GK, Our Place In Time, 3/3, R, Ray/Brad, Walt, 8,715
The quiet ache Walt’s radiating doesn’t fade, but his breathing evens out slowly and he relaxes back into his seat. His eyes are red rimmed, his cheeks as well, but there’s no sign of wetness and for this Ray is painfully relieved. He doesn’t say a word as they drive through Virginia, his fingers curled tight around the seatbelt strap across his chest.
Ray wants to say something, anything, but Brad catches his gaze in the rearview mirror and shakes his head slowly. Instead, Ray leans forward to turn the radio on to the first country music station he can find, and beyond a wrinkle of his nose and his fingers clenching on the steering wheel, Brad doesn’t object.
- - -
It only takes a little over an hour to get from Taylorstown to DC, but it feels like it takes another three for Brad to navigate his Jeep through traffic and to pull up outside Nate’s townhome. It’s a nice looking building, well cared for, and Ray is quietly impressed.
Walt doesn’t move to undo his seatbelt and Ray gestures for Brad to go on ahead without him. He doesn’t say anything, just unbuckles his seatbelt and relaxes back into his seat.
Ray isn’t entirely sure, but he thinks Walt appreciates the company, as quiet as he is. Ray watches Brad go, greeted at the door by a familiar LT in jeans and a flannel shirt. It feels like they’re in some sort of messed up universe where Fick is just some civilian, but he embraces Brad easily and doesn’t seem the least bit perturbed that Ray and Walt are still sitting quietly in the Jeep.
They stay there quietly until the sun starts to set and the silence is interrupted by a loud growl of Walt’s stomach. Ray’s own pangs in sympathy, and he’s quietly relived that Walt hesitantly undoes his belt buckled. “Do you think - ?”
”I’m pretty sure LT won’t mind if we just walk in,” Ray replies. “He’ll probably even feed us.” The corners of his lips quirk up into a smile when Walt meets his gaze in the rearview mirror, and Walt smiles sadly at him as well.
”I was going to ask if we were going to stay here tonight,” Walt says quietly. “It’s nice here.”
Walt’s probably the only person in the universe to think a townhouse in the outskirts of DC and the neighborhood is nice, but Ray won’t hold it against him. If he’s honest, he almost kind of agrees.
Ray just grins wider. “Come on,” he says, instead of answer properly. “Let’s see about getting you some food. Then you can make that sad face until Brad and LT have no choice but to agree that we’re staying here tonight.”
Walt’s smile is small, shy, but it’s more honest and open that it has been in a while. “Okay,” he says, and he doesn’t hesitate before sliding out of the Jeep and following Ray into the descending dark.
- - -
When it turns out Fick doesn’t have anything more than boxed macaroni and Top Ramen in his cupboards, he consents to allowing Brad to order Chinese food over the phone. He insists on paying for it though, despite the fact Brad orders enough food for a platoon, but after all the money Brad’s spent on this trip already, he doesn’t protest very hard.
More than that, the good LT takes in their tired expressions and bodies and waves off any promises about getting out of his hair soon enough. “The guy who usually stays here with me has been out of town for a few weeks and the last time someone visited was that time with Christeson.” He gives Brad a pointed look at that and Brad makes a pained expression. “It’s nice to have company,” he finishes simply, and, “It’s no bother.”
”Thank you, Lieutenant - Sir?” Walt says, hesitant and unsure of how he’s supposed to address Fick. It’s a feeling Ray understands perfectly.
”I got out as a Captain,” Nate corrects quietly, with a soft smile. “And you can call me Nate.” As simply as that, Nate settles it, Walt nodding his head in understand and digging into his orange chicken and Ray sees no reason not to copy him.
- - -
Nate doesn’t so much as blink when Ray says he’s going to crash with Walt, and that he doesn’t need to worry about making up another bed. He just puts the linens he was pulling from the closet back in their proper spot and nods his head.
”The bathroom is the door just to your right,” Nate says, gesturing widely. “Sometimes it takes a while for the light to get bright. There’s extra blankets in this closet if you get cold.”
”Gotcha,” Ray says, nodding his head in understanding. He pauses, and rubs the back of his neck idly. “And thanks, LT.”
There’s a wry smile on Nate’s face, but he doesn’t correct Ray. “Don’t mention it. My room is just down the hall but I’m pretty sure Brad expects me to be downstairs getting drunk with him for a few hours, so.”
Ray nods his head again. “I’m going to go to Walt now,” he says, smiling again and stepping around Nate. He says thanks again, grateful that Nate accepts it with a soft smile, and he slips past Nate and into the room Walt had gone to sleep in hours ago.
The room is dark when Ray opens the door, and he’s careful to stay quiet when he closes it behind him and strips out of his clothes. His bag is in the Jeep, along with the sweats he’s been sleeping in, but Ray is too tired to go after them now. All he wants to do is crawl in bed and sleep for a few hours. He’s careful not to roll onto Walt in the process and settles into the bed easily.
It’s quiet and dark, the bed soft beneath him, and it’s easy for Ray to roll onto his side and stretch into a comfortable position. He can feel sleep weighing him down and he’s more than willing to embrace it and drift off when he hears Walt’s quiet voice asking his name.
Sighing tiredly, Ray cracks open one eye even though he can only make out the slope of Walt’s shoulder in the dark. “What’s up?”
