Generation Kill; Colbert/Fick
19 October 2008 06:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wrennetteTitle: Paradise Gained
Pairing: Sgt. Brad Colbert x Lt. Nathaniel Fick
Fandom: Generation Kill
Rating: R
Disclaimer: No slander, libel, or copyright infringement is intended in the writing of this fic. Neither the characters from the book and mini-series nor the real people they are based on belong to me.
Summary: Nate and Brad have a little fun after a long day on the road.
Notes: Part three after Eden Lost, the last night in iraq fic I wrote, and Road/Sky.
He told the sleepy attendant at the front desk his name was Evan Wright, and told him to keep the change out of the two c-notes he laid out for the ninety eight dollar room. The attendant nodded, studiously didn't look up. Brad grinned to himself, glanced back over his shoulder at Nate. He had to call him Nate. The officer was half asleep, slumped against the wall, Brad's old jacket hanging loosely from his shoulders. Brad smirked slightly, then lifted the key card silently in the air. Nate blinked sleepily, a slow smile forming on those candy-pink lips as he pushed off from the wall and sauntered over to Brad, all unconscious loose limbed grace.
Brad eased his arm around Nate's trim waist, not sure exactly where they were going or how far, or even who was driving, but for once not really caring. Nate nuzzled against his shoulder, leaning in far enough that his breath warmed the side of Brad's neck. It was funny, Brad thought, how a little bit of heat could make him shiver bone deep.
"Come on," he said huskily, pulling Nate even closer as they walked, and Nate stumbled against him a little, chuckled softly and leaned up that last half inch. The press of Nate's dry, lightly chapped lips against his pulse point shouldn't have been so hot. It really shouldn't have been. But it was, and he couldn't quite stop himself from growling softly with possessive want.
Stopping short, Brad glanced both ways down the corridor. There wasn't anyone in sight, and so he shifted them both, pinned Nate roughly to the wall and kissed him for the first time. Nate opened to him without hesitation, mewled softly in satisfaction. Brad pulled away panting, staring at Nate, watching his heavy lidded eyes slowly flutter open.
"Yes," Nate said simply, soft but sure, and Brad grinned, because he hadn't even had to ask, hadn't even finished forming the question in his mind, let alone with his mouth. He kissed Nate again in reply, hotter this time, wetter, more insistent, and Nate kissed back just as eagerly, doing things with his mouth and tongue that Brad would never have imagined a sweet little Ivy League boy would know how to.
"We should," Nate breathed when they parted, ever practical, ever tactical, and Brad nodded, but didn't obey, because he was too busy leaning in to nuzzle along the line of Nate's jaw and suck on his earlobe. Nate's head connected solidly with the wall, and he groaned softly, hands sliding into Brad's back pockets to cup his ass and urge him closer.
"We should," Brad agreed gruffly, not moving except to grind his rapidly hardening cock against Nate's hips. Nate hissed softly in pleasure, arching his neck and closing his eyes. "Fuck," Brad breathed against Nate's skin, pulling away before he could press his mouth against Nate, because he had this feeling like if he started, he wouldn't be able to stop. Nate slumped back against the wall, panting and glassy eyed.
"Yeah," Nate agreed, and Brad grabbed his hand, pulled him roughly upright. He didn't let go of Nate's hand either, just forged ahead, leading Nate by the hand. Nate didn't complain, followed willingly, their feet thudding dully against the industrial carpeting. Once inside the room, Brad had his arms full of Nate, pressed against him and murmuring so soft Brad couldn't make sense of it, but it didn't matter, because the inaudible words were punctuated with soft sharp kisses against his face and neck. Brad leaned back against the door, more than content to let Nate do whatever he damn well pleased so long as it involved his pretty mouth.
When Nate's hands slid up under his shirt, Brad figured he should do something, should let Nate know how fucking good and right and perfect this was. So he pulled Nate's face to his, pushed his tongue into Nate's mouth and tried to literally kiss him breathless. Nate was a Recon Marine. But Brad was the Iceman, and he could hold his breath longer, could chase Nate's tongue with his until Nate was desperate for oxygen, pulling away gasping and panting.
