s not a free pass to stay with Brad though, and James finds himself washing dishes more often than not and helping Brad fold laundry on Sundays. They don’t talk about it, James being here and earning his keep, and sometimes he’s still kicked to the couch if he wants to stay the night.
But sometimes, when Brad is tired and sore and James still wants him, they tumble into Brad’s bed and it’s slow and easy. Brad fingers him open and James peppers Brad’s chest with kisses, fingers scraping over skin as he arches up and moans. James could get off on this, just Brad’s fingers inside of him and the way Brad watches him with quiet concentration; he has, but he was drunk and new to this, and Brad doesn’t mock him for it.
James likes it though. He likes the heavy feeling in his chest when Brad drags James’ thighs around his hips and pushes into him, holding himself up on his palms and waiting for James to sigh and nod before thrusting. They don’t kiss, even like this, because Brad hates it, but James doesn’t mind. He’d rather feel Brad’s lips on his throat and chest anyways, sucking marks into his skin in quiet ownership.
There’s no rush to this, no sense of desperation. It’s just Brad taking care of James, because James needs and wants this, and it’s how James knows he’s not just some stupid kid Brad’s keeping around to put his dick in to keep it warm.
James isn’t sentimental, isn’t the prepubescent girl Ray keeps saying he is. He just likes to press his face into the crook of Brad’s neck when he comes, holding him close as his cock pulses and he tries to control his shaking. The only word on his lips is the broken moan of Brad’s name.
- - -
Ray drags Brad out the Monday before Valentine’s day, even though they’ve got work in the morning. He wants to find himself an easy lay for the next few weeks, and adds, “Brad’s always more tolerable when he gets his dick sucked often” with a knowing smirk in James’ direction.
Brad deftly pulls the snow globe from Disneyland from James’ fingers, a mildly scolding look on his face. James has nothing against Disneyland on its own, but he should be allowed to smash people’s brains in if they make fun of him.
“Don’t worry,” Ray says flippantly, “I’m sure you’ll learn to deepthroat like a pro soon enough. That’s why there are slutty girls in bars in the meantime.”
“Ray, out,” Brad barks, and he grabs James’ wrist to keep him from attacking Ray. He glares quietly until Ray laughs and practically skips out the front door, but it doesn’t keep James from simmering quietly after him. Brad’s fingers are soft on the back of James’ neck, stroking along his hairline. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“Don’t get syphilis when you’re gone,” James mutters petulantly. He drops his gaze to avoid Brad’s, staring at Brad’s sneakers sullenly. He doesn’t say anything when Brad stops rubbing the back of his neck soothingly, and when Brad releases his wrist he misses it.
“Don’t be stupid,” Brad says. He presses an awkward kiss to the corner of James’ mouth and then he’s gone, leaving James alone in his house full of things he’d love to throw at the wall in his pout. He doesn’t deny his intentions to get his dicked sucked and it’s stupid how petty and jealous that makes James feel.
- - -
In the morning, Brad is half on top of James in the bed, still mostly dressed, and he reeks of booze. It’s a struggle for James to wiggle out from under his arm and leg, trying to fight off Brad’s clinging grasp without waking him up. James would laugh, but he’s trying to be mad at Brad.
Well, he’s mad at Ray, being mad at Brad for a little while for going along with Ray is a side-effect.
James goes to the kitchen to make eggs and bacon, because he’s been around long enough to know it makes Brad feel sicker in the mornings - enough that he’ll puke and feel better. Or it could just be that James is kind of shit at cooking, but he’s never really had to do it for himself before.
He’s taken aback by the stack of Reese’s cups on the table, a leaning tower that managed to stay up all night on its own. There’s nothing but a drug store receipt to accompany them, and James doesn’t know if he’s surprised that the counts don’t match up, but he doesn’t care. He just opens one up and brushes his annoyances to the back of his mind, and starts to make breakfast.
Cracking the eggs into the pan, James doesn’t think about anything at all.
Author: sephirothflame
Fandom: Generation Kill
Rating: R
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Brad Colbert x James Trombley
Warning(s): domesticity, shameless fluff
Spoiler(s): None
Prompt(s): For janes_thomas for Valentine's Day.
Word Count: 988
Notes: Ray is only an asshole out of love.
Summary: They have a quiet relationship, mostly uncomplicated, and for the most part it works.
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.
James doesn’t even notice the explosion of pink and red at first, too busy scanning Brad’s list and trying to figure out if it means he’s welcome to crash with Brad this week. He wasn’t exactly invited to come along as it is, but Brad hadn’t told him no and their silence is companionable.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Brad says, snapping James’ attention from the list. “I forgot it was this time of year again.”
