GK, As you lose your sense of ground, 3/7, R, Brad/Nate, 7,195
Title: As you lose your sense of ground
Author: sephirothflame
Fandom: Generation Kill
Rating: R
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Brad Colbert x Nate Fick, Walt Hasser, Ray Person (unrequited Walt/Ray)
Warning(s): AU - angels, adult language, adult situations, homophobic slurs, one night stands, unrequited love
Spoiler(s): N/A
Prompt(s): N/A
Word Count: 7,195
Master List: fic | verse
Notes: Part the first
Summary: No one has ever made Brad's Grace respond the way Nate 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 news of their upcoming deployment goes over about as well as could be expected. With no definite date on when they’re shipping out, besides a vague assurance it won’t be until the middle of January, it’s hard to process things. They’ve got a few weeks to work themselves up - or down, whatever the case may be - and that’s fine.
It could be worse.
Nate looks frustrated at the lack of information, and everyone seems to have noticed. “Rest assured, I’ll keep you all updated. In the meantime, Gunny’s got a copy of the pre-deployment checklist. You might want to get started, just in case.”
”This is bullshit,” Poke says after they’re dismissed. His annoyance isn’t directed at anyone in particular, but then again, Brad thinks Poke likes Nate. Most of them do and with good reason. “What the hell am I supposed to tell my wife?”
”That you’ll be home for Christmas,” Pappy says. He blinks slowly, but the corners of his lips are tipped down in a frown. “And after that, who knows?”
”Bullshit,” Poke reiterates. He thins his lips and makes an annoyed sound, before he sighs in frustration. “Guess I’m going to the PX after work.”
Brad knows that feeling. He wonders if he has enough green blouses left from his last deployment and the stockpile he manages to accumulate or if he needs to buy more as well. The list is basically the same, regardless of where they go. He should be fine.
”At least we’re finally deploying,” Lovell says. “Fucking finally.”
There’s a murmur of agreement, regardless of feelings on the deployment itself. This conclusion was inevitable. It’s nice to finally have a timeline for it, so they can prepare and get it over with.
* * *
The slip of paper with Nate’s number sits on Brad’s coffee table through the night. The paper is starting to wear away from Brad’s fingers rubbing it, memorizing the ten digits and trying to decide when he’s supposed to call. It’s only Thursday, and they have work tomorrow.
Despite the fact Brad is a fan of casual hookups and one night stands, he’s not exactly sure what the protocol is for friends with benefits. Because, that’s certainly what his relationship with Nate is boiling down to, though the term friends might be a little loose. Fuck buddies just sounds too crude.
Brad has never woken up in bed with someone besides his ex-fiancé, not when he was sober enough to tuck tail and run. Brad doesn’t want a relationship, he’s not good at them. He’s never had the practice and he’s not sure he’ll ever need it.
The thing with Nate, their mixed up, messed up relationship, it’s just messing with Brad’s head even more. It should be easy to just pick up his phone and dial Nate’s, asking how he feels about the Super 8 a few miles away or if he would rather just come back here. Nate has a roommate, probably a Marine, so his place is certainly off limits.
Nate is more complicated than he has any right to be, and he’s barely even done anything to make Brad this frustrated. Rudy would call out Brad’s karma, and at this point, Brad thinks he might be ready to start believing it.
Brad doesn’t call, though he wants to. It’s Thursday and it’s Nate, and Brad needs the time to wrap his head around the fact he’s really going to do this before he jumps headfirst into it. He doesn’t want to mess up this thing with Nate before it gets too far, doesn’t want to lose the opportunity to press against him and hold him tight.
It isn’t just about the sex, but if that’s all Nate’s willing to offer, Brad will take what he can get.
* * *
Friday starts with an invitation to a barbeque at Poke’s and Brad’s presence is mandatory and demanded by Gina. Poke holds his hands up in a placating gesture, though there’s a smirk crooking the corners of his lips up.
Brad objects, but it’s more out of habit than anything. He doesn’t mind spending time with Poke, as much as Poke’s friendship was forced upon Brad by the man himself, and Gina is nice. Even their daughters aren’t so horrible, though Brad has never been a fan of children.
Gunny accepts the invitation graciously, though he can’t promise Tara’s presence. He does promise homemade salsa and that seems to placate Poke in the time being.
”Gina says to invite the LT,” Poke says, though he seems unsure. “Fick’s a hell of a lot better than some of the officers we’ve had, but…” Nate is a stickler for the fraternization rule, or at least he tries to be.
Except when it comes to fucking one of the Sergeants he commands over, but Brad doesn’t bring that up.
”Ask him anyways,” Mike says. “Give him the choice. Ain’t nothing wrong with boosting morale by sharing a couple of burgers and beers.”
”I knew I liked you for a reason,” Poke says, and there’s an easy grin on his face. He claps Mike’s arm gently, before adding, “I gotta go double check Lilley labeled the field kits right before anyone else does.”
Mike and Brad both offer goodbyes, though neither of them moves. Brad doesn’t know what to do about it, because he’s done nothing wrong, but Mike is looking at him like maybe he knows something’s up. “You feeling alright, Colbert?”
Brad blinks slowly and feels his wings twitch. “Gunny?”
”Just noticed you’ve been distracted since the new LT showed up,” Mike says. There aren’t any accusations, but his tone is careful and he watches Brad’s face for any sign of a response. “Just making sure you’ve got your head on straight.”
”I’m fine,” Brad says, and it isn’t exactly a lie. He could tell Mike he has family issues, but it’s none of Mike’s damn business. He feels a little stupid, because of course someone was bound to notice the way Brad and Nate have been dancing around each other since Nate showed up. Brad works with Recon Marines. He’d be embarrassed on their behalf if no one ever figured it out.
”Good,” Mike says. He pats Brad’s bicep, and says, “Gotta make another coffee run before the day starts. Person spilled mine on his way in.”
”Go fucking figure,” Brad says, but it lacks heat. He twitches his lip up in a smile when Mike laughs, and Brad watches him go before he makes his way over to his own desk.
He has to be more careful, then. It was reckless to think he could stare at Nate and go unnoticed, but he doesn’t feel like he’s been acting any differently since Nate’s arrival. He still feels like himself. He’s still distant and quiet and sarcastic. The only one who should be able to feel a difference at all is Walt, and he’s too hung up over his school boy crush to delve into Brad’s personal life.
Still, Brad will take the quiet warning and keep it in mind. It doesn’t do any good for attention to be called on him, and the ramifications for Nate will only be worse.
* * *
Brad buys giant lollypops for Poke’s girls, and shoots Gina a death glare when she grins at him. He’s not as soft as she thinks he is, though he will occasionally admit to having a soft spot for these two in particular. They’re better mannered then Brad’s nieces, but they’re not as spoiled by their grandmother, either.
”Most people just bring potato salad,” Gina says, and she pinches Brad’s belly. “Thank god you didn’t.”
”I hate potato salad,” Brad replies. He doesn’t need Gina to lead him to the backyard, has been to the Espera household more than enough times to find the way on his own, but he follows her regardless. “You didn’t let the girls help you with the pie again, did you?”
Gina hums and shakes her head. “We made cake instead. Harder to mess up. I’d stay away from the lemonade though, it’s a little on the sweet side.”
”I appreciate the warning,” Brad says and Gina grins up at him. He doesn’t tell her he’s going to bother Poke, but Gina doesn’t object to Brad’s departure outside of a swat to his ass that has him glowering over his shoulder at her.
Most of the time, Gina is harmless. Brad is determined not to let his guard down around her, because she’s tricky when she wants to be. Swatting his ass playfully and smiling innocently when he glowers is just the tip of the iceberg.
”Gina picking on you?” Poke asks, when Brad reaches him. He’s struggling to hook a propane tank up to his grill and curses when it objects. “Tried to convince her to spend a couple of grand on one of those fancy outdoor kitchens but she said sending the girls to college was more important.”
”You want them to turn out better than you, don’t you?” Brad asks. He doesn’t offer to help, but Poke seems to figure the grill out on his own. “Besides, you’re a Marine. Who’s to say you’d even be around long enough to enjoy it.”
”That was also one of her arguments,” Poke confesses. He stands up and wipes his hands on his jeans. “Right. Gina’s had the girls setting up all morning, so there’s nothing for you to do besides fetch me a beer.”
Brad quirks an eyebrow. “You would send a guest after alcohol at your own home?”
”Maybe I just like seeing a white boy doing what I tell him,” Poke says, grinning. He pokes Brad’s chest with grill tongs. “Go, fetch.”
Brad flips Poke off, but it doesn’t stop him from going in search of the red cooler that always lurks around Poke's barbeques in order to pull out two drinks. There’s not enough to get everyone wasted, but there are a spattering of kids due to show up and it’s probably for the best.