”I’m sorry about earlier,” Walt whispers into the dark. He doesn’t sound anything other than tiredly apologetic and Ray finds himself shhing Walt before he thinks about it.
”You didn’t do anything wrong,” Ray replies. He stretches his hand out, and Walt is close enough that Ray finds him quickly. He searches for Walt’s arm and squeezes lightly. “Don’t worry about it, puppy.”
”I’m not a puppy,” Walt huffs out, but his objection falls flat.
”Mmhmm,” Ray hums. “Stop fretting and go to sleep."
Walt whispers okay quietly, and his voice fades into the darkness. It’s a long while yet before his breathing evens out and he drifts off, but that he manages to sleep at all is surely a good sign.
At least, Ray thinks as he starts to drift off as well, he really hopes so.
- - -
Brad is making pancakes when Ray wanders downstairs in the morning, which would be surreal enough without Nate sitting at the bar with glasses on and reading the morning paper. It feels like he’s walked into some messed up sitcom. He wonders, if Brad’s the mother and Ray wants to bone him, does that make him the live in nanny or foreign exchange student or something.
Then Ray realizes it’s too early in the morning to deal with that messed up analogy and decides it’s better to just slide onto a bar stool and Nate’s side and steal his cup of coffee when he isn’t looking. Which doesn’t go quite as according to plan, but Nate just narrows his eyes at Ray in annoyance before getting up to pour himself another cup.
”So what do you guys plan to do now that you’ve made it from one coast to another?” Nate asks, leaning his hip against the counter near Brad and peering over into the frying pan. “Do I get a Mickey pancake?”
”No,” Brad says. He rubs at the back of his neck and flips the pancakes from the pan to a plate easily and holds it out for Nate to take. “And fuck if I know. I’ve got to get back to base at some point, but…”
”You’re welcome to stay here for as long as you want,” Nate replies easily. “Which is to say, if you’re here longer than a week, I’ll probably shoot you. But until then the company is nice.”
Ray snorts into his coffee and Nate grins cheekily at him. He wouldn’t have really pegged the LT as anything other than determined and a little naive, but there’s something refreshing about seeing him like this. It’s a nice distraction from the fact in a few days, all of this is going to be over and Ray has no fucking clue what he’s going to do with his life.
”Hey, Walt,” Brad says, snapping Ray out of his reverie. His expression is fond as he eyes Walt’s messy hair and his wrinkled, too big Mariners tee shirt. “How many pancakes do you want?”
It’s like a sudden trip back into the Twilight Zone. Ray can’t help but wonder if Brad’s always been like this when he’s at ease, or if it’s just when Nate’s around. The thought instantly makes Ray’s mood sour, something tight clenching in his stomach. He tries to tell himself that that can’t be the reason, because he knows how Brad looks at him and the way they touch -
Ray wonders if he should be embarrassed that his justifications make him feel like a teenage girl, but he doesn’t let himself dwell on it. Nate can be gay for Brad all he wants, but Ray’s positive Brad doesn’t return his affections. Mostly. Like ninety eight percent or something.
”Are you okay, Ray?” Walt asks when he sits at Ray’s side, setting a cup of coffee on the bar in front of him carefully. He cocks his head to the side, his expression confused, and he looks every bit the puppy he swears he isn’t.
The thought makes Ray smile and he lifts his shoulder up in a vague shrug. “It’s nothing,” he says, and he means I’ll be fine, and judging by the way Walt squeezes his elbow gently, he knows what Ray means anyways.
It’s strange to be comforted by Walt instead of the other way around, but somehow, Ray can’t bring himself to mind.
- - -
Nate leaves a little before lunch when he gets a call from his office, lips pinched thin in annoyance but dutifully getting ready despite it. “I should be back in a few hours,” he says apologetically. “Eat whatever you want. Watch whatever you want. Just - make yourselves at home.”
”We promise not to burn your house down when you’re gone,” Ray chimes in, and he grins when Nate laughs tiredly. He likes that Nate doesn’t seem weirded out by the fact he’s been gone for six years, even if Ray is still having a hard time wrapping his mind around the fact he’s willingly being friendly with an Officer because that Officer is kind of cool.
”Right,” Nate says. “If I’m not back in time for dinner, order me something anyways. I’ll try to pick up some more booze on my way home.” The last comment is directed towards Brad, and Brad makes a sound in affirmation. “I’m really sorry.”
”Just go to work, Nate,” Brad says in amused exasperation. “We won’t leave without saying goodbye and you’ll still have a house to come home to.”
”I swear to god, sometimes you’re worse than Evan,” Nate says fondly. He grabs his keys from the ceramic bowl on the table in the hall though, and he leaves quietly with a vague wave to them from over his shoulder.
”What do we do now?” Walt asks, trying to smooth down his hair. It’s clumping together in tufts, and he ducks away every time Ray comes close to keep him from mussing it up.
”Find some ecstasy and have a rave?” Ray suggest.
Walt looks at him in confusion, and even though he’s probably not entirely sure what Ray suggested he doesn’t seem impressed with the idea. “I don’t think Nate would like us having a rave in his home while he’s gone.”
”Nate wouldn’t like us having a rave in his home at all,” Brad says wryly. He shoots Ray an unimpressed look, before glancing at Walt. “Nate’s got a library,” he says, nodding towards the glass doors leading to what Ray had assumed was an office. “Or you could watch TV.”