It doesn’t surprise James that Brad hates Valentine’s Day, and he’s very much in agreement with Brad’s nose wrinkle at the color scheme. Instead, he just hands Brad’s list back with a shrug and asks, “Do you think they have Reese’s on sale?”
- - -
Brad is gentle with James sometimes.
Most of the time, this thing between them - it’s impossible to explain with words. They get drunk, even though James isn’t legally old enough, and they fuck on Brad’s couch and in his bed, rubbing against each other in the shower even when they haven’t done shots.
It’s not a free pass to stay with Brad though, and James finds himself washing dishes more often than not and helping Brad fold laundry on Sundays. They don’t talk about it, James being here and earning his keep, and sometimes he’s still kicked to the couch if he wants to stay the night.
But sometimes, when Brad is tired and sore and James still wants him, they tumble into Brad’s bed and it’s slow and easy. Brad fingers him open and James peppers Brad’s chest with kisses, fingers scraping over skin as he arches up and moans. James could get off on this, just Brad’s fingers inside of him and the way Brad watches him with quiet concentration; he has, but he was drunk and new to this, and Brad doesn’t mock him for it.
James likes it though. He likes the heavy feeling in his chest when Brad drags James’ thighs around his hips and pushes into him, holding himself up on his palms and waiting for James to sigh and nod before thrusting. They don’t kiss, even like this, because Brad hates it, but James doesn’t mind. He’d rather feel Brad’s lips on his throat and chest anyways, sucking marks into his skin in quiet ownership.
There’s no rush to this, no sense of desperation. It’s just Brad taking care of James, because James needs and wants this, and it’s how James knows he’s not just some stupid kid Brad’s keeping around to put his dick in to keep it warm.
James isn’t sentimental, isn’t the prepubescent girl Ray keeps saying he is. He just likes to press his face into the crook of Brad’s neck when he comes, holding him close as his cock pulses and he tries to control his shaking. The only word on his lips is the broken moan of Brad’s name.
- - -
Ray drags Brad out the Monday before Valentine’s day, even though they’ve got work in the morning. He wants to find himself an easy lay for the next few weeks, and adds, “Brad’s always more tolerable when he gets his dick sucked often” with a knowing smirk in James’ direction.
Brad deftly pulls the snow globe from Disneyland from James’ fingers, a mildly scolding look on his face. James has nothing against Disneyland on its own, but he should be allowed to smash people’s brains in if they make fun of him.
“Don’t worry,” Ray says flippantly, “I’m sure you’ll learn to deepthroat like a pro soon enough. That’s why there are slutty girls in bars in the meantime.”
“Ray, out,” Brad barks, and he grabs James’ wrist to keep him from attacking Ray. He glares quietly until Ray laughs and practically skips out the front door, but it doesn’t keep James from simmering quietly after him. Brad’s fingers are soft on the back of James’ neck, stroking along his hairline. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“Don’t get syphilis when you’re gone,” James mutters petulantly. He drops his gaze to avoid Brad’s, staring at Brad’s sneakers sullenly. He doesn’t say anything when Brad stops rubbing the back of his neck soothingly, and when Brad releases his wrist he misses it.
“Don’t be stupid,” Brad says. He presses an awkward kiss to the corner of James’ mouth and then he’s gone, leaving James alone in his house full of things he’d love to throw at the wall in his pout. He doesn’t deny his intentions to get his dicked sucked and it’s stupid how petty and jealous that makes James feel.
- - -
In the morning, Brad is half on top of James in the bed, still mostly dressed, and he reeks of booze. It’s a struggle for James to wiggle out from under his arm and leg, trying to fight off Brad’s clinging grasp without waking him up. James would laugh, but he’s trying to be mad at Brad.
Well, he’s mad at Ray, being mad at Brad for a little while for going along with Ray is a side-effect.
James goes to the kitchen to make eggs and bacon, because he’s been around long enough to know it makes Brad feel sicker in the mornings - enough that he’ll puke and feel better. Or it could just be that James is kind of shit at cooking, but he’s never really had to do it for himself before.
He’s taken aback by the stack of Reese’s cups on the table, a leaning tower that managed to stay up all night on its own. There’s nothing but a drug store receipt to accompany them, and James doesn’t know if he’s surprised that the counts don’t match up, but he doesn’t care. He just opens one up and brushes his annoyances to the back of his mind, and starts to make breakfast.
Cracking the eggs into the pan, James doesn’t think about anything at all.