* * *
Nate shows up after the first round of burgers have come off the grill and the backyard has slowly started to fill with Bravo 2 Marines and their significant others. He’s got Tara’s arm looped through his elbow, smiling awkwardly, and he passes off a box of store bought sugar cookies as soon as he’s close enough to Gina to do so.
He pointedly doesn’t look at Brad, but if Gina and Tara don’t notice, they don’t comment.
”I had no idea what to bring,” Nate says awkwardly. “I can’t actually stay, but since you were kind enough to invite me, I thought…” His words trail off, but he smiles and it seems to disarm Gina.
”You sure you don’t want a burger for the road, at least?” Tara asks. “I’m sure Tony can heat one up quick enough.” She has to stand on her tiptoes to be able to peer over Nate’s shoulder in the direction of the grill, though she doesn’t let go of Nate to give him the opportunity to flee.
”I’m sure, but thank you,” Nate says. He wets his lips and looks at Brad, the corner of his lip twitching in a secret smile and Brad can practically hear his silent laughter of Marine wives. “Brad.”
”Sir,” Brad replies. It’s nice to be acknowledged, if only for a moment. “Nate.”
”I really ought to be going,” Nate says apologetically. He covers Tara’s hand with his own, easing her fingers from around his elbow. His charming smile doesn’t fade and Tara relents. “It was nice to meet you, ma’am.”
”Gina is fine.” She smiles. “Thank you for the cookies. I’m sure the kids will have them devoured in no time.”
Nate sticks around long enough to say thank Poke for the invitation, trading hellos with Mike and anyone else he runs into. He makes his rounds quickly, and he doesn’t seem the least bit surprised that Brad choses the opportunity to lean against the doorjamb of the back door and blocks his access to the house.
“Brad,” Nate says again.
”Allow me to escort you out,” Brad says, and when Nate doesn’t object, he pushes off the door and lets Nate pass. There’s no one in the house to see them, not that Brad can tell, and he lets his fingers brush against Nate’s elbow as he guides him to the front door. “You have plans for this evening?”
Nate looks at Brad contemplatively for a moment, before shrugging a shoulder. He pushes open the front door and doesn’t seem surprised that Brad follows him to his shiny Volvo. “I’ve been waiting for a call. Figured I’d go to Border’s to take my mind off of it.”
The hint isn’t as subtle as it should be, but Brad doesn’t know what to expect. He puts his hand on Nate’s car door, stopping him from escaping. He lowers his voice. “I’m stuck here for a few hours. If you’ve got nothing to do after that, you know where I live.”
For a moment, Nate is quiet. He’s weighing his options or working up the courage, before he nods. “I’ll see you then.”
”Have fun at the bookstore,” Brad says, stepping away from Nate’s car. This time, he doesn’t wait for Nate to leave before he turns on his heels and heads back inside. It feels good to be the one walking away first. Brad doesn’t even understand why, just that it does.
He’s got a few hours to kill before he can make a break for it, and even then he’s likely to stay let to help Poke and Gina clean up. He doesn’t mind. They’re good people, and the girls are likely to have worn themselves out by then so they won’t be underfoot.
Until then, Brad gets to loiter at the fringes of Poke’s yard, drinking too sweet lemonade and ice cold beer, arguing about the worth of MMORPGs with Ray and Holsey until they’re finally kicked out. It’s not a bad way to spend a Saturday. Brad might even miss it when they deploy.
* * *
Brad is on the phone with his mother when there’s a knocking at the front door, but he doesn’t bother to attempt to hang up on her before he answers it. She’ll just call him back to keep talking, and keep him on the line even longer. She's spiteful when she wants to be.
Nate’s hands are shoved in his pockets and his shoulders are slumped, but he doesn’t hesitate in stepping into Brad’s house after the door opens for him.
”Mom, I have to go,” Brad says. He rolls his eyes at Nate’s questioning glance and sighs. “I promise I’ll be there on time to light the first candle next weekend. I can’t promise about any of the other days, but I’ll try.”
Hanukkah?, Nate mouths, and Brad nods his head.
It doesn’t take long for Brad’s mother to hang up, though he has to reassure her time and time again that he’ll be there. It’s not often he’s in town for it, and she won’t let him live down the time he outright forgot.
”Sorry,” Brad says.
”It’s fine.” Nate doesn’t move from the center of Brad’s living room, though he does take in the large TV and leather couch. He looks like he wants to ask something, but he bites his tongue. “I don’t know how to do this.”
Brad can only guess what this is, but he’s pretty sure he’s got a fair clue. Brad doesn’t either, if he’s honest, but he’s probably had more experience than Nate has. Usually he just needs to hand over a stack of bills and head into his bedroom. It’s straight forward. If he and Nate aren’t friends, but he isn’t paying for it, Brad’s not sure how much foreplay or seduction is required.
Foreplay and seduction have never been Brad’s strong points. It’s probably why his relationships have never lasted long in the past, but it doesn’t surprise him that it would bite him in the ass now.
”Do you want a drink?” Brad offers, because it seems as safe a bet as any.
”Please,” Nate says. His cautious look doesn’t fade, though he follows Brad into the kitchen and accepts the drink with a small smile. “Thank you.”
Brad twists the top off of his own beer and tips his head back to chug as much of it as he can. It does no good to be too drunk to enjoy this, but there’s no harm in drinking it now. He’s already got a light buzz and the alcohol won’t get in the way of the sex they’re not having.
Nate drinks his own beer, though slower, before he speaks again. “I think we need to establish rules.” His gaze is steady when he looks at Brad, and his voice doesn’t waver. “Boundaries.”
”Agreed,” Brad says. It’s not something he would have thought of on his own, maybe, but he could see how they might be important. He can definitely see why Nate would think of them and why they would even matter. Brad’s pretty sure Nate’s not the kind of guy to take unnecessary risks, outside of fucking Brad, in any case.
”Only during the weekends,” Nate starts. He waits for Brad to nod his agreement before continuing. “In the future, it would probably be better if we met at a neutral location. A motel.” Brad makes a sound in understanding, and Nate seems to gain confidence. “I think it’s safest that no one knows. We use condoms and lube and I would like it if you - we - could get tested.”
It shouldn’t surprise Brad that Nate makes the request, but it comes as a low blow. Brad is clean, because he’s careful, but the last time he fucked Nate was without a condom and he can understand why Nate was worried. It’s not hard to catch The Pox and there would be no easy way to explain how they both got the same strain to the Corps.
Nate takes another sip of his beer and stares at Brad expectantly. “If you have anything to add?”
Brad has to think about it, but nothing comes to mind. If this isn’t going to be much different than sleeping with a prostitute, then Nate has already covered the basics. “No kissing,” Brad adds, and he’s surprised that Nate looks slightly taken aback. The expression is gone in a second though, and Nate schools his features. “Too personal. Wouldn’t want you to get too attached.”
”Agreed,” Nate says. He puts his bottle on the counter gently before moving into Brad’s space, pushing him back against the counter and pinning him in. He rests his hands on either side of Brad’s hips and his expression is quiet and determined when he meets Brad’s gaze. “Think you can handle this, Brad?”
Even if he can’t, Brad certainly knows he wants to try. The way his Grace is warming up just from having Nate near him is more than enough reason to consent. “I do.”
”Then I just have one last request,” Nate says. His gaze doesn’t falter, though he wets his lips slowly and Brad can’t help but stare. “I would like a fluidity in who gets to top. Not necessarily alternating nights, but on occasion, I reserve the right to fuck you as much as you do to me.”
Brad sucks in a breath without thinking about it and nods. He doesn’t bottom, not often, but he doesn’t think he’d mind it much if Nate was the one inside of him. “These terms are perfectly acceptable.”
”Good,” Nate says. He leans forward, but seems to catch himself. He presses his lips against Brad’s jaw, his breath soft against Brad’s skin and it makes his hair stand up and his feathers prickle. “Then I would like to fuck you, now.”
Brad has absolutely no desire to object.
* * *
Nate is gentle when he pushes Brad’s shoulders against the mattress, and he takes his time slicking his fingers up and pushing them inside of Brad. His lips trail soft kisses down Brad’s spine, soothing him even as he urges Brad to take more, stretching inside of him, and he nips gently every now and then to distract Brad from the burn.
When Nate pulls his fingers out, Brad suddenly feels empty, but it isn’t long before Nate is rolling on a condom and rubbing the slick head of his cock against Brad’s hole. It feels to big, too blunt, but it makes it past the ring of muscles and Brad bites his tongue and fists the covers to keep from making too much noise.
