![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
withimpunityTitle: And This One Time In Iraq
Pairing: Brad/Ray
Rating: R
Words: 531
Disclaimer: Not my sandbox, just like to dig my feet in sometimes.
A/n: Just a wee drabble coz I miss my boys like whoooa.
"Dude, I think I might have that PSTD shit." Ray's standing in the breezeway smoking some cheap cigarette when Brad opens the door. He's wearing those ridiculous fucking Elvis glasses and a t-shirt turned inside out, which explains the smell at least. Brad scowls when Ray flicks ashes onto his welcome mat, which okay, isn't so much a welcome mat as it is a wipe-the-shit-off-your-feet mat; Brad's not exactly the welcoming type.
"Ray." Brad shuts his eyes, hoping that when he opens them again, this will all have been some elaborate, sleep deprived hallucination. "Why are you here?"
"See, this was always our problem. You never listen to me, homes." Ray pushes inside the apartment, tossing the butt of his cigarette on the concrete.
"Ray, it is three in the god damned morning. I have to be up in less than one point five hours. Go. Away." But he shuts the door behind them anyway, staring at Ray as he sifts through the drawers in his kitchen, grinning when he finds a bag of skittles and tears it open with his teeth.
"Seriously, dude." Ray says, picking out the green ones. "I can't sleep, and not in the fun, let's-play-what-color-our-MOPP-suits-really-are way. More like the waking up on the shoulder of the freeeway wondering how the hell you got there and whose car you're driving way."
"Jesus, Ray."
"Chill dude, it was only once. Twice maybe, I'm still not sure if I dreamed that or not."
"Sit down."
"Why? Are we going to talk and tell war stories and hug it out and sing kumbayah?"
"No, sit down because your pacing and its fucking annoying."
"Oh. Well. Want my green skittles?"
"Sure, why not." Brad sighs, holding out his hand as Ray sat down on the couch next to him. "Now, since I'm completely fucking awake with no chance of getting back to sleep anytime soon, what's the deal exactly?"
Ray shrugs. "Oh you know, the usual. Can't sleep, no appetite." Brad can see the myriad of colors painted on Ray's tongue when he speaks. "I miss all the noise, the bombs and shit. And that time you jerked me off behind that berm, I kinda miss that too. That was pretty fucking awesome."
A beat. Brad blinks.
"Stress relief technique. You were my RTO. All of our lives-"
"And that time you blew me at that Hadji cigarette factory?"
"You wouldn't shut the hell up. It was distracting. Obviously, I was forced to result to drastic measures."
"Yeah? What about that time you fucked my tight, virgin ass, Brad?"
Brad's eyebrows pull together. "I don't recall ever doing that, Ray," he says slowly, lowering his eyes. "I believe I'd remember that."
Ray licks his lips; Brad bets they taste like orange skittles, Ray's favorite. Then Ray raises one of his eyebrows and his eyes fall down the length of Brad's body and Brad says, "oh," when it finally sinks in, and shifts against the couch.
"Seriously?" He says. "You seriously want me to fuck you or is this some retarded post traumatic thing?"
Ray rolls his eyes. "I don't have PTSD, fucknut. I've wanted to ride your dick since Matilda." And then, just when Brad looks like he's about to lose his shit entirely, "Got lube?"
Pairing: Brad/Ray
Rating: R
Words: 531
Disclaimer: Not my sandbox, just like to dig my feet in sometimes.
A/n: Just a wee drabble coz I miss my boys like whoooa.
"Dude, I think I might have that PSTD shit." Ray's standing in the breezeway smoking some cheap cigarette when Brad opens the door. He's wearing those ridiculous fucking Elvis glasses and a t-shirt turned inside out, which explains the smell at least. Brad scowls when Ray flicks ashes onto his welcome mat, which okay, isn't so much a welcome mat as it is a wipe-the-shit-off-your-feet mat; Brad's not exactly the welcoming type.
"Ray." Brad shuts his eyes, hoping that when he opens them again, this will all have been some elaborate, sleep deprived hallucination. "Why are you here?"
"See, this was always our problem. You never listen to me, homes." Ray pushes inside the apartment, tossing the butt of his cigarette on the concrete.
"Ray, it is three in the god damned morning. I have to be up in less than one point five hours. Go. Away." But he shuts the door behind them anyway, staring at Ray as he sifts through the drawers in his kitchen, grinning when he finds a bag of skittles and tears it open with his teeth.
"Seriously, dude." Ray says, picking out the green ones. "I can't sleep, and not in the fun, let's-play-what-color-our-MOPP-suits-really-are way. More like the waking up on the shoulder of the freeeway wondering how the hell you got there and whose car you're driving way."
