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withimpunityTitle: The Invitation
Pairing: Brad/Nate, light!Walt/Gabe
Rating: Adult
Words: 1093
A/n: Written for [Bad username or site: my documents @ livejournal.com] at the Fall Fandom Free-for-All. She wanted Brad/Nate, Walt/Gabe, in which the boys go surfing, and there is much amusement that Nate, being a proper East Coast boy, cannot surf. I sort of got that.
“Could the LT look like more of a retard?” Gabe laughs as Nate topples off the board again. They’d promised they’d make the Lieutenant into a proper West Coast surfer once they got back stateside, but they hadn’t known he was going to be about as damn graceful as a fucking pogue trying to reassemble an M4 blindfolded.
“Brad looks like he wants to drown ‘im,“ Walt chuckles, sipping on the bottle of water nestled between his legs. Gabe reaches behind them and digs another coke out of the cooler, flicking a piece of ice at Walt before shutting the lid.
“Fucker!” Walt jerks when it hits his stomach, melting as it slides down his sun-warmed skin, threatening to head below the belt. “Gabe, you little bitch.” He grumbles, digging what’s left of the ice sliver out of his board shorts, and glares at Gabe; his glasses have slid down his nose a little and he’s watching Walt with his lips parted.
“I don’t see how you do it,” Nate’s voice is like a whip cracked between them, setting them both at attention. Brad opens the cooler and reaches all the way to the bottom, digging out a bottle of water for each of them.
“Balance, sir.” Nate glares at him as he unscrews the lid; Brad shrugs. “Some people have it. You obviously are not one of them.” A predatory grin spreads across his mouth when Nate flips him off.
“Don’t listen to him, LT. You were awesome.” Gabe grins. “Regular Gidget.”
“We’ve only been here an hour,” Nate twists the lid onto his water bottle and stuffs it back underneath the ice in the cooler. “You ready to get back out there, Brad?”
“I don’t know. Are you ready to quit dicking around and get serious about it?” Brad lifts an eyebrow at him. His shoulders are already looking pink; Nate didn’t know there were freckles there. He opens his mouth to remind him he should apply sunscreen, but thinks better of it.
“I didn’t know you took surfing so seriously.”
“I take all forms of art seriously, sir.” Brad steps forward, ignoring Nate’s annoyed expression again. “And surfing is an art form. If you take it seriously and listen to me, I‘ll have you carving waves before the sun sets.”
“Ooh, that sounds like a challenge LT.” Gabe squints up at them in the direct sunlight.
“That’s because it is.” Brad’s mouth opens wide as he smiles, bright white teeth blinding them all as he wraps his arms around his board and heads back down to the ocean. Nate glances back at Walt and Gabe for one last pitying grin and follows.
“Why are you sniffing me?”
“I am not sniffing you.”
“Brad, your nose is pressed against my back and you are inhaling. Call it what you want.”
Brad snaps his hips and Nate is temporarily silenced.
“I like the way your skin smells after you’ve been in the sun all day.” Nate feels Brad’s nose pressing into his shoulder blade, then his tongue as he lazily swipes it across Nate’s skin. “You taste like the ocean.”
“That’s really romantic, Brad.” Nate says, bracing himself on the bed with one hand as the other strokes his cock, providing himself at least some relief. “Any chance you’ll be getting to the orgasms part of this plan some time today?”
“Fucking pushy bottom,” Brad mumbles and slams into Nate so hard it jars his teeth, his dick hitting Nate’s prostate like it’s a bullseye, then he does it again, and keeps doing it. “This good, sir?”
“Fuck…yeah,” Nate manages to get out as Brad fucks him into the mattress. The headboard smacks against the wall with each thrust of Brad’s hips, and Nate’s pretty sure the neighbors can hear him every time he yells. He should care, but its not something he can help. Its involuntary, like a sneeze or a hiccup. Something slams into your sweet spot, you scream profanities. Just the way it is. “And I fucking mean it about the “sir“, bullshit.”
“You fucking love it and you know it,” Brad whispers next to his ear, or he would, but he’s Brad Colbert, he doesn’t whisper; he breaths into your ear and lets the words travel to your brain. “You love taking my cock, don’t you sir?”