It’s a slow process, Nate pushing inside of Brad, holding himself back to avoid pain and draw this out even longer. It has Brad’s thighs trembling in exertion from holding still to take it, to let Nate set the pace. The moment Nate bottoms out, his hips flush against Brad’s ass and his lips on the nape of Brad’s neck, Brad can feel the snap in his wings as he tries to stretch them as far as he can, the muscles as tight as his thighs and arms.
The splay of his feathers aches, but it’s better than the feeling of Nate moving through them, his fingers dragging down Brad’s stomach to his cock, stroking slowly as he starts to move. Brad has no idea how he’s supposed to breathe through this, when Nate is being so slow and gentle, but there’s a pleasure burning down his spine and settling in his gut, and Brad never wants it to end.
* * *
They lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, but there is no point of contact between them and that aches almost as much as being fucked does. Nate is quiet as he tries to regulate his breathing, huffing every now and then to help catch his breath, and Brad has never wanted to touch him as much as he does now.
The silences stretches on and Brad offers a quiet, “that wasn’t horrible.”
Nate makes a sound, a snorting laugh, and he tips his head to the side to look at Brad. “It’s nice to know I haven’t completely disappointed you in bed,” he says wryly, the corner of his lip twitching up into a grin.
Brad wants to kiss him, but knows better than to try. He doesn’t say he likes it better when he’s the one pounding into Nate, because it’s not necessarily true, though he certainly wouldn’t object if he was the one topping more often than not. This certainly wasn’t bad. Brad enjoyed it. He’s just not sure how to deal with the ache in his spine and ass and thighs. “Was this a successful trial run for you, Sir?”
”Nate.” A quiet correction, though his smile fades and he looks at Brad through tired, half-lidded eyes. “Please don’t call me Sir when we’re - like this.” Nate frowns at his own pause, before staring back up at the ceiling and sighing heavily. “I think it was good.”
”Good,” Brad echoes. Their sex was good. It should be enough for Brad, but it isn’t. It annoys him that Nate thinks it was less than perfect, because Brad has never been a bad lay and because he wants to give Nate everything. He can damn well do better than good in bed. “Next week is Hanukkah, but after that…”
”We’ll see,” Nate says. He doesn’t look at Brad again, and after a moment he pushes himself up onto his elbows and sits up. “Thank you.”
”Don’t,” Brad says quietly. He doesn’t move from his spot on the bed, though he spreads his wings out to capture the warmth from the spot Nate has left behind. “Don’t thank me.”
Nate smiles, soft and small. “My apologies.” He gets dressed slowly, and Brad has to force his eyes to stay on the ceiling to keep from staring. “I’ll see you on Monday,” Nate says quietly. He stands by the foot of the bed, waiting for something, before he sighs and turns on his heels.
Brad doesn’t roll over until he hears the front door click shut behind Nate, and even then he only moves far enough to press his face into the bedspread and stretch out on his belly. It reeks of sex and Nate, but it’s cool against his skin and Brad lets himself drown in the feeling. It’s the closest he’s going to get to Nate himself, and Brad doesn’t want to let him go.
* * *
Brad’s life doesn’t change much, despite everything that’s going on around him. He deals with it as he always has, with as little emotion as he can and as efficiently as possible. Hanukkah comes and goes and their deployment gets closer, drowning the base in a fervor that only comes around when people are getting ready to ship out.
There are lectures at work, followed by drills and every day starts with an early morning PT session. Gunny is drilling them to the bone, because he knows they can take it and he knows that they’ll be better for it. Mike and Nate are determined to make sure all of them are fit for deployment and no one can fault them for that.
Nate is an enigma on the best of the days, and the holidays and the looming promise of Afghanistan only complicate matters. The only time Brad’s ever sure of what Nate’s thinking is when they’re pressed together between motel room sheets, rocking against each other and helping each other to completion. Even then, Nate’s mind doesn’t seem to be completely on his impending orgasm.
Brad’s tests come back clean, but he was expecting that they would. He keeps the results in the glove compartment of his Jeep, waiting until he can give them to Nate. It doesn’t mean they get to fuck without condoms, but it puts Nate more at ease, and that alone is worth it. Nate’s results are clean too, but that doesn’t surprise Brad in the least.
Life moves on. Brad does his best to keep up with it.
* * *
”I’m done being in love,” Walt declares over pizza and beer. There’s a drunken certainty to his words, and Brad almost admires him for it. “Love is horrible and only complicates things.”
”You have reached your limit,” Eric says with a tired fondness. He steals another piece of pizza from the box and doesn’t react to Walt’s sullen glare. “Shut up and pass me the ranch.”
Brad thinks this might be the last time he gets a chance to spend a night with his friends in the comfort of his own home. They don’t have an official date for when they’re leaving, but December flies by and Christmas is only a few days away. There isn’t much time for them left.
”Brad, tell Kocher he’s a dick,” Walt huffs. He points the bottle of ranch at Eric, though he doesn’t hand it over. The flush on his cheeks almost matches the sauce on his pizza, and Brad thinks Eric was probably right about Walt reaching his limit.
”Walt, stop being a pain in the ass,” Brad says. He snags the ranch out of Walt’s hands and hands it to Eric, before taking a slow drag of his own beer. He’s not entirely sure how he ended up here, with another angel and an old friend at his dinner table, but he doesn’t mind.
The only thing Brad minds these days, really, is something he has no control about. He’s moving on though, maybe, or at least he’s trying. It’s hard to move on when he falls into bed with the main object of his frustrations for a few minutes every weekend, but it’s still better than pining endlessly.
”I hate being in love,” Walt reiterates, and Brad raises his glass in a quiet toast. Walt blinks at him in surprise, before clinking his drink to Brad’s, and it’s only a moment before Eric lifts his and clinks in as well.
Things are changing, Brad thinks. He just wishes he knew if it was for better or worse.
* * *
The base is quiet on Christmas Eve. Anyone who could make it home for the week has already fled. One last holiday before they’re gone, shipped off to the desert for who knows how long. Brad actually kind of likes it this way. It makes it easy to get into the warehouse when he has to root around for his flash drive, and he isn’t the least bit surprised to see Nate sitting at his desk and rubbing his temples.
Brad knocks on the window to Nate’s office, and Nate looks too tired to be startled when he looks up. He frowns, but waves Brad in, and Brad offers him a quiet, “hey.”
Nate holds up a finger to silence Brad as he finishes the e-mail he was reading, before he twists his swivel chair to face Brad proper. “Shouldn’t you be with your family?”
”My family is Jewish,” Brad says slowly. “They wouldn’t care less if I was able to visit them or not today.”
”That’s not - “ Nate starts, but he princes the bridge of his nose and sighs. “I’m sorry, I know. I just meant with everything that’s happening…” Nate’s voice trails off and he makes no attempt to finish his sentence.
”Unless you know something I don’t about the deployment, then no, I don’t,” Brad says. He holds up a flash drive and says, “forgot this here yesterday.” He could have lived without it for the weekend, sure, but Brad has nothing better to do than plug away at spreadsheets. This isn’t a holiday he has ever cared about.
Nate’s lips thin, and he looks exhausted when he meets Brad’s eyes.
”Fuck,” Brad says. He sits down in the seat opposite of Nate’s desk and tries not to feel anything. He’s been comfortably numb about the upcoming deployment, there’s no reason that should change now. “When?”
”The eighteenth,” Nate says. He rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes and sighs heavily, frustrated. “I got the news this morning. I need to start making phone calls, but I thought I’d wait until the day after tomorrow.”
Nate wants to give the men a mostly happy Christmas with their families. Having a date, that makes it official in a way a vague confirmation hasn’t. A date gives them a proper timeline and means they really do need to start preparing and panicking. Nate is trying to soften the blow, and Brad doesn’t know if that’s endearing or frustrating that he’s holding out.
”Sir,” Brad says quietly. It’s the only thing he can think to say to break the silence.
”I don’t want to be alone tonight,” Nate says. The confession is quiet, barely audible, and Nate is too tired to be annoyed at himself. He looks at Brad, not quite pleading, but it’s enough for Brad to understand.
”Hotel?” Brad asks. His skin is crawling, because they shouldn’t be talking about this here. They shouldn’t be having this conversation at all, not when Nate just told Brad they’re leaving in a few weeks. They should be with their families, their friends, not with each other. Brad’s sure that’s how these things are supposed to go.
”I don’t care,” Nate says. He rubs at his face tiredly and looks at his computer. “I need to get back to Patterson about something.”
”Come by my place when you’re done,” Brad offers. “I’ll make you something to eat and help you take your mind off of it.”
Nate doesn’t seem thrilled by the prospects, but he doesn’t object, either. He nods his head weakly before forcing himself to sit up in his chair. He stretches, groaning, and Brad wants nothing more than to drag him in bed and tuck him in. Nate doesn’t say anything when Brad stands up and leaves, but Brad wasn’t expecting him to.