There’s a look on Walt’s face, like maybe he’s remembering his last few attempts to watch TV and edges towards the library slowly. “I think maybe I should just find something to read.”
Brad snorts softly, shaking his head. He turns on his heels and walks further into the townhouse, Walt slipping into Nate’s library quietly, and when left with the choice of who to follow and annoy, Ray chooses Brad.
Logically, Ray feels like there are a lot of things he and Brad need to talk about still but the more honest part of him just wants to stay at Brad’s side for a little while longer.
- - -
Brad has already managed to pull out his laptop and relax back on the guest bed when Ray finds him, slouching low and his knees drawn up. He glances up briefly before dropping his gaze back down his screen. He pauses typing enough to scoot over along the headboard, and Ray accepts the invitation for what it’s worth.
It’s warm sitting pressed against Brad’s side, and they don’t say a thing. All of those things they should talk about, that they’re going to have to if there’s any hope of them maybe not killing each other in the future, seem irrelevant. Brad is warm, the steady clicking of the keys lulling Ray into a state of not-quite alertness as he answers the mess of e-mails that have been piling up.
Ray rests his cheek against Brad’s shoulder and closes his eyes, and he bites his lip when Brad stops typing. For a moment, the only sounds are coming from the city outside the window and the steady breathing in and out of Brad’s body.
”Ray,” Brad says softly. He tips his head to the side, his cheek brushing against Ray’s hair gently, and Ray can feel the soft exhale of Brad’s breath on his scalp. For a moment he just stays like that, his cheek to the top of Ray’s head, and Ray wonders if he was wrong. Maybe they don’t have to talk about this thing between them at all and they can still be functioning human beings.
He thinks, somewhat bitterly, if they talked they might actually stand a chance of having sex sometime in the next century but it’s a goal he’s willing to work for. For now, Ray is comfortable tucked into Brad’s side and eyes half-lidded, trying to will himself to sleep.
Eventually, Brad lifts his head up and starts taping away at his keyboard again, but he doesn’t push Ray away or ask him to move, and Ray has no intention of doing either.
- - -
Not only does Nate return home with booze, he also managed to find pasta noodles and spaghetti sauce. He dumps it all onto the counter with a tired groan and rubs his hands through his hair slowly, messing up the overgrown strands. “Why is the first time I take time off in over a year is the one time someone fucks up?” Nate asks tiredly.
”They were probably fucking up before,” Brad replies dismissively, nudging Nate out of the way to investigate the content of the bags. “Just more quietly.”
Ray snorts and Nate makes a sound of agreement.
Grabbing two beers from the bags, Nate makes his way over to the bar and offers one out to Ray. “You’re probably right,” Nate says agreeably. “But that doesn’t mean I have to appreciate them screwing up.”
”People always screw up,” Brad huffs out. He starts rooting through Nate’s cabinets, pulling out pots and pans, and Ray wonder what it says about Nate that Nate doesn’t seem the least bit concerned Brad is cooking in his house again. Ray wonders how many times Brad has done this before, but he doesn’t let himself dwell on it.
Nate just hums thoughtfully and takes a long drag of his drink. “Speaking of people,” Nate says, sitting up straighter and looking around. “Where’s Walt?”
”Last I checked he was curled up with a book in your office,” Ray replies. He pops the top on his beer and swishes it in his hand slowly. “He thought it was more interesting than helping me snoop around. How the fuck do you not have a PlayStation, LT?”
”I don’t really have a lot of time for video games,” Nate says, expression indifferent. “But if it makes you feel better, there’s an Atari in my closet upstairs.”
That seems to catch Brad’s attention, and he ignores the running water of the faucet to look over his shoulder at Nate. “Does it still work?”
Nate’s amusement is obvious and he nods his head and shrugs. “I’m pretty sure it does, yeah. I’ll dig it out after dinner if you want.”
Brad doesn’t say anything in response, but there’s a smile on his face.
Nate and Ray share a look, Nate’s expression fond and Ray just amused as fuck, but that is pretty much on course for Brad. And honestly, Ray wouldn’t have it any other way.
- - -
Walt wanders out of the library when the smell of spaghetti sauce starts to fill the house, and true to his word, Nate finds his old Atari after dinner. It takes some coaxing on Brad’s behalf to bring in to life, and Nate brings more beer before joining him on the floor to watch him play Missile Command.
There’s a mildly intrigued look on Walt’s face as he watches, With the Old Breed laying abandoned on his lap. “I feel like this explains so much,” Walt says fondly.
”You should see Brad’s place back in California,” Ray says. He’s got a TV this big - “ Ray gestures widely with his hands, and is only mildly annoyed Nate and Brad are ignoring him. “- and way more up to date video game systems. You should really be surprised he’s not as ghost pale.”
”That’s because I surf in the mornings instead of lying in bed and jerking off all day,” Brad says without looking back at them. “You’d be tan to if you went outside once in a while.”
”Bah,” Ray says dismissively, chucking one of the throw pillows at the back of Brad’s head. He laughs when Brad starts to curse, and he can’t move out of the way fast enough before Brad throws it back and hits him in the chest.
- - -
Ray’s stepping out of Nate’s upstairs bathroom when he bumps into Brad. “Hey, whoa,” he says, stepping back quickly to catch himself.