"Jesus, Ray."
"Chill dude, it was only once. Twice maybe, I'm still not sure if I dreamed that or not."
"Sit down."
"Why? Are we going to talk and tell war stories and hug it out and sing kumbayah?"
"No, sit down because your pacing and its fucking annoying."
"Oh. Well. Want my green skittles?"
"Sure, why not." Brad sighs, holding out his hand as Ray sat down on the couch next to him. "Now, since I'm completely fucking awake with no chance of getting back to sleep anytime soon, what's the deal exactly?"
Ray shrugs. "Oh you know, the usual. Can't sleep, no appetite." Brad can see the myriad of colors painted on Ray's tongue when he speaks. "I miss all the noise, the bombs and shit. And that time you jerked me off behind that berm, I kinda miss that too. That was pretty fucking awesome."
A beat. Brad blinks.
"Stress relief technique. You were my RTO. All of our lives-"
"And that time you blew me at that Hadji cigarette factory?"
"You wouldn't shut the hell up. It was distracting. Obviously, I was forced to result to drastic measures."
"Yeah? What about that time you fucked my tight, virgin ass, Brad?"
Brad's eyebrows pull together. "I don't recall ever doing that, Ray," he says slowly, lowering his eyes. "I believe I'd remember that."
Ray licks his lips; Brad bets they taste like orange skittles, Ray's favorite. Then Ray raises one of his eyebrows and his eyes fall down the length of Brad's body and Brad says, "oh," when it finally sinks in, and shifts against the couch.
"Seriously?" He says. "You seriously want me to fuck you or is this some retarded post traumatic thing?"
Ray rolls his eyes. "I don't have PTSD, fucknut. I've wanted to ride your dick since Matilda." And then, just when Brad looks like he's about to lose his shit entirely, "Got lube?"
no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 06:39 am (UTC)*cough* I maybe signed up to write Ray/Brad for the
no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 06:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 06:46 am (UTC)"Ray." Brad shuts his eyes, hoping that when he opens them again, this will all have been some elaborate, sleep deprived hallucination. "Why are you here?" So Brad! I can picture that in my mind perfectly.
staring at Ray as he sifts through the drawers in his kitchen, See, that's what happens when you live an humvee with somebody for two months. Your shit becomes there shit, like, for always.
And that time you jerked me off behind that berm, I kinda miss that too. *blinks* I was not expecting that!
Obviously, I was forced to result to drastic measures. You just keep telling yourself that, Brad. God, I wish somebody would write Brad/Ray/Walt. I'd let Trombley come the team one circle jerk, but he doesn't play nice with the other kids. But maybe two-one-bravo wants to play, too. Your fic, it gives me ideas. (See below)
Awesome! Ray is completely hilarious, and I love how Brad deals with his team's combat stress reactions.
no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 07:09 am (UTC)- Hehe, very true, very true. Although I probably think Ray would do this had he not lived in a humvee with Brad for two months, lol.
- *grin* Little taste of Ray's epic randomness for you. :p
- LOL trombley doesn't play well with others, does he? I love me some Walt too, dude. Like if I didn't ship Brad/Ray so hard, I'd tooootally ship Ray/Walt. Yup.
Thanks so much for the feedback, you're way awesome. :D
no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 08:27 am (UTC)Well, not really, it'd send my keyboard crashing to the floor. But the next time I get up, I am so jumping for joy.
no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 09:45 am (UTC)So, um, in short *g*, thank you for the awesome prompt. Have you signed up for the fest? There are like ten Brad/Nate prompts waiting for some love, and a lot of the 'any fandoms' ones would also be great GK inspiration.
no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 08:25 am (UTC)Just...Ray babbling. And Ray going at the Skittles like a heat-seeker on a tailpipe. And Ray babbling because it's an evil scheme to get into Brad's pants. And Ray "reminiscing" about Brad taking care of him.
And this:
"Yeah? What about that time you fucked my tight, virgin ass, Brad?"
Brad's eyebrows pull together. "I don't recall ever doing that, Ray," he says slowly, lowering his eyes. "I believe I'd remember that."
So much win.
no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 09:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 07:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 10:27 am (UTC)That is so Ray!
no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 07:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 11:40 am (UTC)(you must post this to
no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 11:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 07:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 04:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 07:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 08:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 07:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 07:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 07:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 07:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 08:39 pm (UTC)You had their voices down and this was excellent! Thanks so much for writing this! ^_^
no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 08:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-18 11:28 pm (UTC)Great story, and they're both very much in character... Kudos to ya!