* * *
It’s starting to get dark by the time Nate shows up, and he looks dead on his feet. He objects when Brad tries to guide him to the couch and insists on joining him at the kitchen table for dinner. “I don’t care if it’s fucking top ramen, you made it for me, I’m going to eat it.”
This is a side of Brad’s not sure how to deal with, but the doesn’t think he objects. He likes watching Nate eat, even if he does pick at his chicken and pasta, because it means at least he’s taking in some nutrients. He’s hardly thin, but he could stand to gain a few pounds.
Brad might be more like his mother than he cares to admit, and he blames his fretting entirely on her and not the way his Grace aches when Nate is near. He just wants to make sure Nate takes care of himself; it has nothing to do with any lingering affections and everything to do with the fact that he’ll soon be leading them into war.
It takes a while, but Nate manages to eat almost everything on his plate and he wipes his face with a napkin when he’s done. It’s stilted and quiet, but Nate doesn’t attempt to fill the silence with polite chatter and Brad doesn’t blame him.
It’s not until Brad puts the dishes in the sink to wash later that Nate sidles up behind him, his hands on Brad’s hips and his forehead resting at the top of Brad’s spine. “Do you want to get some sleep?”
”No,” Nate says quietly. He lets his hands wander, sliding up under Brad’s shirt and simply resting over his chest. “I just.” Nate sighs and drops his hands. “I need you.”
There’s emotion there that Brad won’t pretend to understand, but it doesn’t stop him from turning around and drawing Nate in close. He brushes his fingers along Nate’s jaw, pressing his thumb against the seam of Nate’s lips until Nate’s tongue peaks and wets the tip of it. “You sure you’re up for this?”
”I’m a Marine,” Nate says with tired indignation. “I am always up for sex.”
”I’ll be sure to hold you to that,” Brad says. He grins, and Nate smiles weakly at him in response. He leans in slowly, giving Nate a chance to back away, but Nate doesn’t and Brad brushes their lips together in a soft kiss.
It was one of their rules. One of the rules that Brad made, even, but Nate doesn’t call him out on breaking it. Their lips move slowly together, gentle presses, and warm sighs. When Brad’s tongue touches Nate’s lower lip, Nate’s lips part, and Brad can taste the carbonara on Nate’s tongue.
They take their time, barely touching except for Nate’s hands on Brad’s chest and Brad’s on Nate’s hips. Nate moans softly into Brad’s mouth when Brad sucks his tongue and he lets Brad drag him in close. There’s a warmth spreading through Brad’s veins, through his Grace, something soft and slow, and Brad lets it guide him in the gentle kiss until they have to part for air.
”Bed?” Nate asks.
”Bed,” Brad agrees.
They move slowly, despite the fact Nate has been here before and he’s bound to remember where Brad’s room is. They don’t touch at all on the way, but Nate stands in the middle of Brad’s room and lets Brad’s fingers skim down his side and tug his shirt out of his cammies and over his head. Nate’s back is naked except for a spattering of freckles on his shoulder blades, and Brad presses his mouth to the top of his spine.
Brad thinks, you’re beautiful and I love you but he doesn’t voice them. He doesn’t want to leave, not now, not tonight. In a few weeks, he’s going to have to give Nate up for good in the desert and Brad wants to treasure the sight and feel of him for as long as he can.
Nate undoes his own belt, his zipper, but he doesn’t object when Brad guides him to the bed and crouches down to undo his boots. Nate’s uniform is strewn across Brad’s bedroom but Brad can’t help but think it belongs there. Nate’s hands cup Brad’s jaw, his thighs spreading wide as Brad kneels between them, and Nate exhales softly. “Don’t.”
Brad has no idea what Nate is telling him no to. He eases Nate’s hands down with his own, squeezing Nate’s fingers between his own. He kisses Nate’s knee softly, nuzzling his cheek against it, before kissing up his thigh. Before Brad even makes it to Nate’s cock, it’s already starting to swell, but Nate shies away from further contact. “Nate?”
Shaking his head, Nate pulls his fingers away from Brad’s and scoots back the bed. His knees tuck under his chin and he’s looking at Brad like he’s something foreign. “Get naked,” Nate tells him, and, “come here.”
He might not understand what Nate wants, but it doesn’t stop Brad from obeying him. He undoes the buttons on his shirt slowly, letting it slip over his shoulders and down the floor. His undershirt comes up just as slowly, and Brad takes his time in undoing the button on his khakis and pushing them down his thighs.
By the time Brad is naked and gets a knee up on the mattress, Nate’s cheeks have started to flush and one of his hands has disappeared between his thighs and his belly to stroke himself slowly. Brad would be content to watch Nate get himself off, but he wants and aches for Nate from the core of his being, and he isn’t going to pass the chance up.
Nate’s thighs fall apart as Brad inches towards him, and he lies back on the mattress with the slightest pressure against his shoulders. Licking his lips, Nate looks up at Brad through half lidded eyes and asks, “how do you want to do this?”
”I don’t care,” Brad says, and it’s the truth. He’s content to just catch his weight on his elbows on either side of Nate’s head, drawing him in for another slow kiss while their hips line up between them and they start to grind. It’s slow and sweet, everything sex between them isn’t supposed to be, and Brad can feel his heart pounding in his chest the longer it drags on.
They ease apart long enough for Brad to get one of Nate’s thighs between his own, and when he arches his hips forward again, his cock rubs against the curve of Nate’s hip bone. His skin is soft and dry except for where Brad is leaking precum onto his skin, but it’s perfect. He can feel the pressure of Nate’s cock on his skin, the same wetness slicking him up, and Nate’s hips press up to rock against Brad in turn.
Nate’s fingers trace Brad’s shoulder blades, his nails scraping gently, a soft moan escaping him when Brad sucks a kiss against the corner of his jaw. His fingers press in and his hips arch up, but he doesn’t demand more and Brad is glad.
The slow way they grind together has Brad’s breath catching with every spike of pleasure. His wings stretch and curl, almost outside of his control as he tries to find some way to press closer to Nate, to cover him completely and keep them locked in this moment forever. His heart stutters in his chest and Nate works his hand between their bellies to capture both their cocks in his long fingers.
He doesn’t jack them off, not exactly, but the pressure of his grip and the heat of Nate’s cock against Brad’s is amazing. Brad digs his knees into the mattress and pushes his cock into Nate’s hand for more, moaning as he nips at Nate’s jaw. Their precum slicks together, easing the dry friction, and Brad’s entire body and Grace throbs when the head of Nate’s cock catches against the crown of Brad’s and he comes with a muffled groan.
Nate doesn’t let go of Brad as his cock pulses, working him through it. When Nate comes hot and messy against the underside of Brad’s cock, Brad nearly keens. They stay pressed together long after they’re done coming, and Brad presses soft kisses to the curve of Nate’s jaw. He doesn’t want to get out of this bed, out of Nate’s arms, and Nate doesn’t ask him to.
They’re going to have to talk about this, later. About how they both completely disregarded the rules they’d set for themselves to keep from getting too close. The boundaries were designed to keep their careers safe, to keep things from getting too personal and for them to develop feelings that have no right being there. Feelings Brad has had since he saw Nate the first time, if his Grace is anything to go by.
But Nate doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even open his eyes. His breathing is ragged, the only sign he’s still alive, but his lip twitches up into a smile when Brad nips at his chin. “I’m too tired to move,” Nate murmurs.
”So stay the night.” Brad doesn’t think before he speaks, and he can feel Nate’s breath hitch under him. He can feel Nate’s heartbeat against his own, their chests pressed together, but when Nate’s fingers tighten against Brad’s skin, it’s not to push him away. “Let me take care of you.”
Nate’s eyes open, barely a sliver. He tips his head to the side to look at Brad proper, and their lips are barely brushing. He’s quiet, for a moment, considering, before his eyes slip shut again and he sighs. “Okay.”
It takes more effort than it should for Brad to roll off of Nate’s body, every muscle in his body throbbing from the separation of contact. He bites his tongue to keep from making a sound and he has to force himself to his feet. One bout of frottage shouldn’t be making him this sore, and Brad blames the stress of work.
He takes less time than he should and is less than thorough when he wipes down his belly, but his skin itches with the desire to be pressed against Nate and he won’t deny himself that. He’s gentler when he wipes Nate down, sucking a kiss into his belly and licking their mess from Nate’s sticky fingers. It makes Nate squirm, ticklish, and Brad wipes Nate’s hand with the washcloth before dropping it on the bedside table.
Clean up can wait until the morning. Now, Brad wants nothing more than to roll Nate onto his side and curl up behind him and hold on tight, burying Nate in his wings and his warmth and keeping him safe until the morning comes. It might be the only chance Brad gets to do this and he has no intentions of wasting it.