Brad’s fingers curl around Ray’s bicep and holds on, keeping him from slipping back into the bathroom. “Careful, dumbass,” he says, but there’s a soft affection to his tone. He doesn’t let go, even after Ray gets his feet under him, and he doesn’t pull away.
To be honest, Ray is tired of this bullshit. He’s tired of just touching and never saying anything, he’s tired of the looks Brad gives him, but more than that, Ray’s tried of the low ache in his chest every time Brad pulls a stunt like this and Ray is left to jerk off in the bathroom at the first chance he gets.
Maybe it’s because it’s late, or because he’s had just as many beers as Nate and Brad, but Ray is tired of making excuses. He reaches for Brad’s shirt, the back of his neck, pulling him in closer before pushing up on his toes to be able to press their lips together in a kiss.
Time stands still. Brad’s fingers tighten around Ray’s arm, to the point of hurting, and he tugs and pushes until Ray’s back is against the hallway wall and he can lean in and kiss him proper. It’s slow at first, Brad’s fingers pressing against Ray’s jaw and around his arm, but he’s pressing so close that Ray is getting dizzy from the contact and warmth.
It shouldn’t surprise Ray so much that Brad isn’t particularly good at this, what with all the time he spends with hookers, but that makes it sweet, in its own way. Brad doesn’t stop pinning Ray back against the wall but he seems more than willingly to let Ray’s tongue rub against his lower lip and to part his own in easy submission.
Ray doesn’t mind leading this at all. It’s easy to press his hips and chest forward to feel as much of Brad as he can, moaning softly when Brad starts to grind back. His tongue traces the ridge of Brad’s teeth, swooping along his upper palette and avoiding the flick of Brad’s own tongue, and when Ray’s fingers rub circles along the back of Brad’s neck, Brad moans into him.
Brad’s hips grind against Ray, the line of his cock obvious in his jeans and Ray pushes his hips against it eagerly. “Ray,” he groans, breaking the kiss to press nips and kisses along Ray’s jaw. “We really shouldn’t be doing this.”
”So tell me to stop,” Ray breathes. He pushes himself onto his toes, bowing his back towards Brad when he pushes up against him and his breathe catches in his throat because it feels so fucking good. Ray digs his nails into Brad’s neck and tries to drag him back into the wall, rolling his hips up sharply again. “I swear to God, Brad - “
Brad just moans and drops his hands to Ray’s hips, his ass, gripping tightly and practically dragging Ray’s body up the wall to press him against him tight. It’s harder for Ray to thrust up, but Brad’s lips start trailing down Ray’s throats, and he keeps grinding his cock against Ray’s through their clothes.
”We should - “ Ray starts, but his words fade to a moan when Brad sucks at his throat. “Fuck, yes, keep doing that.” He wraps his arm around Brad’s shoulders, straining forward on his toes to get one of his legs around Brad’s thighs, biting his lip to keep from moaning too loudly. “Bed, Brad. Now.”
The sound Brad makes is almost disappointed, and he doesn’t let go of Ray. The grinding of his hips and press of his lips only stops long enough to grip Ray’s wrist and tug, and Ray is more than willing to follow wherever Brad wants to lead him.
- - -
They fall onto Nate’s bed, because it’s closest and Walt is sleeping in the guest room across the hall. Ray would feel guilty, especially since Nate is downstairs and on Skype with Christeson and Stafford, but he can’t bring himself to care. All that matters is wiggling out of his sweats and pulling Brad’s cock out of his jeans and rutting against him mindlessly until he comes.
Brad finds cherry flavored lube in Nate’s nightstand, which has them both grinning, and at least the unopened bottle isn’t going to waste. Brad pours it in his hand and braces himself over Ray, nipping at his chest and shoulders.
Ray bites his tongue to keep from crying out when Brad’s fingers circle around his cock, his grip warm and tight and sure, and there’s no hesitance in the quick strokes he gives. Ray digs his heels into the mattress and thrusts up, and Brad’s only reaction is to huff a strained laugh and to drag Ray’s hand to his own cock and grind against his fingers pointedly.
Ray’s not stupid, he can take a hint. And he’s more than willing to grip Brad’s cock in his fist, pressing his thumb under the head and squeezing tight.
The angles are difficult but not unworkable, and Ray only lets go of Brad long enough to slick his hand with the lube as well before jerking Brad off again. They mirror each other’s grips, the squeeze, but both of them are doing more thrusting into the other’s fist than actually stroking. It’s still good though, perfect, leaving Ray torn between thrusting into Brad’s fist or arching into his mouth.
When he comes, Ray bites his lip hard enough to split it in a pathetic attempt to keep from crying out. He can’t hold back the breathless needy sounds as his cock pulses and he spills over Brad’s fingers and his stomach.
The noise just encourages Brad to bite down harder, gripping Ray’s hip with a come covered hand and thrusting against his stomach harder. The press of his slick cock makes the muscles in Ray’s stomach tremble, a low throb of arousal through his system.
Brad makes a quiet sound as he comes, a soft keening cry, and he presses his forehead to Ray’s chest as he thrusts his hips forward weakly.
Ray’s pretty sure Nate is going to be pissed at them, but for now, he couldn’t care less. All he wants to do is rub his fingers across Brad’s scalp slowly, arms wrapped around his shoulders, and never let go again.
