His hair falls wet and dark into his eyes and he opens them suddenly and says, “Are you just going to stand there?”
“You’re a very strange man, LT,” Brad replies.
The LT grins at him and plunges a hand into the spray, directing the water off his palm right at Brad. Brad shouts at the sudden icy spray hitting him right in the face.
He wipes his face off slowly and says, “You’re going to pay for that one.”
The LT laughs and replies, “Bring it.” He takes off as Brad starts to chase him and they run circles around the backyard, forcing Brad to leap through sprinklers just to follow, but then the LT slips on the sodden grass and Brad is upon him. He’s laughing as Brad gets him in a sleeper hold.
“You win, you win,” he cries, choked up with mirth and Brad lets him go. He falls back into the wet grass, breathing hard as the sprinklers arc over him.
The LT tugs at his t-shirt and it comes away from his skin with a sucking smack. “Much better,” the LT says and slumps back beside him. He’s still flushed under his tan, but he looks far less mournful.
“I’m surprised they let a deranged over-grown child lead men into battle, sir.”
The LT makes a sound and doesn’t answer for a long moment. When he does, he says, “You know I’m not a lieutenant anymore.”
“I’m sorry, Captain,” Brad replies, sardonic twist to his mouth.
The LT flicks water into his eyes. “No, I mean, I’m a civilian now…”He’s staring at Brad with a strange light in his eyes.
Brad swallows. “Are you directing me to ask you a question, sir—Nate?”
“Yes,” Nate says, leaning in.
“Are you—”
“No, the answer is yes,” Nate interrupts and bends down over him to catch his mouth in a kiss. It’s a wet, tentative press, flavored by sprinkler water, and Brad tolerates it for a second before dragging Nate down on top of him. Their mouths part and Nate breathes hard. Brad feels those breaths through his entire body.
He looks up at Nate’s face almost in awe and runs his fingers through his hair. It’s grown a fair bit since Godfather was forcing them to cut their hair every day in Iraq. Nate’s eyes slide shut and Brad leans up and brings their mouths back together again. This is not how he imagined it. He never thought in a million years that there would be room for tenderness between them, but Nate’s mouth is gentle on his. His tongue swipes over Brad’s lower lip and when Brad moans he does it again and again.
Suddenly Nate jerks himself away. “The game!” he cries and scrambles to his feet.
“Seriously?” Brad replies, still sprawled out in the grass.
Nate looks down at him and smirks. “If the Orioles win, I’ll blow you.”
Brad breathes deep. “Oh, right. The game. That I find myself suddenly caring about.”
Brad/Nate, It's Too Hot and Sticky To Move, Part 2
“You’re a very strange man, LT,” Brad replies.
The LT grins at him and plunges a hand into the spray, directing the water off his palm right at Brad. Brad shouts at the sudden icy spray hitting him right in the face.
He wipes his face off slowly and says, “You’re going to pay for that one.”
The LT laughs and replies, “Bring it.” He takes off as Brad starts to chase him and they run circles around the backyard, forcing Brad to leap through sprinklers just to follow, but then the LT slips on the sodden grass and Brad is upon him. He’s laughing as Brad gets him in a sleeper hold.
“You win, you win,” he cries, choked up with mirth and Brad lets him go. He falls back into the wet grass, breathing hard as the sprinklers arc over him.
The LT tugs at his t-shirt and it comes away from his skin with a sucking smack. “Much better,” the LT says and slumps back beside him. He’s still flushed under his tan, but he looks far less mournful.
“I’m surprised they let a deranged over-grown child lead men into battle, sir.”
The LT makes a sound and doesn’t answer for a long moment. When he does, he says, “You know I’m not a lieutenant anymore.”
“I’m sorry, Captain,” Brad replies, sardonic twist to his mouth.
The LT flicks water into his eyes. “No, I mean, I’m a civilian now…”He’s staring at Brad with a strange light in his eyes.
Brad swallows. “Are you directing me to ask you a question, sir—Nate?”
“Yes,” Nate says, leaning in.
“Are you—”
“No, the answer is yes,” Nate interrupts and bends down over him to catch his mouth in a kiss. It’s a wet, tentative press, flavored by sprinkler water, and Brad tolerates it for a second before dragging Nate down on top of him. Their mouths part and Nate breathes hard. Brad feels those breaths through his entire body.
He looks up at Nate’s face almost in awe and runs his fingers through his hair. It’s grown a fair bit since Godfather was forcing them to cut their hair every day in Iraq. Nate’s eyes slide shut and Brad leans up and brings their mouths back together again. This is not how he imagined it. He never thought in a million years that there would be room for tenderness between them, but Nate’s mouth is gentle on his. His tongue swipes over Brad’s lower lip and when Brad moans he does it again and again.
Suddenly Nate jerks himself away. “The game!” he cries and scrambles to his feet.
“Seriously?” Brad replies, still sprawled out in the grass.
Nate looks down at him and smirks. “If the Orioles win, I’ll blow you.”
Brad breathes deep. “Oh, right. The game. That I find myself suddenly caring about.”