cerebellum: ([gk] i was always set to self-destruct)
[personal profile] cerebellum
Title: go check the news
Author: [livejournal.com profile] lunatics_word
Fandom: Generation Kill
Characters/Pairings: Nate/Brad
Wordcount: 2,007
Summary: Smut. Written for my DADT repeal pornfest and [livejournal.com profile] oxoniensis prompt welcome home.
Rating: NC-17 (and how.)
Disclaimer: Based on fictionalised portrayals as seen on the HBO miniseries.
A/N: [livejournal.com profile] idrilka is awesome for doing the beta-reading once again <3

There’s movement and the sound of the key in the lock, and Nate’s heart leaps.

“Honey, I’m home.” Nate’s pretty sure that Brad’s voice is quiet for a reason.

He sits up so fast that it makes his head spin a little.

“You’re home,” he says, not quite believing, after all those fucking months of waiting and going mad because of it. He doesn’t exactly know what to do, so he just asks, “I heard the doorbell ten minutes ago, why did you wait so long?”

Brad shrugs.

“I wasn’t sure if I should just use the key and— I don’t know,” he says, still in his jacket, with a duffel bag in his hand, like he didn’t expect Nate to be waiting, like he thought he should be ready to leave, like Nate wasn’t going mad waiting for him to come home.

Brad shrugs again and shows him the key. He has no intention of getting closer to the bed Nate’s lying on, so Nate stands up instead.

“It’s hardly a promise. Just a piece of metal. I figured I would wait here for you so we can talk.”

“Talk?” Nate asks, biting his lower lip. His hands itch and the dizziness from earlier is still present, even though it should be gone by now. He ignores the way his heart tries to beat its way out of his chest – just like after he got the information about the Humvees were bombarded in an air strike because of bad protocols. He laces his fingers together, staring at Brad’s insecure smile. It doesn’t last long, maybe a few seconds, because when he gets close enough, the duffel bag hits the floor and he’s being pinned to the wall with Brad’s body pressed to his, and they both inhale sharply, even though there’s no actual skin on skin contact.

“You’re fucking dense,” Nate mutters, closing his eyes and clenching his jaw with a faint wave of anger.

“I wasn’t sure,” Brad repeats, looking straight into Nate’s now open eyes.

Fuck self-control.

“You fucking should be. I waited months just for you to come home and let me fuck your brains out. I had days just to think what I was going to do to you once you came back to me. I planned everything and the only missing piece was you. But since you’re home now, it’s on,” Nate whispers, leaning in and adjusting his head so he can lick Brad’s earlobe. Brad shivers and breathes in. He shifts a little, looks at Nate again and kisses him lightly, teasingly.

“Okay,” he says and Nate’s brain freezes for a minute, not processing. It’s not that Nate didn’t plan anything, he went through millions and millions of scenarios when Brad was away (mostly to keep himself from imagining how Brad dies). It won’t be impromptu, that’s for sure – but he didn’t expect Brad to just agree.

It’s deeper than that, and there’s something about it that Nate can’t quite put his finger on. Nate knows Brad trusts him, even if he has doubts sometimes. But that’s something they’ve never discussed, both sides quite pleased with the way things have been, the sex always amazing, doesn’t matter who tops and who bottoms. It’s like another stereotype they’ve never surrendered to. And yet, here they are, Brad letting Nate to have his way with him, to do anything and everything to him.

Brad already knows all of this, like he’s reading Nate’s mind; he smirks and smiles a little smile that doesn’t exactly reach his eyes. Something in Nate’s chest hurts, and he kisses Brad, rough and deep, waiting for pain to go away, but it doesn’t, not exactly. Nate places his hand on Brad’s chest, and when they part for the breath, he presses his forehead to Brad’s, standing on his toes, feeling Brad’s heartbeat under his fingertips and the fabric of his t-shirt.

Eventually, he opens his eyes and looks at Brad, watches him and imagines licking the line of his jaw, biting his neck and touching him everywhere, like he wanted for so long. Instead, Nate just pulls Brad into a hug and breathes in his scent, stroking Brad’s neck softly.

“I missed you,” he whispers, like it’s a secret, even though it’s not. Brad inhales sharply and exhales slowly, the air tickling Nate’s neck. His fingers start tracing the fabric of Nate’s t-shirt, wandering up and down, just enough to expose a glimpse of the skin on Nate’s lower back for a second. Nate breathes his scent in again, trying to refresh his memory, but there’s not much of it, only the smell of the shower gel and shampoo. Nate wants to be able to feel Brad, taste him and smell him, to remind himself that Brad is really alive and here, and he’s not going anywhere until Nate lets him. He lets Brad go, takes a step back and looks at his face, not able too see much in the dim light shining behind the curtains.

“Take off your jacket,” Nate says in raw voice, breathing slowly. Brad’s smirk disappears, leaving his face serious, and Nate hesitates for a second, afraid that Brad might have changed his mind about letting Nate fuck him, but Brad obeys and takes the jacket off. “Turn the light on,” Nate says, calm. “I want to see you.”

Brad obediently turns the light on, and Nate has to take a deep breath in order to stop his heart from beating its way out of his chest. Brad’s here now and it’s going to be just the way Nate planned. He looks at him - Brad licks his lips, waiting, and Nate can tell that he wants this just as much as Nate.