← | Index | →
Author: sephirothflame
Fandom: Generation Kill
Rating: R
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Brad Colbert x Nate Fick, Walt Hasser, Ray Person (unrequited Walt/Ray)
Warning(s): AU - angels, adult language, adult situations, homophobic slurs, one night stands, unrequited love
Spoiler(s): N/A
Prompt(s): N/A
Word Count: 7,195
Master List: fic | verse
Notes: Part the first
Summary: No one has ever made Brad's Grace respond the way Nate 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 news of their upcoming deployment goes over about as well as could be expected. With no definite date on when they’re shipping out, besides a vague assurance it won’t be until the middle of January, it’s hard to process things. They’ve got a few weeks to work themselves up - or down, whatever the case may be - and that’s fine.
It could be worse.
Nate looks frustrated at the lack of information, and everyone seems to have noticed. “Rest assured, I’ll keep you all updated. In the meantime, Gunny’s got a copy of the pre-deployment checklist. You might want to get started, just in case.”
”This is bullshit,” Poke says after they’re dismissed. His annoyance isn’t directed at anyone in particular, but then again, Brad thinks Poke likes Nate. Most of them do and with good reason. “What the hell am I supposed to tell my wife?”
”That you’ll be home for Christmas,” Pappy says. He blinks slowly, but the corners of his lips are tipped down in a frown. “And after that, who knows?”
”Bullshit,” Poke reiterates. He thins his lips and makes an annoyed sound, before he sighs in frustration. “Guess I’m going to the PX after work.”
Brad knows that feeling. He wonders if he has enough green blouses left from his last deployment and the stockpile he manages to accumulate or if he needs to buy more as well. The list is basically the same, regardless of where they go. He should be fine.
”At least we’re finally deploying,” Lovell says. “Fucking finally.”
There’s a murmur of agreement, regardless of feelings on the deployment itself. This conclusion was inevitable. It’s nice to finally have a timeline for it, so they can prepare and get it over with.
* * *
The slip of paper with Nate’s number sits on Brad’s coffee table through the night. The paper is starting to wear away from Brad’s fingers rubbing it, memorizing the ten digits and trying to decide when he’s supposed to call. It’s only Thursday, and they have work tomorrow.
Despite the fact Brad is a fan of casual hookups and one night stands, he’s not exactly sure what the protocol is for friends with benefits. Because, that’s certainly what his relationship with Nate is boiling down to, though the term friends might be a little loose. Fuck buddies just sounds too crude.
Brad has never woken up in bed with someone besides his ex-fiancé, not when he was sober enough to tuck tail and run. Brad doesn’t want a relationship, he’s not good at them. He’s never had the practice and he’s not sure he’ll ever need it.
The thing with Nate, their mixed up, messed up relationship, it’s just messing with Brad’s head even more. It should be easy to just pick up his phone and dial Nate’s, asking how he feels about the Super 8 a few miles away or if he would rather just come back here. Nate has a roommate, probably a Marine, so his place is certainly off limits.
Nate is more complicated than he has any right to be, and he’s barely even done anything to make Brad this frustrated. Rudy would call out Brad’s karma, and at this point, Brad thinks he might be ready to start believing it.
Brad doesn’t call, though he wants to. It’s Thursday and it’s Nate, and Brad needs the time to wrap his head around the fact he’s really going to do this before he jumps headfirst into it. He doesn’t want to mess up this thing with Nate before it gets too far, doesn’t want to lose the opportunity to press against him and hold him tight.
It isn’t just about the sex, but if that’s all Nate’s willing to offer, Brad will take what he can get.
* * *
Friday starts with an invitation to a barbeque at Poke’s and Brad’s presence is mandatory and demanded by Gina. Poke holds his hands up in a placating gesture, though there’s a smirk crooking the corners of his lips up.
Brad objects, but it’s more out of habit than anything. He doesn’t mind spending time with Poke, as much as Poke’s friendship was forced upon Brad by the man himself, and Gina is nice. Even their daughters aren’t so horrible, though Brad has never been a fan of children.
Gunny accepts the invitation graciously, though he can’t promise Tara’s presence. He does promise homemade salsa and that seems to placate Poke in the time being.
”Gina says to invite the LT,” Poke says, though he seems unsure. “Fick’s a hell of a lot better than some of the officers we’ve had, but…” Nate is a stickler for the fraternization rule, or at least he tries to be.
Except when it comes to fucking one of the Sergeants he commands over, but Brad doesn’t bring that up.
”Ask him anyways,” Mike says. “Give him the choice. Ain’t nothing wrong with boosting morale by sharing a couple of burgers and beers.”
”I knew I liked you for a reason,” Poke says, and there’s an easy grin on his face. He claps Mike’s arm gently, before adding, “I gotta go double check Lilley labeled the field kits right before anyone else does.”
Mike and Brad both offer goodbyes, though neither of them moves. Brad doesn’t know what to do about it, because he’s done nothing wrong, but Mike is looking at him like maybe he knows something’s up. “You feeling alright, Colbert?”
Brad blinks slowly and feels his wings twitch. “Gunny?”
”Just noticed you’ve been distracted since the new LT showed up,” Mike says. There aren’t any accusations, but his tone is careful and he watches Brad’s face for any sign of a response. “Just making sure you’ve got your head on straight.”
”I’m fine,” Brad says, and it isn’t exactly a lie. He could tell Mike he has family issues, but it’s none of Mike’s damn business. He feels a little stupid, because of course someone was bound to notice the way Brad and Nate have been dancing around each other since Nate showed up. Brad works with Recon Marines. He’d be embarrassed on their behalf if no one ever figured it out.
”Good,” Mike says. He pats Brad’s bicep, and says, “Gotta make another coffee run before the day starts. Person spilled mine on his way in.”
”Go fucking figure,” Brad says, but it lacks heat. He twitches his lip up in a smile when Mike laughs, and Brad watches him go before he makes his way over to his own desk.
He has to be more careful, then. It was reckless to think he could stare at Nate and go unnoticed, but he doesn’t feel like he’s been acting any differently since Nate’s arrival. He still feels like himself. He’s still distant and quiet and sarcastic. The only one who should be able to feel a difference at all is Walt, and he’s too hung up over his school boy crush to delve into Brad’s personal life.
Still, Brad will take the quiet warning and keep it in mind. It doesn’t do any good for attention to be called on him, and the ramifications for Nate will only be worse.
* * *
Brad buys giant lollypops for Poke’s girls, and shoots Gina a death glare when she grins at him. He’s not as soft as she thinks he is, though he will occasionally admit to having a soft spot for these two in particular. They’re better mannered then Brad’s nieces, but they’re not as spoiled by their grandmother, either.
”Most people just bring potato salad,” Gina says, and she pinches Brad’s belly. “Thank god you didn’t.”
”I hate potato salad,” Brad replies. He doesn’t need Gina to lead him to the backyard, has been to the Espera household more than enough times to find the way on his own, but he follows her regardless. “You didn’t let the girls help you with the pie again, did you?”
Gina hums and shakes her head. “We made cake instead. Harder to mess up. I’d stay away from the lemonade though, it’s a little on the sweet side.”
”I appreciate the warning,” Brad says and Gina grins up at him. He doesn’t tell her he’s going to bother Poke, but Gina doesn’t object to Brad’s departure outside of a swat to his ass that has him glowering over his shoulder at her.
Most of the time, Gina is harmless. Brad is determined not to let his guard down around her, because she’s tricky when she wants to be. Swatting his ass playfully and smiling innocently when he glowers is just the tip of the iceberg.
”Gina picking on you?” Poke asks, when Brad reaches him. He’s struggling to hook a propane tank up to his grill and curses when it objects. “Tried to convince her to spend a couple of grand on one of those fancy outdoor kitchens but she said sending the girls to college was more important.”
”You want them to turn out better than you, don’t you?” Brad asks. He doesn’t offer to help, but Poke seems to figure the grill out on his own. “Besides, you’re a Marine. Who’s to say you’d even be around long enough to enjoy it.”
”That was also one of her arguments,” Poke confesses. He stands up and wipes his hands on his jeans. “Right. Gina’s had the girls setting up all morning, so there’s nothing for you to do besides fetch me a beer.”
Brad quirks an eyebrow. “You would send a guest after alcohol at your own home?”
”Maybe I just like seeing a white boy doing what I tell him,” Poke says, grinning. He pokes Brad’s chest with grill tongs. “Go, fetch.”
Brad flips Poke off, but it doesn’t stop him from going in search of the red cooler that always lurks around Poke's barbeques in order to pull out two drinks. There’s not enough to get everyone wasted, but there are a spattering of kids due to show up and it’s probably for the best.