"Yes," Nate hissed, and Brad lifted the officer, bracing his arms under Nate's ass, and Nate's legs gripped his waist as tightly as they'd gripped the saddle of the bike earlier. Getting horizontal was almost too much effort, too much time wasted, and so Brad just turned, slammed Nate roughly to the wall next to the door. Nate's legs loosened slightly around Brad's waist, and then they were both on the floor, Nate grunting softly as his tailbone crashed against the hard surface as Brad went to his knees. Brad quickly had Nate forgetting any momentary flash of pain, trying to crawl up into his skin with hands and mouth and tongue.
"Brad," Nate gasped as one of his nipples was palmed through his thin tee, and Brad smirked wickedly, then repeated the motion. "Brad," Nate said more strongly, voice thick with want and warning. Brad nodded, kissing Nate almost apologetically, then dropping a single kiss against the fabric covering his stomach before undoing his jeans.
Nate groaned deeply, head again impacting the wall as Brad began to suck and lick at his cock. Brad worked at his own pace, ignoring the gasps and groans coming from Nate, ignoring Nate's hands as they scrabbled over his scalp and neck and shoulders. Finally Nate's patience ran out though. He might be an officer, but Nate was still a Recon Marine. He pulled Brad up to kneeling, kissed him deep and hard and nasty, then pulled away, hard eyed and panting raggedly.
"Stop," Nate bit out, soft and sharp, and Brad smirked, but dipped his head in acquiescence, then leaned back down to shove Nate's jeans down a little further and properly suck his cock. Once Brad got to work, Nate didn't last long. He came with a soft, drawn out whimper, teeth sinking into one fist, the other hand clasped tightly around the nape of Brad's neck.
Brad hauled them both to their feet, dragged them both to the bed. They shimmied and squirmed out of their clothes, and then Brad was pressing all along Nate, letting the officer feel how hot and hard he was. Nate let out a loud exhalation, reaching back to clasp Brad's hip, press Brad's body against his. Brad's rhythm stuttered for a moment as he wrapped his mind fully around the implications, but then he was driving his cock against Nate's ass, precum slicking over sweat damp skin. After a long day of the engine block vibrating between his legs and Nate pressed firmly against his back, Brad didn't last long. He came with a choked cry, splattering his seed over Nate's hip.
"Tomorrow," he promised, and Nate chuckled and shifted in his arms, kissed Brad slow and sweet.
"Anytime," Nate said, and it was a promise. Brad grinned, and they slept, one day closer to paradise.
Pairing: Sgt. Brad Colbert x Lt. Nathaniel Fick
Fandom: Generation Kill
Rating: R
Disclaimer: No slander, libel, or copyright infringement is intended in the writing of this fic. Neither the characters from the book and mini-series nor the real people they are based on belong to me.
Summary: Nate and Brad have a little fun after a long day on the road.
Notes: Part three after Eden Lost, the last night in iraq fic I wrote, and Road/Sky.
He told the sleepy attendant at the front desk his name was Evan Wright, and told him to keep the change out of the two c-notes he laid out for the ninety eight dollar room. The attendant nodded, studiously didn't look up. Brad grinned to himself, glanced back over his shoulder at Nate. He had to call him Nate. The officer was half asleep, slumped against the wall, Brad's old jacket hanging loosely from his shoulders. Brad smirked slightly, then lifted the key card silently in the air. Nate blinked sleepily, a slow smile forming on those candy-pink lips as he pushed off from the wall and sauntered over to Brad, all unconscious loose limbed grace.
Brad eased his arm around Nate's trim waist, not sure exactly where they were going or how far, or even who was driving, but for once not really caring. Nate nuzzled against his shoulder, leaning in far enough that his breath warmed the side of Brad's neck. It was funny, Brad thought, how a little bit of heat could make him shiver bone deep.
"Come on," he said huskily, pulling Nate even closer as they walked, and Nate stumbled against him a little, chuckled softly and leaned up that last half inch. The press of Nate's dry, lightly chapped lips against his pulse point shouldn't have been so hot. It really shouldn't have been. But it was, and he couldn't quite stop himself from growling softly with possessive want.
Stopping short, Brad glanced both ways down the corridor. There wasn't anyone in sight, and so he shifted them both, pinned Nate roughly to the wall and kissed him for the first time. Nate opened to him without hesitation, mewled softly in satisfaction. Brad pulled away panting, staring at Nate, watching his heavy lidded eyes slowly flutter open.