“Brad,” Nate groans, twisting the sheets in his fist until he can hear threads ripping.
“Fucking love the way you look, on your knees for me, bent over like a good little Lieutenant.”
“Oh…shit.” Nate’s spine snaps taut, his body going rigid for half a second as he comes, cock pulsing in his own hand, spilling come all over his fingers and the sheets, and the corner of Brad’s pillow. Brad holds him down, digging the heel of his hand into the back of Nate’s shoulder as he fucks Nate’s tight, quivering hole. Only two more thrusts and then he’s grunting, leaving finger-shaped bruises and angry pink trails down Nate’s back as he comes.
Brad pulls out slowly and lets Nate roll over onto his back, both of them so exhausted they don’t even care about the cleanup right now.
“God, we’re good.” Nate smiles, sated, as Brad lights up a cigarette. On principle, Nate hates the idea of smoking, but watching Brad’s eyelids flutter slightly when he inhales, the plumes of smoke and the shape of his lips when he exhales, its like watching a dirty movie. Apparently, Brad Colbert can turn anything into an art form.
“So, when are we going back out?” Nate asks. The Corps teaches perseverance. If at first you don’t succeed, keep fucking falling on your face until you get lucky.
A slow grin spreads across Brad’s face. “I’ve got a beach house,” he says and a perfect trio of smoke rings float away from his lips. “Wouldn’t have to worry about people staring. I know you hate that.”
“Sounds like a great idea,” Nate yawns softly and folds his hands behind his head. “We could invite Walt and Gabe.”
Brad rolls over onto his side and peers down at Nate. “Sir, I think you should know. I don’t share my toys.” His eyes rake down Nate’s body, then slowly drift back up to his eyes. Its purely possessive and it makes Nate’s dick hard.
Nate’s eyes glint and he throws a leg over Brad’s waist, sitting up and straddling him. “So,” he says, wrapping his fingers around Brad’s still slick cock, stroking it back to hardness. “When do we leave?”
Pairing: Brad/Nate, light!Walt/Gabe
Rating: Adult
Words: 1093
A/n: Written for [Bad username or site: my documents @ livejournal.com] at the Fall Fandom Free-for-All. She wanted Brad/Nate, Walt/Gabe, in which the boys go surfing, and there is much amusement that Nate, being a proper East Coast boy, cannot surf. I sort of got that.
“Could the LT look like more of a retard?” Gabe laughs as Nate topples off the board again. They’d promised they’d make the Lieutenant into a proper West Coast surfer once they got back stateside, but they hadn’t known he was going to be about as damn graceful as a fucking pogue trying to reassemble an M4 blindfolded.
“Brad looks like he wants to drown ‘im,“ Walt chuckles, sipping on the bottle of water nestled between his legs. Gabe reaches behind them and digs another coke out of the cooler, flicking a piece of ice at Walt before shutting the lid.
“Fucker!” Walt jerks when it hits his stomach, melting as it slides down his sun-warmed skin, threatening to head below the belt. “Gabe, you little bitch.” He grumbles, digging what’s left of the ice sliver out of his board shorts, and glares at Gabe; his glasses have slid down his nose a little and he’s watching Walt with his lips parted.
“I don’t see how you do it,” Nate’s voice is like a whip cracked between them, setting them both at attention. Brad opens the cooler and reaches all the way to the bottom, digging out a bottle of water for each of them.
“Balance, sir.” Nate glares at him as he unscrews the lid; Brad shrugs. “Some people have it. You obviously are not one of them.” A predatory grin spreads across his mouth when Nate flips him off.
“Don’t listen to him, LT. You were awesome.” Gabe grins. “Regular Gidget.”
“We’ve only been here an hour,” Nate twists the lid onto his water bottle and stuffs it back underneath the ice in the cooler. “You ready to get back out there, Brad?”
“I don’t know. Are you ready to quit dicking around and get serious about it?” Brad lifts an eyebrow at him. His shoulders are already looking pink; Nate didn’t know there were freckles there. He opens his mouth to remind him he should apply sunscreen, but thinks better of it.
