FIC: Sugar, Sugar (Ray Levoi/Walter Crow Horse, PG-13)
TITLE: Sugar, Sugar
RATING: PG-13
FANDOM: Thunderheart
PAIRING: Ray Levoi/Walter Crow Horse
SUMMARY: The boys visit the flea market.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Written for slashthedrabble prompt #132: chocolate via Round 303: Past Prompts Revisited, and Mundane Bingo prompt searching for enough loose change to buy a soda/latte/etc.
I’m gonna make your life so sweet.
-The Archies, “Sugar, Sugar”
There were few reasons Crow Horse was happy to leave the rez, but the Pennington County flea market was near the top of that list. Ray never minded the trip, and usually afterwards they would drive into the city and have lunch, which was enough to get Ray to go most anywhere.
Crow Horse was looking over some hardware-the lawnmower had found a spearhead in the earth and bucked a blade-but Ray’s attention kept floating to the nearby vending machine. Mike and Ike, Sugar Daddy, Now and Later . . . Hershey’s. His mouth watered, and he pawed through his pockets for change. Why did he only have nickels? Five, ten, fifteen . . . not enough. He tugged at Crow Horse’s sleeve; Crow Horse ignored him, engrossed in the selection of mower blades, so Ray slipped his hand into Crow Horse’s pocket in search of the other ten cents. Crow Horse jumped.
“Geez, Ray, gettin’ kinda fresh there, ain’t’cha?”
Ray sorted through Crow Horse’s change until he found a dime. He slapped the rest of the coins into Crow Horse’s palm, and went to buy his candy bar.
“Happy now?” Crow Horse asked.
Ray smiled, munching happily. “Very.”
Crow Horse found himself a mower blade, and paid for it. They wandered the aisles for a while yet, looking through old record albums and faded issues of dirty magazines. Ray stopped to play with a box of puppies until Crow Horse caught wise and dragged him away, muttering about that damned, defective, three-legged mutt.
Crow Horse got settled behind the wheel of the truck, then went through with nestling his mower blade somewhere he thought it would be safe for the ride back. Ray stood in the doorway, watching and smiling.
“You sweetheart,” he said once Crow Horse had gotten the blade settled. “I’m feeling kind of jealous, Crow Horse.”
Crow Horse rolled his eyes, and patted the passenger’s seat. Ray slid in, still grinning.
“You’re never that sweet to me,” Ray continued, enjoying the blush rising on Crow Horse’s cheeks.
“You want me to buckle you in? Maybe tuck you in at night?”
“Nah. I just want a fraction of the love and tenderness you’re showing that mower blade.”
“You’re a right asshole sometimes, you know that, Ray? What’re you riled about? Is this ’cuz I wouldn’t buy you a puppy?”
Ray laughed. “I don’t want a puppy.”
“What do you want, then?”
Ray gave Crow Horse’s hair a gentle tug. “Just you.”
Crow Horse looked at him a long moment, stonily, trying to assess whether Ray was messing with him or not. Finally, he cracked the smallest of smiles. “Well, you got me. Now quit your whining.”
Ray looked like he was going to start up again, so Crow Horse reverted to his go-to method of keeping him quiet; he leaned in, and kissed him. The sweet taste of the chocolate still coated his mouth.