SPN, Sunday Morning, 1/1, R, Brad/Nate, 365
Title: Sunday Morning
Author: sephirothflame
Fandom: Generation Kill
Rating: R
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Brad Colbert x Nate Fick
Warning(s): PWP, lazy handjobs
Prompt(s): For ember_firedrake
Word Count: 365
Notes: I love lazy porn...
Summary: It's Sunday morning and they should be sleeping in.
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 sun is barely up when Nate wakes up, and he can feel the early Sunday morning light on his back through the crack in the curtains. It’s not the only thing he can feel, by far. Brad’s hands are on Nate’s thighs, on his hips, his back, his shoulders, roaming and touching every inch of skin even as Brad ducks forward to kiss Nate’s shoulder.
And Nate would complain, because it’s barely after six on a Sunday and he could be sleeping, but Brad is warm and heavy and slow, his fingers skimming along Nate’s thighs and up his sides, the touch light and soothing. Brad urges Nate over onto his back easily, dropping to press kisses across Nate’s shoulders and up his neck and along his jaw.
It’s slow and lazy, and Nate drifts in and out between one soft touch and another, his eyes half lidded and low sounds escaping him every time Brad’s knuckles drag teasingly along his cock. It’s weird, because Nate knows if he was more awake Brad wouldn’t be taking the time to lick along his pulse point, trail his tongue between Nate’s ribs and dip it into his belly button. Brad wouldn’t be content just dragging his cock along Nate’s thigh, smearing precum along Nate’s skin, when they could be rutting together more frantically, desperately.
Nate doesn’t complain, because this is almost better. He fumbles to curl his fingers around Brad’s wrist, tugging tiredly until he can tangle their fingers together and smiles tiredly. He manages to catch an almost shy smile on Brad’s face before his eyes drift shut again, and Brad stops teasing and takes Nate in his other hand, squeezing once, tightly, before stroking in earnest.
Nate has to force himself to stay awake and coherent long enough to return the favor, fumbling half-heartedly for Brad until Brad takes pity on him and scoots up the bed, pressing himself against Nate at the same time he starts nibbling along Nate’s jaw. As soon as they’re sticky and sweaty and sated, Nate has every intention of dragging Brad back into the sheets and curling around him for more sleep, but for now, it can wait.
Author: sephirothflame
Fandom: Generation Kill
Rating: R
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Brad Colbert x Nate Fick
Warning(s): PWP, lazy handjobs
Prompt(s): For ember_firedrake
Word Count: 365
Notes: I love lazy porn...
Summary: It's Sunday morning and they should be sleeping in.
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 sun is barely up when Nate wakes up, and he can feel the early Sunday morning light on his back through the crack in the curtains. It’s not the only thing he can feel, by far. Brad’s hands are on Nate’s thighs, on his hips, his back, his shoulders, roaming and touching every inch of skin even as Brad ducks forward to kiss Nate’s shoulder.
And Nate would complain, because it’s barely after six on a Sunday and he could be sleeping, but Brad is warm and heavy and slow, his fingers skimming along Nate’s thighs and up his sides, the touch light and soothing. Brad urges Nate over onto his back easily, dropping to press kisses across Nate’s shoulders and up his neck and along his jaw.
It’s slow and lazy, and Nate drifts in and out between one soft touch and another, his eyes half lidded and low sounds escaping him every time Brad’s knuckles drag teasingly along his cock. It’s weird, because Nate knows if he was more awake Brad wouldn’t be taking the time to lick along his pulse point, trail his tongue between Nate’s ribs and dip it into his belly button. Brad wouldn’t be content just dragging his cock along Nate’s thigh, smearing precum along Nate’s skin, when they could be rutting together more frantically, desperately.
Nate doesn’t complain, because this is almost better. He fumbles to curl his fingers around Brad’s wrist, tugging tiredly until he can tangle their fingers together and smiles tiredly. He manages to catch an almost shy smile on Brad’s face before his eyes drift shut again, and Brad stops teasing and takes Nate in his other hand, squeezing once, tightly, before stroking in earnest.
Nate has to force himself to stay awake and coherent long enough to return the favor, fumbling half-heartedly for Brad until Brad takes pity on him and scoots up the bed, pressing himself against Nate at the same time he starts nibbling along Nate’s jaw. As soon as they’re sticky and sweaty and sated, Nate has every intention of dragging Brad back into the sheets and curling around him for more sleep, but for now, it can wait.