"Yes," Nate said simply, soft but sure, and Brad grinned, because he hadn't even had to ask, hadn't even finished forming the question in his mind, let alone with his mouth. He kissed Nate again in reply, hotter this time, wetter, more insistent, and Nate kissed back just as eagerly, doing things with his mouth and tongue that Brad would never have imagined a sweet little Ivy League boy would know how to.
"We should," Nate breathed when they parted, ever practical, ever tactical, and Brad nodded, but didn't obey, because he was too busy leaning in to nuzzle along the line of Nate's jaw and suck on his earlobe. Nate's head connected solidly with the wall, and he groaned softly, hands sliding into Brad's back pockets to cup his ass and urge him closer.
"We should," Brad agreed gruffly, not moving except to grind his rapidly hardening cock against Nate's hips. Nate hissed softly in pleasure, arching his neck and closing his eyes. "Fuck," Brad breathed against Nate's skin, pulling away before he could press his mouth against Nate, because he had this feeling like if he started, he wouldn't be able to stop. Nate slumped back against the wall, panting and glassy eyed.
"Yeah," Nate agreed, and Brad grabbed his hand, pulled him roughly upright. He didn't let go of Nate's hand either, just forged ahead, leading Nate by the hand. Nate didn't complain, followed willingly, their feet thudding dully against the industrial carpeting. Once inside the room, Brad had his arms full of Nate, pressed against him and murmuring so soft Brad couldn't make sense of it, but it didn't matter, because the inaudible words were punctuated with soft sharp kisses against his face and neck. Brad leaned back against the door, more than content to let Nate do whatever he damn well pleased so long as it involved his pretty mouth.
When Nate's hands slid up under his shirt, Brad figured he should do something, should let Nate know how fucking good and right and perfect this was. So he pulled Nate's face to his, pushed his tongue into Nate's mouth and tried to literally kiss him breathless. Nate was a Recon Marine. But Brad was the Iceman, and he could hold his breath longer, could chase Nate's tongue with his until Nate was desperate for oxygen, pulling away gasping and panting.
"Yes," Nate hissed, and Brad lifted the officer, bracing his arms under Nate's ass, and Nate's legs gripped his waist as tightly as they'd gripped the saddle of the bike earlier. Getting horizontal was almost too much effort, too much time wasted, and so Brad just turned, slammed Nate roughly to the wall next to the door. Nate's legs loosened slightly around Brad's waist, and then they were both on the floor, Nate grunting softly as his tailbone crashed against the hard surface as Brad went to his knees. Brad quickly had Nate forgetting any momentary flash of pain, trying to crawl up into his skin with hands and mouth and tongue.
"Brad," Nate gasped as one of his nipples was palmed through his thin tee, and Brad smirked wickedly, then repeated the motion. "Brad," Nate said more strongly, voice thick with want and warning. Brad nodded, kissing Nate almost apologetically, then dropping a single kiss against the fabric covering his stomach before undoing his jeans.
Nate groaned deeply, head again impacting the wall as Brad began to suck and lick at his cock. Brad worked at his own pace, ignoring the gasps and groans coming from Nate, ignoring Nate's hands as they scrabbled over his scalp and neck and shoulders. Finally Nate's patience ran out though. He might be an officer, but Nate was still a Recon Marine. He pulled Brad up to kneeling, kissed him deep and hard and nasty, then pulled away, hard eyed and panting raggedly.
"Stop," Nate bit out, soft and sharp, and Brad smirked, but dipped his head in acquiescence, then leaned back down to shove Nate's jeans down a little further and properly suck his cock. Once Brad got to work, Nate didn't last long. He came with a soft, drawn out whimper, teeth sinking into one fist, the other hand clasped tightly around the nape of Brad's neck.
Brad hauled them both to their feet, dragged them both to the bed. They shimmied and squirmed out of their clothes, and then Brad was pressing all along Nate, letting the officer feel how hot and hard he was. Nate let out a loud exhalation, reaching back to clasp Brad's hip, press Brad's body against his. Brad's rhythm stuttered for a moment as he wrapped his mind fully around the implications, but then he was driving his cock against Nate's ass, precum slicking over sweat damp skin. After a long day of the engine block vibrating between his legs and Nate pressed firmly against his back, Brad didn't last long. He came with a choked cry, splattering his seed over Nate's hip.
"Tomorrow," he promised, and Nate chuckled and shifted in his arms, kissed Brad slow and sweet.
"Anytime," Nate said, and it was a promise. Brad grinned, and they slept, one day closer to paradise.