* * *
Nate shows up after the first round of burgers have come off the grill and the backyard has slowly started to fill with Bravo 2 Marines and their significant others. He’s got Tara’s arm looped through his elbow, smiling awkwardly, and he passes off a box of store bought sugar cookies as soon as he’s close enough to Gina to do so.
He pointedly doesn’t look at Brad, but if Gina and Tara don’t notice, they don’t comment.
”I had no idea what to bring,” Nate says awkwardly. “I can’t actually stay, but since you were kind enough to invite me, I thought…” His words trail off, but he smiles and it seems to disarm Gina.
”You sure you don’t want a burger for the road, at least?” Tara asks. “I’m sure Tony can heat one up quick enough.” She has to stand on her tiptoes to be able to peer over Nate’s shoulder in the direction of the grill, though she doesn’t let go of Nate to give him the opportunity to flee.
”I’m sure, but thank you,” Nate says. He wets his lips and looks at Brad, the corner of his lip twitching in a secret smile and Brad can practically hear his silent laughter of Marine wives. “Brad.”
”Sir,” Brad replies. It’s nice to be acknowledged, if only for a moment. “Nate.”
”I really ought to be going,” Nate says apologetically. He covers Tara’s hand with his own, easing her fingers from around his elbow. His charming smile doesn’t fade and Tara relents. “It was nice to meet you, ma’am.”
”Gina is fine.” She smiles. “Thank you for the cookies. I’m sure the kids will have them devoured in no time.”
Nate sticks around long enough to say thank Poke for the invitation, trading hellos with Mike and anyone else he runs into. He makes his rounds quickly, and he doesn’t seem the least bit surprised that Brad choses the opportunity to lean against the doorjamb of the back door and blocks his access to the house.
“Brad,” Nate says again.
”Allow me to escort you out,” Brad says, and when Nate doesn’t object, he pushes off the door and lets Nate pass. There’s no one in the house to see them, not that Brad can tell, and he lets his fingers brush against Nate’s elbow as he guides him to the front door. “You have plans for this evening?”
Nate looks at Brad contemplatively for a moment, before shrugging a shoulder. He pushes open the front door and doesn’t seem surprised that Brad follows him to his shiny Volvo. “I’ve been waiting for a call. Figured I’d go to Border’s to take my mind off of it.”
The hint isn’t as subtle as it should be, but Brad doesn’t know what to expect. He puts his hand on Nate’s car door, stopping him from escaping. He lowers his voice. “I’m stuck here for a few hours. If you’ve got nothing to do after that, you know where I live.”
For a moment, Nate is quiet. He’s weighing his options or working up the courage, before he nods. “I’ll see you then.”
”Have fun at the bookstore,” Brad says, stepping away from Nate’s car. This time, he doesn’t wait for Nate to leave before he turns on his heels and heads back inside. It feels good to be the one walking away first. Brad doesn’t even understand why, just that it does.
He’s got a few hours to kill before he can make a break for it, and even then he’s likely to stay let to help Poke and Gina clean up. He doesn’t mind. They’re good people, and the girls are likely to have worn themselves out by then so they won’t be underfoot.
Until then, Brad gets to loiter at the fringes of Poke’s yard, drinking too sweet lemonade and ice cold beer, arguing about the worth of MMORPGs with Ray and Holsey until they’re finally kicked out. It’s not a bad way to spend a Saturday. Brad might even miss it when they deploy.
* * *
Brad is on the phone with his mother when there’s a knocking at the front door, but he doesn’t bother to attempt to hang up on her before he answers it. She’ll just call him back to keep talking, and keep him on the line even longer. She's spiteful when she wants to be.
Nate’s hands are shoved in his pockets and his shoulders are slumped, but he doesn’t hesitate in stepping into Brad’s house after the door opens for him.
”Mom, I have to go,” Brad says. He rolls his eyes at Nate’s questioning glance and sighs. “I promise I’ll be there on time to light the first candle next weekend. I can’t promise about any of the other days, but I’ll try.”
Hanukkah?, Nate mouths, and Brad nods his head.
It doesn’t take long for Brad’s mother to hang up, though he has to reassure her time and time again that he’ll be there. It’s not often he’s in town for it, and she won’t let him live down the time he outright forgot.
”Sorry,” Brad says.
”It’s fine.” Nate doesn’t move from the center of Brad’s living room, though he does take in the large TV and leather couch. He looks like he wants to ask something, but he bites his tongue. “I don’t know how to do this.”
Brad can only guess what this is, but he’s pretty sure he’s got a fair clue. Brad doesn’t either, if he’s honest, but he’s probably had more experience than Nate has. Usually he just needs to hand over a stack of bills and head into his bedroom. It’s straight forward. If he and Nate aren’t friends, but he isn’t paying for it, Brad’s not sure how much foreplay or seduction is required.
Foreplay and seduction have never been Brad’s strong points. It’s probably why his relationships have never lasted long in the past, but it doesn’t surprise him that it would bite him in the ass now.
”Do you want a drink?” Brad offers, because it seems as safe a bet as any.
”Please,” Nate says. His cautious look doesn’t fade, though he follows Brad into the kitchen and accepts the drink with a small smile. “Thank you.”
Brad twists the top off of his own beer and tips his head back to chug as much of it as he can. It does no good to be too drunk to enjoy this, but there’s no harm in drinking it now. He’s already got a light buzz and the alcohol won’t get in the way of the sex they’re not having.
Nate drinks his own beer, though slower, before he speaks again. “I think we need to establish rules.” His gaze is steady when he looks at Brad, and his voice doesn’t waver. “Boundaries.”
”Agreed,” Brad says. It’s not something he would have thought of on his own, maybe, but he could see how they might be important. He can definitely see why Nate would think of them and why they would even matter. Brad’s pretty sure Nate’s not the kind of guy to take unnecessary risks, outside of fucking Brad, in any case.
”Only during the weekends,” Nate starts. He waits for Brad to nod his agreement before continuing. “In the future, it would probably be better if we met at a neutral location. A motel.” Brad makes a sound in understanding, and Nate seems to gain confidence. “I think it’s safest that no one knows. We use condoms and lube and I would like it if you - we - could get tested.”
It shouldn’t surprise Brad that Nate makes the request, but it comes as a low blow. Brad is clean, because he’s careful, but the last time he fucked Nate was without a condom and he can understand why Nate was worried. It’s not hard to catch The Pox and there would be no easy way to explain how they both got the same strain to the Corps.
Nate takes another sip of his beer and stares at Brad expectantly. “If you have anything to add?”
Brad has to think about it, but nothing comes to mind. If this isn’t going to be much different than sleeping with a prostitute, then Nate has already covered the basics. “No kissing,” Brad adds, and he’s surprised that Nate looks slightly taken aback. The expression is gone in a second though, and Nate schools his features. “Too personal. Wouldn’t want you to get too attached.”
”Agreed,” Nate says. He puts his bottle on the counter gently before moving into Brad’s space, pushing him back against the counter and pinning him in. He rests his hands on either side of Brad’s hips and his expression is quiet and determined when he meets Brad’s gaze. “Think you can handle this, Brad?”
Even if he can’t, Brad certainly knows he wants to try. The way his Grace is warming up just from having Nate near him is more than enough reason to consent. “I do.”
”Then I just have one last request,” Nate says. His gaze doesn’t falter, though he wets his lips slowly and Brad can’t help but stare. “I would like a fluidity in who gets to top. Not necessarily alternating nights, but on occasion, I reserve the right to fuck you as much as you do to me.”
Brad sucks in a breath without thinking about it and nods. He doesn’t bottom, not often, but he doesn’t think he’d mind it much if Nate was the one inside of him. “These terms are perfectly acceptable.”
”Good,” Nate says. He leans forward, but seems to catch himself. He presses his lips against Brad’s jaw, his breath soft against Brad’s skin and it makes his hair stand up and his feathers prickle. “Then I would like to fuck you, now.”
Brad has absolutely no desire to object.
* * *
Nate is gentle when he pushes Brad’s shoulders against the mattress, and he takes his time slicking his fingers up and pushing them inside of Brad. His lips trail soft kisses down Brad’s spine, soothing him even as he urges Brad to take more, stretching inside of him, and he nips gently every now and then to distract Brad from the burn.
When Nate pulls his fingers out, Brad suddenly feels empty, but it isn’t long before Nate is rolling on a condom and rubbing the slick head of his cock against Brad’s hole. It feels to big, too blunt, but it makes it past the ring of muscles and Brad bites his tongue and fists the covers to keep from making too much noise.