“I didn’t know you took surfing so seriously.”
“I take all forms of art seriously, sir.” Brad steps forward, ignoring Nate’s annoyed expression again. “And surfing is an art form. If you take it seriously and listen to me, I‘ll have you carving waves before the sun sets.”
“Ooh, that sounds like a challenge LT.” Gabe squints up at them in the direct sunlight.
“That’s because it is.” Brad’s mouth opens wide as he smiles, bright white teeth blinding them all as he wraps his arms around his board and heads back down to the ocean. Nate glances back at Walt and Gabe for one last pitying grin and follows.
* * *
“Why are you sniffing me?”
“I am not sniffing you.”
“Brad, your nose is pressed against my back and you are inhaling. Call it what you want.”
Brad snaps his hips and Nate is temporarily silenced.
“I like the way your skin smells after you’ve been in the sun all day.” Nate feels Brad’s nose pressing into his shoulder blade, then his tongue as he lazily swipes it across Nate’s skin. “You taste like the ocean.”
“That’s really romantic, Brad.” Nate says, bracing himself on the bed with one hand as the other strokes his cock, providing himself at least some relief. “Any chance you’ll be getting to the orgasms part of this plan some time today?”
“Fucking pushy bottom,” Brad mumbles and slams into Nate so hard it jars his teeth, his dick hitting Nate’s prostate like it’s a bullseye, then he does it again, and keeps doing it. “This good, sir?”
“Fuck…yeah,” Nate manages to get out as Brad fucks him into the mattress. The headboard smacks against the wall with each thrust of Brad’s hips, and Nate’s pretty sure the neighbors can hear him every time he yells. He should care, but its not something he can help. Its involuntary, like a sneeze or a hiccup. Something slams into your sweet spot, you scream profanities. Just the way it is. “And I fucking mean it about the “sir“, bullshit.”
“You fucking love it and you know it,” Brad whispers next to his ear, or he would, but he’s Brad Colbert, he doesn’t whisper; he breaths into your ear and lets the words travel to your brain. “You love taking my cock, don’t you sir?”
“Brad,” Nate groans, twisting the sheets in his fist until he can hear threads ripping.
“Fucking love the way you look, on your knees for me, bent over like a good little Lieutenant.”
“Oh…shit.” Nate’s spine snaps taut, his body going rigid for half a second as he comes, cock pulsing in his own hand, spilling come all over his fingers and the sheets, and the corner of Brad’s pillow. Brad holds him down, digging the heel of his hand into the back of Nate’s shoulder as he fucks Nate’s tight, quivering hole. Only two more thrusts and then he’s grunting, leaving finger-shaped bruises and angry pink trails down Nate’s back as he comes.
Brad pulls out slowly and lets Nate roll over onto his back, both of them so exhausted they don’t even care about the cleanup right now.
“God, we’re good.” Nate smiles, sated, as Brad lights up a cigarette. On principle, Nate hates the idea of smoking, but watching Brad’s eyelids flutter slightly when he inhales, the plumes of smoke and the shape of his lips when he exhales, its like watching a dirty movie. Apparently, Brad Colbert can turn anything into an art form.
“So, when are we going back out?” Nate asks. The Corps teaches perseverance. If at first you don’t succeed, keep fucking falling on your face until you get lucky.
A slow grin spreads across Brad’s face. “I’ve got a beach house,” he says and a perfect trio of smoke rings float away from his lips. “Wouldn’t have to worry about people staring. I know you hate that.”
“Sounds like a great idea,” Nate yawns softly and folds his hands behind his head. “We could invite Walt and Gabe.”
Brad rolls over onto his side and peers down at Nate. “Sir, I think you should know. I don’t share my toys.” His eyes rake down Nate’s body, then slowly drift back up to his eyes. Its purely possessive and it makes Nate’s dick hard.
Nate’s eyes glint and he throws a leg over Brad’s waist, sitting up and straddling him. “So,” he says, wrapping his fingers around Brad’s still slick cock, stroking it back to hardness. “When do we leave?”