- - -
Ray feels dizzy and lightheaded when he stumbles into the room he’s sharing with Walt, just in time to press his hand to Walt’s brow and soothe him down from one of his fits.
Walt trembles, whining softly, but slowly he blinks his eyes open. He shudders once more, rolling closer to Ray and resting his cheek against Ray’s outstretched arm. “You smell like cherries,” he says tiredly, and then he closes his eyes and drifts off again.
Ray laughs from how fucked up that comment is, but he doesn’t try to fight Walt off of him. It’s easier to just relax into the mattress and accept his face. As loose and good as Ray’s feeling, it doesn’t take much for him to fall asleep, either.
- - -
Ray is the last one to make it downstairs for breakfast in the morning, and he isn’t really surprised at the dark look Nate shoots him over his coffee. He looks at Brad to ask if that means what he thinks it means, and Brad just smiles sheepishly in return. In hindsight, they should probably have tried to clean up more or at least remake Nate’s bed before they left.
”Walt and I are going to the Air and Space Museum today,” Nate says, his tone carefully even. He sips his coffee and his gaze is judgmental when he looks at Ray. “Probably hit up the Natural History and Science museums as well. Brad didn’t want to come with.”
”I’d rather cut my dick off than tour around DC in the summer,” Brad says curtly.
Ray has to agree with that. There’s also something exciting about the prospect of being left alone with Brad that’s pretty exciting, and Ray wonders how many rooms he can convince Brad to fuck in. He should probably feel bad for the thought, but the remorse isn’t coming. “I’ve spent the last two months in a cramped room with strangers or a tiny ass car. I think I’ll chill here with Brad.”
Walt looks mildly disappointed at the words, but he doesn’t object. Probably because he’s never been to DC and Ray is starting to suspect he might be a little bit of a history geek - or that could just be him trying to process what’s happened in the sixty years he’s been gone. There are certainly worse people he could spend the day with though.
Nate hums and takes another sip of his coffee. “Your loss,” he says casually, “but I’d appreciate it if you avoided fucking in my bed again.” His expression is calm but his tone implies punishment, and it’s scary how much he reminds Ray of Ray’s momma.
Ray can’t help but grin sheepishly and Brad almost looks pained, though probably more from being called out than actual guilt.
Walt sputters and milk dribbles out of his nose, but he turns pink and waves off any offers for assistance. “I’m just - going - “ His cheeks turn even redder and he nearly knocks over his cup when he stands up. “I’m going to go get ready.”
”Shit,” Nate says as soon as Walt flees, as if realizing something. “I’m sorry, guys - “
”Walt’s from another time,” Brad replies quietly. He stands up but stills when Ray touches a hand to his arm.
”I’ll talk to him,” Ray says. “I mean, I’m the faggot he’s been sleeping with, right?”
”Ray.” Both Brad and Nate say his name quietly, but Ray shakes his head and dispels their concerns. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s got punched in the face for smoking cock, but Ray’s gut tells him that Walt isn’t that kind of guy.
- - -
Walt is sitting at the edge of the bed they’re sharing and rolling his comb between his fingers. He looks up when Ray walks in, startled, before dropping his gaze to his socks and turning red. “I’m sorry.”
”Don’t worry about it,” Ray says, shoving his hands in his pockets. He understands that Walt was caught off guard, and he certainly doesn’t hold it against him. He and Walt have been through a lot together, even if it doesn’t seem like it. There are more important things to dwell on.
”I didn’t think you were queer.” Almost as soon as the word is out of Walt’s mouth, he flinches visibly. “I mean. I don’t. I still like you and all. And Brad.”
”I know,” Ray replies softly. He moves closer, and when Walt doesn’t tense up at his proximity, Ray sits down on the bed next to him. “Really, it’s fine. Nate feels like shit and Brad thinks you don’t love him anymore and it’s best if you know, don’t mention it? Because Brad could lose his job.”
”I won’t!” Walt says earnestly, looking up at Ray with a hurt expression. “It’s not my business to tell people.”
Ray smiles and claps Walt’s back gently. When Walt doesn’t object or go tense, Ray rubs soothing circles against his shoulders. “You’re alright stuff, Walt.”
”Golly,” Walt says with wide eyes and a mocking tone, “That means so much to me, Ray.” He can’t stop the smile from spreading across his face and Ray just grins at him in response. He’s quiet for a moment, toying with the hem of his shirt, before asking, “Do you love him?”
The question catches Ray off guard and he doesn’t really know how to answer it. The answer isn’t that simple. Except, when Ray thinks about it, maybe it is. Because this ache in his chest when he thinks about Brad is persistent and he doesn’t want to roll over and touch Brad forever. It’s not like it happened over night, there’s a part of Ray that’s wanted to stay by Brad’s side and take care of him from the very beginning.
Walt just smiles gently and leans over to bump his shoulder against Ray’s. “I thought so.”
”I didn’t say a damn thing,” Ray huffs, bumping back against Walt. “You’re just seeing things. Puppy is going crazy.”
”I’m not a puppy!” Walt objects, twisting around to push Ray away from him. He manages to knock Ray off the bed, but Ray catches himself easily. “I’m going to Nate. Nate is nicer than you.”
”That’s because Nate is nicer than everyone in existence,” Ray huffs. He doesn’t add unless you have sex in his bed, but he’s pretty sure Nate will forgive him of that soon enough.
