L'Homme Nate – A GK AU in 1057 words.
Aug. 5th, 2009 03:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hackthis_archive1. Is anybody else so excited to see Bryce Larkin Matt Bomer in White Collar that they're about to pass out?
2. I'm cluttering up L's LJ with Southland filth. She is being very tolerant,
This is an off-the-cuff ficlet for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shoshannagold. I'd tried to write you fisting, per L's suggestion, but that just didn't work out at ALL. Some places I just can't go. This is also for Nate, who is having one hell of a rough patch. I still love you, baby, even if you are currently being used ill.
Generation Kill
Alternate Universe
Nate, Brad
Nathaniel Fick is not a happy man. He's had what could only be called "a bad week".
For a start, he's supposed to be dead by an assassin's hand.
And the day before somebody put a bullet three centimeters from his head and blew up his car, his boyfriend announced that he was tired of being a secret and leaving Nate for his best friend. Who happens to be a girl.
The day before that Nate got recalled into active duty in the USMC, but since Nate's now presumed dead he guesses that that last part doesn't really count anymore.
What does count is that Nate's been in the same clothes for two days, because the lease was in Scott's name and he doesn't want to go home until he figures out why people are trying to kill him.
He's tired, hungry and very angry. And now, instead of finding out who tried to kill him and getting his man back, he's sitting on a bench in Central Park being offered a career change and cigarettes by some GQ model in a suit that probably costs more than Nate made in the last six months combined.
Nate casts a glance out the corner of his eye at the Viking sitting next to him and takes one of the proffered cigarettes. He doesn't smoke, but he lights up and takes a deep inhale anyway.
Apparently smoking kills your appetite and that's exactly what Nate needs right now. No, actually, what Nate needs is a shower, a steak and to borrow a sniper rifle from his friend Pappy and off that bitch. But. First things first.
"You don't smoke," the man says his lips turning up at the left corner. "And yet you took that. I don’t tend to like surprises, but..."
"But what?" Nate prompts the way he knows he's supposed to. He's not the slightest bit interested in this conversation, but somebody tried to kill him and Scott left him for Jenna; he's not thinking very clearly.
"But I find you amusing," the man says simply.
Nate snorts, the smoke escaping his nose in little white wisps. "Obviously my goal in life is to amuse you."
"It could be."
Nate studies the man in profile. He's not unattractive, if you think Michelangelo's David is the idea of perfection.
Nate inhales and feels the burn in his lungs. "As far as I can tell I'm supposed to be dead, so I don’t think a few cigarettes matter now, do you?"
"I don't know about that," the man says thoughtfully. "Being dead isn't necessarily a bad career choice. Think of all the things you can do now that you couldn't do before."
Nate rubs at the stubble dotting his chin. "Like what?"
A smile crosses the man's face. His teeth are too white. He reminds Nate of a shark. "Well, you could fuck me for a start," he says.
Nate pauses with the cigarette halfway to his mouth. "I don't fuck anyone until they buy me dinner. Fast food doesn't count."
"Loose morals, Mr. Fick," the man says approvingly, "are the hallmark of a good assassin."
"What exactly makes you think I have any interest in what you're offering me, Mister –?"
"Colbert. But you can call me Brad."
Nate ashes the cigarette on the bench and looks around. There are kids playing, joggers bouncing by, people walking dogs and living their lives. "I'm not sure I want to be on a first name basis with somebody who wants me to kill people for a living."
Colbert -- Brad -- smirks. "What exactly do you think you've been doing for your country all along?"
"That's different," Nate says irritably.
Brad turns a little and rests his arm on the back of the bench, his fingers coming to a stop 1/3 of an inch from Nate' shoulder. "You're right," he says. "We pay better."
"I'm not interested in money." Nate takes another inhale of the cigarette, his head swimming from nicotine and rat poison and probably crack considering how relaxed he feels right now. "I'm interested in finding out who tried to kill me."
Brad's eyes crinkle at the corners. "You're looking at him," he says blithely.
The cigarette falls from Nate's hand, bouncing off the bench and rolling into the grass. "You? Why?"
When Brad shrugs it pulls his suit jacket tight across his shoulders and opens the 'V' of his unbuttoned Oxford. "I wanted your attention."
"And you didn't think a meeting in the park would've sufficed?" Nate can feel the anger curling his fingers into fists.
"I'm sorry I didn't have time to court you properly," Brad mocks, "but the Corps screwed up my time table. I wanted you and so did they. I had to make I sure won."
"By nearly blowing my head off and destroying my car," Nate grits out. Every fiber in his being is screaming to either choke Brad Colbert to death or run until he hits the Atlantic Ocean and never turn back.
Brad leans in a little bit, his eyes are blue like the sky in June and Nate has to force himself not to lean in as well. "I did that job personally to make sure you didn’t get hurt," Brad says softly. "I want you on my team -- not dead in the city morgue."
"What if I don't want to be on your team?" Nate persists.
"That is not an option I'm afraid," Brad says. "If you come with me willingly you get a shower, dinner, a roof over your head, the best training even the US government can't afford and enough money to retire in five years if you're still alive then. Which I plan to ensure personally. Plus, if you ask nicely, I might even suck your cock."
Nate swallows. He could swear he was leaning back and not close enough to see the faded scars on Brad's forehead. The lines at the corners of his eyes. "And if I say no?"
Brad's too close now. When Nate licks his lips his tongue almost brushes against Brad's mouth. When Brad blinks, Nate can count his eyelashes.
"You don’t want to say no to me, Nate," Brad says. "Do you?"
Nate swallows.
Brad reaches out, rubs Nate's mouth with his thumb. "Yeah, I didn't think so."