“Nate,” Brad starts, but Nate just shushes him. He takes a small step forward, helping Brad take off his t-shirt. He trails his fingers over Brad’s chest and collarbones, smiling, and before he realizes, his fingers are laced with Brad’s, deep flush covering his face.

“Pants, they need to go,” Nate murmurs, closing his eyes.

“Someone got bossy while I was away,” Brad teases, undressing slowly. Nate steps back to watch the expanse of Brad's tan skin.

He huffs in irritation when Brad leaves his briefs on.

“Brad,” he says, and it sounds a little like a warning. He's surprised that Brad has the energy to play, to tease him, because his own want is so overwhelming that he can barely think straight.

“T-shirt,” Brad says, rolling his eyes, and Nate realizes that he's still fully dressed. He quickly steps out of his sweatpants and takes off his t-shirt. Brad then closes the distance between them, clinging to Nate, touching his stomach and chest and face, like he wants to know that Nate isn't a hallucination. He pushes his hand inside Nate's boxers, but Nate slaps his hand away. Nate kisses Brad, licking at the corner of his mouth and sucking his neck. He shoves Brad onto the bed and climbs on top of him, licking his inner thighs with the tip of his tongue. Brad lets out a shaky laugh and inhales deeply, forcing Nate to kiss him. He lifts his hips when Nate starts taking off his briefs and helps to do the same with Nate's boxers.

Brad's hip jerk when Nate kind of off-hand pushes a slick finger inside him. They're lying in a weird position, Nate on top of Brad, with their legs tangled and Nate's finger up Brad's ass. Nate pulls it out and tries to untangle himself from the sheets and Brad's legs closed around him, pressing his hard cock next to Brad's. When he succeeds, he reaches to the nightstand’s drawer for lube and condoms.

Brad grips Nate's waist with both of his hands and pushes him lightly, but just as much as it takes for Nate to lie on top of him, chest to chest. Nate exhales, surprised, and kisses Brad, moaning as their erections rub together. Brad grips Nate's ass, pressing him to his body, and Nate for a moment feels like he's drowning, but in a pleasant way. There are spots of colorful lights around him and everything is blurry, his heart is pounding in his chest and he starts to think that he wants to stay here forever, with Brad groaning beside him.

“Hurry up if you want to fuck me,” Brad whispers in his ear, and Nate can almost see his smug smile.

“You are the one gripping my ass,” Nate moans, and Brad obediently lets go. Nate lifts himself and lies down between Brad's legs, licking the side of Brad's hard cock, watching his face. Brad closes his eyes and arches his spine, but Nate doesn't take him in, backing off so they are not touching anymore. Brad complains loudly and opens his eyes, watching Nate.

“Nate, please,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

Nate doesn't answer. He just squeezes the lube out of the bottle and pushes his index finger into Brad. He feels under his finger as Brad inhales, his whole body moving up a little. Nate waits for Brad to exhale and pushes his finger inside. It doesn't take much time for Brad to beg for more and leave both of them right on the edge, despite how little they actually touch.

“If you're not going to fuck me anytime soon, I'm going to flip you over and you'll be the one getting fucked,” Brad says with a long pause after each word and even before Nate's brain can process what he said, Nate pulls his fingers out, rolls a condom on his cock and starts to push inside Brad.

They don't last long, rocking together rhythmically, and Nate comes with fireworks behind his eyelids, collapsing on top of Brad, panting.

They don't even clean themselves up, Nate just takes off the condom and goes to sleep, plastered to Brad's chest.

*

Nate's cell phone rings when they're lying in the bed, making out and laughing between the kisses.

“Leave it,” Brad says, trying to stop Nate from answering.

“It's Pauline, I can't. It might be important,” Nate says and pushes the green button. “Fick.”

“Hi, Nate!”

“Tell your sister I hate her,” Brad says, getting up to find his briefs on the floor.

“Tell Brad I heard that,” Pauline says and Nate has to focus on her voice rather than on admiring gloriously naked Brad.

“You two want to talk?” Nate asks. “What's up, little sister?”

“Judging from the fact that Brad’s there with you, I doubt you watched the morning news, right?”

“Is something wrong?” Nate asks, suddenly serious, and Brad turns around to look at him.

“Everything is great, Nate. They repealed DADT,” she says, and Nate wonders if it's April Fools' Day.

“What?”

“Go check the news,” she says before hanging up. Nate stares at his cellphone in disbelief.

“What happened, Nate?” Brad asks, and Nate hears the worry in his voice.

“Wait,” Nate says, flipping through the news on his cellphone. He finds what he's been looking for and hands Brad the phone. Nate grins like a lunatic and he's well aware of it, but his smile widens even more when Brad starts smiling, too.

Brad drops the phone on the bed and cups Nate's face with his hands, kissing his smile away.

“I'm not going to hold your hand on the fucking street, Fick,” he whispers.

Nate knows it's the closest to 'I love you' he will get.

He's wrong.

“I love you, Nate,” Brad whispers, kissing Nate's nose and pressing his forehead to Nate's.

“I love you, too, Brad,” Nate says and drags him into the bed.

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May 2012

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