Walt just smiles his agreement before standing up and straightening his shirt. He looks confused when Ray doesn’t start to follow him, but Ray just waves him off. Shrugging, Walt leaves without him and Ray sits back down on the bed to think.
- - -
The thing is, Ray’s never really been good at the relationship thing. There’s a reason he’s never had a girlfriend for more than a few months -and certainly never a boyfriend. The longest relationship he’s ever had with a guy was strictly sex only, and it was before he joined the Marines. Roxy was his longest experience with a girl, and she eventually left him to get married to some other asshole.
For all the times Ray has teased Brad about this, he doesn’t really have much ground to stand on either. Brad might have been onto something with the hooker thing, but Ray kind of likes having someone to share a bed with at night. Except when they kick a lot or steal the covers, but Ray does that so he can’t complain. He’s really surprised Walt hasn’t complained about it yet.
And this thing with Brad -
Ray doesn’t even know. He doesn’t know what to do about it and he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to hold onto it. He’s not even sure if Brad intends for this to be more than just an excuse to fuck his way across America. Ray hopes not.
It’s stupid how much Ray aches from the thought that this might be it, just a few days of fucking around in Nate’s place where it can’t hurt Brad’s career any if they get caught. Ray’s pretty sure that’s not Brad’s intent, because it’s Brad. If he wanted someone to stick his dick in, he of all people knows it would be ten times easier - and maybe even better, but Ray is holding out that he’s a fuck awesome lay - if he just met someone in a bar or paid for it. Even if they haven’t exactly had time for any of that lately.
It’s times like these Ray wishes he could just read people’s thoughts, because he doesn’t want to have to talk about this. He doesn’t want to be the one to have feelings for someone else if they don’t return them. Ray’s been there before. It fucking sucks.
Ray can hear the door slamming shut when Nate and Walt leave, but he doesn’t move from his perch. He kind of wants Brad to come looking for him, but he never does and Ray wonders if that’s a sign, somehow. Then he decides he’s not a fucking teenage girl and if he wants answers he has to get them for himself.
Which, is easier said than done.
- - -
Nate’s couch is built for fucking on. It’s more than deep enough for Ray to lay back and spread his legs wide, arching his hips up to feel more of Brad’s fingers and tongue and cock. His nails scratch at the fabric covering it not caring if it leaves a mark, and he only feels a little bit guilty that the lube dripped onto the cushion.
None of that matters when Brad’s hands are on his hips, fingers digging in tight and holding them at the angle he wants. He presses kisses to Ray’s shoulders, his throat, nipping along his collarbone and biting at his nipples and he thrusts into Ray with steady, sharp thrusts that leave Ray clawing at his back and begging for more.
There is probably a special level of hell for people who abuse their friend’s trust like this, but Nate said to stay off his bed and they’re nowhere near it.
- - -
Ray takes a shower after and wonders how the fuck talking ended up meaning having Brad’s tongue down his throat, but he really doesn’t mind. The smell of cherries doesn’t really go away, even after Ray’s scrubbed his skin red, and he gives up on it as a lost cause.
He’d offered to let Brad join him, but Brad muttered something about cleaning up their mess and he’s at the bar in the kitchen with his laptop when Ray makes his way back downstairs. Brad’s eating a sandwich, careful to keep the crumbs from falling on his keyboard as he works.
Brad doesn’t say a thing when Ray steals half of his sandwich and sits next to him, but Ray didn’t really expect him to. Ray’s not really sure what he’s doing now and he’s feeling too sullen to test the talking equals sex hypothesis he has going on. Not that it probably wouldn’t be worth it, but they have the house to themselves for a few more hours at least. That’s plenty of time for sex.
”Gunny wants to know if I’m bringing you back to Pendleton with me,” Brad says, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist before glancing over at Ray. He watches Ray chew slowly, and his expression is carefully blank. “The guys aren’t sure if they want to get you drunk or kick your ass for making us worry.”
”Because I totally lost the last six years of my life on purpose,” Ray says around a mouthful of sandwich. He smirks when Brad wrinkles his nose but swallows his food anyways before speaking. “I already told you, I’m staying with you.”
Brad looks torn between being amused or disgusted, and settles with shaking his head and looking back at his laptop. “Then we’re going to have to leave here tomorrow to head back to California. If we drive straight through we can make it back in three days.”
The words come like a punch to the gut and Ray doesn’t even know why. He knows Brad had a week of leave left, just. Somehow he felt like they would have more time. If feels like they just got to DC and Ray hasn’t even gone out and done any of the touristy shit people are supposed to do when they’re here. Not that Ray wanted to before, but know that he knows he can’t he kind of wants to.
Brad’s hand touches Ray’s shoulder, skimming until he can curl his fingers around the back of Ray’s neck and squeezes gently. He doesn’t look at Ray, but Ray is glad for the comfort. “I can take you back to your mother’s, if you prefer.”
”No,” Ray says, because that’s not it at all. He sighs, and shoves the last of his sandwich in his mouth before dropping his elbows to the bar top and pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. He chews slowly and swallows before saying, “It just feels so fucking surreal. Like these last few weeks haven’t…”
”I know,” Brad says softly.