It’s a slow process, Nate pushing inside of Brad, holding himself back to avoid pain and draw this out even longer. It has Brad’s thighs trembling in exertion from holding still to take it, to let Nate set the pace. The moment Nate bottoms out, his hips flush against Brad’s ass and his lips on the nape of Brad’s neck, Brad can feel the snap in his wings as he tries to stretch them as far as he can, the muscles as tight as his thighs and arms.
The splay of his feathers aches, but it’s better than the feeling of Nate moving through them, his fingers dragging down Brad’s stomach to his cock, stroking slowly as he starts to move. Brad has no idea how he’s supposed to breathe through this, when Nate is being so slow and gentle, but there’s a pleasure burning down his spine and settling in his gut, and Brad never wants it to end.
* * *
They lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, but there is no point of contact between them and that aches almost as much as being fucked does. Nate is quiet as he tries to regulate his breathing, huffing every now and then to help catch his breath, and Brad has never wanted to touch him as much as he does now.
The silences stretches on and Brad offers a quiet, “that wasn’t horrible.”
Nate makes a sound, a snorting laugh, and he tips his head to the side to look at Brad. “It’s nice to know I haven’t completely disappointed you in bed,” he says wryly, the corner of his lip twitching up into a grin.
Brad wants to kiss him, but knows better than to try. He doesn’t say he likes it better when he’s the one pounding into Nate, because it’s not necessarily true, though he certainly wouldn’t object if he was the one topping more often than not. This certainly wasn’t bad. Brad enjoyed it. He’s just not sure how to deal with the ache in his spine and ass and thighs. “Was this a successful trial run for you, Sir?”
”Nate.” A quiet correction, though his smile fades and he looks at Brad through tired, half-lidded eyes. “Please don’t call me Sir when we’re - like this.” Nate frowns at his own pause, before staring back up at the ceiling and sighing heavily. “I think it was good.”
”Good,” Brad echoes. Their sex was good. It should be enough for Brad, but it isn’t. It annoys him that Nate thinks it was less than perfect, because Brad has never been a bad lay and because he wants to give Nate everything. He can damn well do better than good in bed. “Next week is Hanukkah, but after that…”
”We’ll see,” Nate says. He doesn’t look at Brad again, and after a moment he pushes himself up onto his elbows and sits up. “Thank you.”
”Don’t,” Brad says quietly. He doesn’t move from his spot on the bed, though he spreads his wings out to capture the warmth from the spot Nate has left behind. “Don’t thank me.”
Nate smiles, soft and small. “My apologies.” He gets dressed slowly, and Brad has to force his eyes to stay on the ceiling to keep from staring. “I’ll see you on Monday,” Nate says quietly. He stands by the foot of the bed, waiting for something, before he sighs and turns on his heels.
Brad doesn’t roll over until he hears the front door click shut behind Nate, and even then he only moves far enough to press his face into the bedspread and stretch out on his belly. It reeks of sex and Nate, but it’s cool against his skin and Brad lets himself drown in the feeling. It’s the closest he’s going to get to Nate himself, and Brad doesn’t want to let him go.
* * *
Brad’s life doesn’t change much, despite everything that’s going on around him. He deals with it as he always has, with as little emotion as he can and as efficiently as possible. Hanukkah comes and goes and their deployment gets closer, drowning the base in a fervor that only comes around when people are getting ready to ship out.
There are lectures at work, followed by drills and every day starts with an early morning PT session. Gunny is drilling them to the bone, because he knows they can take it and he knows that they’ll be better for it. Mike and Nate are determined to make sure all of them are fit for deployment and no one can fault them for that.
Nate is an enigma on the best of the days, and the holidays and the looming promise of Afghanistan only complicate matters. The only time Brad’s ever sure of what Nate’s thinking is when they’re pressed together between motel room sheets, rocking against each other and helping each other to completion. Even then, Nate’s mind doesn’t seem to be completely on his impending orgasm.
Brad’s tests come back clean, but he was expecting that they would. He keeps the results in the glove compartment of his Jeep, waiting until he can give them to Nate. It doesn’t mean they get to fuck without condoms, but it puts Nate more at ease, and that alone is worth it. Nate’s results are clean too, but that doesn’t surprise Brad in the least.
Life moves on. Brad does his best to keep up with it.
* * *
”I’m done being in love,” Walt declares over pizza and beer. There’s a drunken certainty to his words, and Brad almost admires him for it. “Love is horrible and only complicates things.”
”You have reached your limit,” Eric says with a tired fondness. He steals another piece of pizza from the box and doesn’t react to Walt’s sullen glare. “Shut up and pass me the ranch.”
Brad thinks this might be the last time he gets a chance to spend a night with his friends in the comfort of his own home. They don’t have an official date for when they’re leaving, but December flies by and Christmas is only a few days away. There isn’t much time for them left.
”Brad, tell Kocher he’s a dick,” Walt huffs. He points the bottle of ranch at Eric, though he doesn’t hand it over. The flush on his cheeks almost matches the sauce on his pizza, and Brad thinks Eric was probably right about Walt reaching his limit.
”Walt, stop being a pain in the ass,” Brad says. He snags the ranch out of Walt’s hands and hands it to Eric, before taking a slow drag of his own beer. He’s not entirely sure how he ended up here, with another angel and an old friend at his dinner table, but he doesn’t mind.
The only thing Brad minds these days, really, is something he has no control about. He’s moving on though, maybe, or at least he’s trying. It’s hard to move on when he falls into bed with the main object of his frustrations for a few minutes every weekend, but it’s still better than pining endlessly.
”I hate being in love,” Walt reiterates, and Brad raises his glass in a quiet toast. Walt blinks at him in surprise, before clinking his drink to Brad’s, and it’s only a moment before Eric lifts his and clinks in as well.
Things are changing, Brad thinks. He just wishes he knew if it was for better or worse.
* * *
The base is quiet on Christmas Eve. Anyone who could make it home for the week has already fled. One last holiday before they’re gone, shipped off to the desert for who knows how long. Brad actually kind of likes it this way. It makes it easy to get into the warehouse when he has to root around for his flash drive, and he isn’t the least bit surprised to see Nate sitting at his desk and rubbing his temples.
Brad knocks on the window to Nate’s office, and Nate looks too tired to be startled when he looks up. He frowns, but waves Brad in, and Brad offers him a quiet, “hey.”
Nate holds up a finger to silence Brad as he finishes the e-mail he was reading, before he twists his swivel chair to face Brad proper. “Shouldn’t you be with your family?”
”My family is Jewish,” Brad says slowly. “They wouldn’t care less if I was able to visit them or not today.”
”That’s not - “ Nate starts, but he princes the bridge of his nose and sighs. “I’m sorry, I know. I just meant with everything that’s happening…” Nate’s voice trails off and he makes no attempt to finish his sentence.
”Unless you know something I don’t about the deployment, then no, I don’t,” Brad says. He holds up a flash drive and says, “forgot this here yesterday.” He could have lived without it for the weekend, sure, but Brad has nothing better to do than plug away at spreadsheets. This isn’t a holiday he has ever cared about.
Nate’s lips thin, and he looks exhausted when he meets Brad’s eyes.
”Fuck,” Brad says. He sits down in the seat opposite of Nate’s desk and tries not to feel anything. He’s been comfortably numb about the upcoming deployment, there’s no reason that should change now. “When?”
”The eighteenth,” Nate says. He rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes and sighs heavily, frustrated. “I got the news this morning. I need to start making phone calls, but I thought I’d wait until the day after tomorrow.”
Nate wants to give the men a mostly happy Christmas with their families. Having a date, that makes it official in a way a vague confirmation hasn’t. A date gives them a proper timeline and means they really do need to start preparing and panicking. Nate is trying to soften the blow, and Brad doesn’t know if that’s endearing or frustrating that he’s holding out.
”Sir,” Brad says quietly. It’s the only thing he can think to say to break the silence.
”I don’t want to be alone tonight,” Nate says. The confession is quiet, barely audible, and Nate is too tired to be annoyed at himself. He looks at Brad, not quite pleading, but it’s enough for Brad to understand.
”Hotel?” Brad asks. His skin is crawling, because they shouldn’t be talking about this here. They shouldn’t be having this conversation at all, not when Nate just told Brad they’re leaving in a few weeks. They should be with their families, their friends, not with each other. Brad’s sure that’s how these things are supposed to go.
”I don’t care,” Nate says. He rubs at his face tiredly and looks at his computer. “I need to get back to Patterson about something.”
”Come by my place when you’re done,” Brad offers. “I’ll make you something to eat and help you take your mind off of it.”
Nate doesn’t seem thrilled by the prospects, but he doesn’t object, either. He nods his head weakly before forcing himself to sit up in his chair. He stretches, groaning, and Brad wants nothing more than to drag him in bed and tuck him in. Nate doesn’t say anything when Brad stands up and leaves, but Brad wasn’t expecting him to.
