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Title: Three Things Ray Knows About Brad That No One Else Knows
Pairing: Brad/Ray AU
Rating: A for Adult
Words:1175
Disclaimer: This is based on the ficionalised HBO series, not the actual people portrayed in the book.
A/N: Based on the highschool/always bffs AU I have in my head. So yeah.


I. Brad's adopted.



They're eight years old, trapping lightning bugs in empty mason jars in Brad's backyard, getting eaten up by mosquitoes, when Brad yanks on Ray's arm, pulling him down into the grass with him and whispers, "promise you won't tell anyone." Ray doesn't get why Brad doesn't want anyone else to know. His parents are real nice, not like Ray's mean ass momma, always pulling his ears and buying his clothes from Wal-Mart. But Brad makes him do the super secret handshake and cross his heart and every other playground promise until he's satisfied that Ray won't tell.

They're sixteen years old when Brad hacks into some database somewhere and finds his biological mother, current address and everything. Ray's there when it all goes to shit, to pick up the pieces and put Brad back together when he finds her and she tells him she doesn't want him, never wanted him, and never wants to see him again.

Now, Ray doesn't considered himself an extremely angry or violent person. He's never felt true hate before. At least, not until now. In this moment, he hates this woman he's never met. He hates that Brad feels like this, so vulnerable and rejected, and he needs to make it stop and he can't. Ray's mom fucking sucks, but at least she kept him, you know? He's such a screw up that maybe she shouldn't have, but he's not Brad either. Who in their right fucking mind wouldn't want Brad Colbert?

Ray just doesn't get it.



II. His First Kiss


They get drunk for the first time on Ray's seventeenth birthday on a six pack of Bud and after they finish it off, Brad lights up the joint he bought off one of his sister's friends.

"Don't say I never get you anything," Brad grins, passing Ray the first hit.

They lay on their backs in the bed of Ray's truck and listen to the mixtape that stays in his cassette player, a mixture of Guns N' Roses, Johnny Cash, and The Carpenters. After a while, the stars begin to move, forming their own constellations, and Brad's shoulder starts feeling funny all pressed up against him. Its so humid Ray can hardly breath. He shifts his weight, meaning to prop himself up on one elbow and sit up, but his equilibrium is all fucked and his arm slips and he kind of lands on top of Brad, one hand planted next to Brad's head, holding himself up.

Brad laughs; sometimes it seems Brad only laughs when they get high, and Ray's kind of mesmerized by it for a moment, just hovering there. Brad grins and takes a hit off the joint, leaning up to exhale the smoke into Ray's mouth, only Ray's brain doesn't get the signal soon enough. He opens his mouth too late to shotgun, but Brad's looking at him like he wants to say something, wrapping his fingers around the back of Ray's neck.

"Don't hate me," He whispers before pulling Ray forward and kissing him.


III. He's a Cuddler



They have sex for a the first time in the dead of summer with the windows up and the fans on and the white noise of the radio in the background. Brad's shaking and shivering, sweat rolling down his body as Ray works his fingers inside of him, stretching him open. Ray started off with one finger, slowly worked Brad up to three, and now Brad's squirming and fucking back against Ray's fingers, his hair completely soaked with sweat, saying brokenly, "I need...Ray...fuck...just --"

Ray eases his fingers out of him and turns Brad's face to the side so he can kiss him, licking the salt from Brad's lips. "Fuckin' hot, you know that?" He murmurs into Brad's neck as he slides the condom on and he's not talking about the weather, he's talking about how crazy Brad makes him, how he can't wait another minute to be inside of him.

"Fuck!" Brad shouts as Ray pushes inside of him and God, Brad's so tight and so fucking hot, hotter than Ray had ever imagined it would feel, squeezing around his dick. Then Brad reaches back, gripping Ray's hip and cants his hips back, shoving Ray's dick all the way inside and they both gasp, trembling at the shock of that for a few seconds before they start moving again.

Its fucking amazing - Brad's fucking amazing, but its not enough. Ray needs more, all of him. He can't see Brad's face, can't see him touching himself and these are very important things. He grips Brad's waist tightly and pulls him upright, sitting back onto his heels to let Brad lay back against his chest.

"Much better," Ray murmurs, wrapping his arm around Brad's chest, softly biting his shoulder as he watches Brad's cock slip in and out of the tight circle of his fist, all slippery and shiny with precome. "Jesus, you're so fucking perfect, Brad. M'gonna come, just watching you jerk off on my cock."

"Ray," Brad says, half a threat, half a whimper, and turns his head to the side, kissing Ray's mouth sloppilly as Ray starts to fuck him again; the sound of flesh slapping together wetly drowning out the stupid pop song on the radio. They're both so slick with sweat they can barely hold on to each other anymore, Brad's nails digging into the back of Ray's head for something to grab onto.

"Brad," Ray mutters drunkenly next to his ear, forehead pressed against the back of Brad's head. "You gotta come, baby. C'mon."

Brad grunts loudly and Ray watches over his shoulder as Brad comes in thick, white stripes across his stomach, pushing into Brad's tight ass, riding out his orgasm with him.

"Brad, fuck," Ray whimpers and his fingers scramble for purchase on Brad's hips as he thrusts into him with erratic, punchy movements , biting down on his bottom lip until he feels like his heart is going to explode. Then the world goes white around the edges and Ray opens his mouth in a silent scream, giving himself over completely to his orgasm. 

They lay shoulder to shoulder in the bed after, and Brad doesn't usually smoke, but he reaches over and steals Ray's cigarette from his mouth this time anyway.

"We should shower," He says sleepily, putting the remains of Ray's cigarette out in the ashtray next to his bed.

"Yeah," Ray agrees, "We should." He says, right before he passes out.

When he finally wakes up, Ray is so fucking hot it feels like he woke up on the face of the fucking sun, sticky with sweat and come and Brad's body parts draped across damn near every part of him, a leg thrown over Ray's, arm wrapped around his chest, chin digging into Ray's shoulder. It's about thirteen million degrees and they stink of more than just sex and Ray looks down at Brad's slightly parted lips and there's this moment, this tiny sliver of a moment where he thinks he's kind of in love with Brad Colbert.

He thinks he maybe has been forever.
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