Going back to Pendleton with Brad will mean this isn’t just some sort of fucked up dream he’s been living. Maybe he could have written it all off, but Pendleton is the end of the line. If he doesn’t wake up then, he never will. Ray really will have lost six years of his life. He’ll be going home to the Brothers who thought he abandoned them or died in the desert. It’s too fucked up to think about.
”It’s fine,” Ray decides eventually, craning his neck to look at Brad better. The fingers around his neck squeeze gently, reassuring, and Brad’s face is carefully blank. “You tell Nate yet?”
”This morning,” Brad replies. “Walt walked in while he were talking about it. I think he’s tired of living in a Jeep and motel rooms.” It explains why Walt and Nate wanted them to go see the city with them, earlier then. A last ditch effort at communication. “Ray.”
”Stop,” Ray says, shaking his head. He realizes his mistake as soon as Brad drops his hand from Ray’s neck, going still at Ray’s side. “I didn’t mean - I’m fine, Brad. You don’t have to worry about me.” He leans in close enough to bump his shoulder against Brad’s and smiles. Before he can think better of it, he ducks his head and kisses Brad’s shoulder through his shirt. “I’m always fine.”
”That doesn’t mean I’m not going to worry,” Brad says softly. The look on his face is painfully honest and Ray closes his eyes to keep from looking away, resting his cheek on Brad’s shoulder and trying to remember to just breathe.
- - -
Walt’s cheeks are tinged red with sunburn when he and Nate make it home, and he presents Ray with a snow globe almost as soon as they’re through the door. “Because you didn’t come with,” he explains, and Ray shakes it up to watch the flakes drift around the Washington monument.
He gives one to Brad as well, almost shyly, and mutters an apology with his eyes on his shoes and his ears going red. Brad just waves the words away and shakes up the White House and comments dryly, “if only it had the same powers as a voodoo doll.”
The comment makes Nate laugh, stripping out his sweaty tee-shirt in the hall. “Do you guys want to go out for dinner or order more take out? There’s a Thai place nearby that delivers, or I know a couple of burger joints.”
Brad and Ray both look at Walt, all giddy joy from his day out but the quiet exhaustion is obvious in his eyes. They share a look and the decision is obvious. “We’ll do Thai,” Brad says decisively. “That gives you two time to shower.”
Nate tosses his shirt at Brad but Brad catches it easily, mindful of the snow globe Walt bought him. Though, Ray suspects Nate was actually the one to pay because he doesn’t remember Walt having any money of his own. In the end, it doesn’t matter.
- - -
They eat dinner in the living room, Walt and Nate freshly showered and aloe rubbed into their sunburned skin. Nate protests half-heartedly but gives in easily enough. It leaves the four of them sitting around his glass topped coffee table and trading stories in between bites of spiced beef and chicken.
Walt tells them about the city excitedly, gesturing widely with his hands and smiling sheepishly when he almost knocks over Ray’s beer. His cheeks are starting to get flushed from the alcohol that Nate didn’t want to let him have but Walt had just looked at him seriously and said he was born in 1926, making him well past the legal age for booze. Nate had grinned and given in.
It’s going to be hard to let this go, Ray thinks, but then again, it won’t be that different. He’ll miss Nate, who is snarky and cheeky and the best LT Ray’s ever had, but he knows where Nate lives now and Ray’s never been one to turn down an open invitation to crash in at the most inconvenient of times.
For now, Ray just wants to enjoy listening to Brad talk about his time in England and Nate rant over the stupid shit he had to put up with in Harvard and work. He smiles slyly when Ray asks about his sex life, and Ray is forcibly reminded of the bottle of cherry flavored lube in Brad’s pocket right now. The only reason Ray doesn’t push it is because Walt startles and does knock over Ray’s beer.
This is what Ray missed out on in the last six years, and it makes his chest ache in a way he doesn’t know how to deal with. Nate just passes him another beer as Walt cleans up the mess he made as best he can, and Ray thinks, he’s got this now though, and that’s good enough.
- - -
Ray steps out for a smoke after dinner has started to settle, and he’s only a little surprised Nate joins him. He did steal the cigarettes from Nate’s coat pocket, so he shouldn’t be, but it’s still weird to be left alone with the LT. He doesn’t know if that’s ever happened before.
Nate doesn’t say anything until he lights his own cigarette and he sits down on the steps slowly. “There’s a reason I never use that lube,” he says casually, without looking up at Ray. “Everything smells like cherries for days afterwards. Can’t stand it anymore. Somehow it keeps getting pilfered from my drawers though.”
”I’m pretty sure Brad plans on keeping it, so you don’t have to worry there,” Ray replies. He grins and flicks the budding ashes from his cigarette. He wonders if he should be embarrassed, but he’s too warm and happy to care. “The stains came out of your couch, at least.”
”Jesus Christ,” Nate says with a laugh. He tips his head back to look up at Ray and there’s a wry smile on his face. “I suppose I should thank you for staying out of my bed, this time.” His tone is dripping with sarcasm, but Ray bows to him anyways.
They slip into an easy silence after that, and Ray doesn’t mind it in the least. It’s weird to think he could be friends with Nate, but he finds he really doesn’t mind. Nate has been surprisingly good to them, considering.