* * *
It’s starting to get dark by the time Nate shows up, and he looks dead on his feet. He objects when Brad tries to guide him to the couch and insists on joining him at the kitchen table for dinner. “I don’t care if it’s fucking top ramen, you made it for me, I’m going to eat it.”
This is a side of Brad’s not sure how to deal with, but the doesn’t think he objects. He likes watching Nate eat, even if he does pick at his chicken and pasta, because it means at least he’s taking in some nutrients. He’s hardly thin, but he could stand to gain a few pounds.
Brad might be more like his mother than he cares to admit, and he blames his fretting entirely on her and not the way his Grace aches when Nate is near. He just wants to make sure Nate takes care of himself; it has nothing to do with any lingering affections and everything to do with the fact that he’ll soon be leading them into war.
It takes a while, but Nate manages to eat almost everything on his plate and he wipes his face with a napkin when he’s done. It’s stilted and quiet, but Nate doesn’t attempt to fill the silence with polite chatter and Brad doesn’t blame him.
It’s not until Brad puts the dishes in the sink to wash later that Nate sidles up behind him, his hands on Brad’s hips and his forehead resting at the top of Brad’s spine. “Do you want to get some sleep?”
”No,” Nate says quietly. He lets his hands wander, sliding up under Brad’s shirt and simply resting over his chest. “I just.” Nate sighs and drops his hands. “I need you.”
There’s emotion there that Brad won’t pretend to understand, but it doesn’t stop him from turning around and drawing Nate in close. He brushes his fingers along Nate’s jaw, pressing his thumb against the seam of Nate’s lips until Nate’s tongue peaks and wets the tip of it. “You sure you’re up for this?”
”I’m a Marine,” Nate says with tired indignation. “I am always up for sex.”
”I’ll be sure to hold you to that,” Brad says. He grins, and Nate smiles weakly at him in response. He leans in slowly, giving Nate a chance to back away, but Nate doesn’t and Brad brushes their lips together in a soft kiss.
It was one of their rules. One of the rules that Brad made, even, but Nate doesn’t call him out on breaking it. Their lips move slowly together, gentle presses, and warm sighs. When Brad’s tongue touches Nate’s lower lip, Nate’s lips part, and Brad can taste the carbonara on Nate’s tongue.
They take their time, barely touching except for Nate’s hands on Brad’s chest and Brad’s on Nate’s hips. Nate moans softly into Brad’s mouth when Brad sucks his tongue and he lets Brad drag him in close. There’s a warmth spreading through Brad’s veins, through his Grace, something soft and slow, and Brad lets it guide him in the gentle kiss until they have to part for air.
”Bed?” Nate asks.
”Bed,” Brad agrees.
They move slowly, despite the fact Nate has been here before and he’s bound to remember where Brad’s room is. They don’t touch at all on the way, but Nate stands in the middle of Brad’s room and lets Brad’s fingers skim down his side and tug his shirt out of his cammies and over his head. Nate’s back is naked except for a spattering of freckles on his shoulder blades, and Brad presses his mouth to the top of his spine.
Brad thinks, you’re beautiful and I love you but he doesn’t voice them. He doesn’t want to leave, not now, not tonight. In a few weeks, he’s going to have to give Nate up for good in the desert and Brad wants to treasure the sight and feel of him for as long as he can.
Nate undoes his own belt, his zipper, but he doesn’t object when Brad guides him to the bed and crouches down to undo his boots. Nate’s uniform is strewn across Brad’s bedroom but Brad can’t help but think it belongs there. Nate’s hands cup Brad’s jaw, his thighs spreading wide as Brad kneels between them, and Nate exhales softly. “Don’t.”
Brad has no idea what Nate is telling him no to. He eases Nate’s hands down with his own, squeezing Nate’s fingers between his own. He kisses Nate’s knee softly, nuzzling his cheek against it, before kissing up his thigh. Before Brad even makes it to Nate’s cock, it’s already starting to swell, but Nate shies away from further contact. “Nate?”
Shaking his head, Nate pulls his fingers away from Brad’s and scoots back the bed. His knees tuck under his chin and he’s looking at Brad like he’s something foreign. “Get naked,” Nate tells him, and, “come here.”
He might not understand what Nate wants, but it doesn’t stop Brad from obeying him. He undoes the buttons on his shirt slowly, letting it slip over his shoulders and down the floor. His undershirt comes up just as slowly, and Brad takes his time in undoing the button on his khakis and pushing them down his thighs.
By the time Brad is naked and gets a knee up on the mattress, Nate’s cheeks have started to flush and one of his hands has disappeared between his thighs and his belly to stroke himself slowly. Brad would be content to watch Nate get himself off, but he wants and aches for Nate from the core of his being, and he isn’t going to pass the chance up.
Nate’s thighs fall apart as Brad inches towards him, and he lies back on the mattress with the slightest pressure against his shoulders. Licking his lips, Nate looks up at Brad through half lidded eyes and asks, “how do you want to do this?”
”I don’t care,” Brad says, and it’s the truth. He’s content to just catch his weight on his elbows on either side of Nate’s head, drawing him in for another slow kiss while their hips line up between them and they start to grind. It’s slow and sweet, everything sex between them isn’t supposed to be, and Brad can feel his heart pounding in his chest the longer it drags on.
They ease apart long enough for Brad to get one of Nate’s thighs between his own, and when he arches his hips forward again, his cock rubs against the curve of Nate’s hip bone. His skin is soft and dry except for where Brad is leaking precum onto his skin, but it’s perfect. He can feel the pressure of Nate’s cock on his skin, the same wetness slicking him up, and Nate’s hips press up to rock against Brad in turn.
Nate’s fingers trace Brad’s shoulder blades, his nails scraping gently, a soft moan escaping him when Brad sucks a kiss against the corner of his jaw. His fingers press in and his hips arch up, but he doesn’t demand more and Brad is glad.
The slow way they grind together has Brad’s breath catching with every spike of pleasure. His wings stretch and curl, almost outside of his control as he tries to find some way to press closer to Nate, to cover him completely and keep them locked in this moment forever. His heart stutters in his chest and Nate works his hand between their bellies to capture both their cocks in his long fingers.
He doesn’t jack them off, not exactly, but the pressure of his grip and the heat of Nate’s cock against Brad’s is amazing. Brad digs his knees into the mattress and pushes his cock into Nate’s hand for more, moaning as he nips at Nate’s jaw. Their precum slicks together, easing the dry friction, and Brad’s entire body and Grace throbs when the head of Nate’s cock catches against the crown of Brad’s and he comes with a muffled groan.
Nate doesn’t let go of Brad as his cock pulses, working him through it. When Nate comes hot and messy against the underside of Brad’s cock, Brad nearly keens. They stay pressed together long after they’re done coming, and Brad presses soft kisses to the curve of Nate’s jaw. He doesn’t want to get out of this bed, out of Nate’s arms, and Nate doesn’t ask him to.
They’re going to have to talk about this, later. About how they both completely disregarded the rules they’d set for themselves to keep from getting too close. The boundaries were designed to keep their careers safe, to keep things from getting too personal and for them to develop feelings that have no right being there. Feelings Brad has had since he saw Nate the first time, if his Grace is anything to go by.
But Nate doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even open his eyes. His breathing is ragged, the only sign he’s still alive, but his lip twitches up into a smile when Brad nips at his chin. “I’m too tired to move,” Nate murmurs.
”So stay the night.” Brad doesn’t think before he speaks, and he can feel Nate’s breath hitch under him. He can feel Nate’s heartbeat against his own, their chests pressed together, but when Nate’s fingers tighten against Brad’s skin, it’s not to push him away. “Let me take care of you.”
Nate’s eyes open, barely a sliver. He tips his head to the side to look at Brad proper, and their lips are barely brushing. He’s quiet, for a moment, considering, before his eyes slip shut again and he sighs. “Okay.”
It takes more effort than it should for Brad to roll off of Nate’s body, every muscle in his body throbbing from the separation of contact. He bites his tongue to keep from making a sound and he has to force himself to his feet. One bout of frottage shouldn’t be making him this sore, and Brad blames the stress of work.
He takes less time than he should and is less than thorough when he wipes down his belly, but his skin itches with the desire to be pressed against Nate and he won’t deny himself that. He’s gentler when he wipes Nate down, sucking a kiss into his belly and licking their mess from Nate’s sticky fingers. It makes Nate squirm, ticklish, and Brad wipes Nate’s hand with the washcloth before dropping it on the bedside table.
Clean up can wait until the morning. Now, Brad wants nothing more than to roll Nate onto his side and curl up behind him and hold on tight, burying Nate in his wings and his warmth and keeping him safe until the morning comes. It might be the only chance Brad gets to do this and he has no intentions of wasting it.
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