- - -
”I’ve decided to stay here with Nate,” Walt blurts out when Ray is trying to pour himself a glass of iced tea. It startles Ray into spilling on the counter, and when Ray turns to look at him his eyes are wide and he looks guilty. “I’m sorry, I just -“
”You’re staying here?” Ray asks, and there’s an ache in his chest. He feels betrayed almost, though he has no right to be. He just always thought he and Walt were going to stick together. He promised himself he’d never let Walt go again, and yet -
”I just,” Walt repeats himself. “I like it here and Nate said it was okay. And he knows someone - “ Walt hesitates again, dropping his gaze and sucking in a breath before looking up at Ray with steely determination. “Nate says he has a friend that knows how to deal with. You know. PT - PTS?”
Walt stumbles over the letters and Brad’s quiet voice corrects him. “PTSD.”
Walt turns on his heels to see Brad, and there’s only a brief flash of guilt on his face. “Yeah, that,” he says quietly. “Nate is nice. I like it here, and it’s only an hour away so if I wanted - If I needed to - “ He doesn’t say Joseph’s name and his pain is obvious on his face and in his voice. “I shouldn’t have run out on him like that. I have to make amends. I’m just not ready, yet.”
”You don’t have to apologize to anyone,” Brad says, his tone still quiet. He’s shut himself off a little bit, and judging by the way Walt’s resolve is crumbling, he’s noticing it to. “It’s not your fault you were gone.”
”I want to do this, Brad,” Walt says, almost pleading. “I want to be here in case I have to and I don’t want to get in the way of you and Ray - “
”Whoa, hey, you’re not in the way of me and Brad -“ Ray says. He feels lightheaded and he has so many things he wants to say and no idea how to voice any of them. “Walt.”
Walt shakes his head and looks at them both with a steady gaze in turn. “This is something I need to do. I can’t go back to the Marines after all this time. I don’t even know what half the stuff in Nate’s house does, let alone the rest of the world. I need to be close to my brother and I want to go to Arlington and.” A crooked little smile. “And you guys have to come visit and when I get a job I can come visit you.”
It’s not what Ray wants to hear at all, but Brad interrupts him to say, “you’ll always be welcome with us, Walt.”
Biting his tongue, Ray nods his agreement. He doesn’t want to leave Walt behind, but it’s obvious Walt’s made up his mind. And Ray made his mind up long ago, before any of this happened. He’s known practically since he met Brad that he had to take care of the dumb Viking, too focused on the job and emotionally retarded to do it himself. Even before Ray wanted to get on his knees and suck.
Ray can feel Walt’s eyes on him, almost pleading, and he swallows the lump that’s forming in his throat. “You better fucking believe you’re going to visit,” he says, and when Walt’s face breaks into a grin, Ray can only hope he’s done the right thing.
- - -
Walt is sleeping quietly at Ray’s side, the gentle rise and fall of his chest reassuring. It makes Ray’s heart ache in a way he doesn’t know how to deal with, and he pulls the blankets up to Walt’s chin before rolling out of bed himself. He can’t stay here and hate Walt for his decision when Walt looks so happy and at ease.
So Ray sneaks out of the room and down the stairs to the small guest bedroom Brad is staying in. It’s barely more than a bed pressed against the wall to make room for even more bookshelves, but Brad is there and that’s good enough.
Brad makes an inquisitive sound when Ray stumbles into the room through the dark, and he pulls off his shirt before straddling Brad’s lap. Brad’s hands touch Ray’s hips easily, dragging him closer to fit better and he pushes himself up onto his elbows at the same time Ray leans down to kiss him.
Their motions are mechanical, stripping each other and kicking back the sheets, but Ray doesn’t let Brad roll him over onto his back. Ray wants to be on top for once, wants to be able to put some distance between them because he’s doing this to dislodge the pain in his chest as much as he is doing this to just to get off. He’s only doing this because it’s Brad, giving himself away like this, but Brad just lays back and whispers praises and lets him.
The smell of cherries is almost sickly sweet and Ray could laugh from it. He thinks Nate might have been on to something but he doesn’t care. All that matters is that it means Brad’s cock can push into him with ease and Ray can roll his hips and take care of them both. It’s slow and easy, Ray’s hands on Brad’s chest to lever himself, and Ray tries not to think about anything at all.
After, when they’re both sticky and spent, Brad drags Ray down by his shoulders and whispers come back to me, Ray into the dark. He shhs Ray quietly when he starts to tremble, the feeling of abandonment and failure flaring through Ray’s system once again and Ray lets himself be comforted. He curls his fingers around Brad’s neck, his arm, and he just holds on.
”What are we even doing, Brad?” Ray asks, his cheeks wet where he presses his face to Brad’s chest, and he would be embarrassed but he’s too tired to care. If Brad does, it doesn’t stop him from petting down Ray’s spine soothingly - or maybe that’s why he does it.
”I don’t know,” Brad confesses quietly. It makes Ray ache, heart clenching in his chest, but Brad presses a kiss to the top of his head to soothe him. “I just know I’m not going to lose you again, Ray,” Brad whispers, and, “I can’t.”
As Ray is trembling on top of him and trying not to cry, he thinks that might be the only answer that matters. It calms him down, eases his heartaches and worries, and Ray wipes the wetness from his cheeks with his fingers.
”Brad,” Ray starts, but Brad silences him with fingers pressing against his lips deftly in the dark and a whispered, “I know.”
And Ray’s tired of fighting, so he closes his eyes and simple lets it be.
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