-end-
So. This is forshoshannagold, because, well it is.
It is also forsparky77, who has been begging me for assassin!Nate for months. Where the hell is my sex pollen fic?
2. I'm cluttering up L's LJ with Southland filth. She is being very tolerant,
This is an off-the-cuff ficlet for
shoshannagold. I'd tried to write you fisting, per L's suggestion, but that just didn't work out at ALL. Some places I just can't go. This is also for Nate, who is having one hell of a rough patch. I still love you, baby, even if you are currently being used ill.Generation Kill
Alternate Universe
Nate, Brad
Nathaniel Fick is not a happy man. He's had what could only be called "a bad week".
For a start, he's supposed to be dead by an assassin's hand.
And the day before somebody put a bullet three centimeters from his head and blew up his car, his boyfriend announced that he was tired of being a secret and leaving Nate for his best friend. Who happens to be a girl.
The day before that Nate got recalled into active duty in the USMC, but since Nate's now presumed dead he guesses that that last part doesn't really count anymore.
What does count is that Nate's been in the same clothes for two days, because the lease was in Scott's name and he doesn't want to go home until he figures out why people are trying to kill him.
He's tired, hungry and very angry. And now, instead of finding out who tried to kill him and getting his man back, he's sitting on a bench in Central Park being offered a career change and cigarettes by some GQ model in a suit that probably costs more than Nate made in the last six months combined.
Nate casts a glance out the corner of his eye at the Viking sitting next to him and takes one of the proffered cigarettes. He doesn't smoke, but he lights up and takes a deep inhale anyway.
Apparently smoking kills your appetite and that's exactly what Nate needs right now. No, actually, what Nate needs is a shower, a steak and to borrow a sniper rifle from his friend Pappy and off that bitch. But. First things first.
"You don't smoke," the man says his lips turning up at the left corner. "And yet you took that. I don’t tend to like surprises, but..."
"But what?" Nate prompts the way he knows he's supposed to. He's not the slightest bit interested in this conversation, but somebody tried to kill him and Scott left him for Jenna; he's not thinking very clearly.
"But I find you amusing," the man says simply.
Nate snorts, the smoke escaping his nose in little white wisps. "Obviously my goal in life is to amuse you."
"It could be."
Nate studies the man in profile. He's not unattractive, if you think Michelangelo's David is the idea of perfection.
Nate inhales and feels the burn in his lungs. "As far as I can tell I'm supposed to be dead, so I don’t think a few cigarettes matter now, do you?"
"I don't know about that," the man says thoughtfully. "Being dead isn't necessarily a bad career choice. Think of all the things you can do now that you couldn't do before."
Nate rubs at the stubble dotting his chin. "Like what?"
A smile crosses the man's face. His teeth are too white. He reminds Nate of a shark. "Well, you could fuck me for a start," he says.
Nate pauses with the cigarette halfway to his mouth. "I don't fuck anyone until they buy me dinner. Fast food doesn't count."
"Loose morals, Mr. Fick," the man says approvingly, "are the hallmark of a good assassin."
"What exactly makes you think I have any interest in what you're offering me, Mister –?"
"Colbert. But you can call me Brad."
Nate ashes the cigarette on the bench and looks around. There are kids playing, joggers bouncing by, people walking dogs and living their lives. "I'm not sure I want to be on a first name basis with somebody who wants me to kill people for a living."
Colbert -- Brad -- smirks. "What exactly do you think you've been doing for your country all along?"
"That's different," Nate says irritably.
Brad turns a little and rests his arm on the back of the bench, his fingers coming to a stop 1/3 of an inch from Nate' shoulder. "You're right," he says. "We pay better."
"I'm not interested in money." Nate takes another inhale of the cigarette, his head swimming from nicotine and rat poison and probably crack considering how relaxed he feels right now. "I'm interested in finding out who tried to kill me."
Brad's eyes crinkle at the corners. "You're looking at him," he says blithely.
The cigarette falls from Nate's hand, bouncing off the bench and rolling into the grass. "You? Why?"
When Brad shrugs it pulls his suit jacket tight across his shoulders and opens the 'V' of his unbuttoned Oxford. "I wanted your attention."
"And you didn't think a meeting in the park would've sufficed?" Nate can feel the anger curling his fingers into fists.
"I'm sorry I didn't have time to court you properly," Brad mocks, "but the Corps screwed up my time table. I wanted you and so did they. I had to make I sure won."
"By nearly blowing my head off and destroying my car," Nate grits out. Every fiber in his being is screaming to either choke Brad Colbert to death or run until he hits the Atlantic Ocean and never turn back.
Brad leans in a little bit, his eyes are blue like the sky in June and Nate has to force himself not to lean in as well. "I did that job personally to make sure you didn’t get hurt," Brad says softly. "I want you on my team -- not dead in the city morgue."
"What if I don't want to be on your team?" Nate persists.
"That is not an option I'm afraid," Brad says. "If you come with me willingly you get a shower, dinner, a roof over your head, the best training even the US government can't afford and enough money to retire in five years if you're still alive then. Which I plan to ensure personally. Plus, if you ask nicely, I might even suck your cock."
Nate swallows. He could swear he was leaning back and not close enough to see the faded scars on Brad's forehead. The lines at the corners of his eyes. "And if I say no?"
Brad's too close now. When Nate licks his lips his tongue almost brushes against Brad's mouth. When Brad blinks, Nate can count his eyelashes.
"You don’t want to say no to me, Nate," Brad says. "Do you?"
Nate swallows.
Brad reaches out, rubs Nate's mouth with his thumb. "Yeah, I didn't think so."
-end-
So. This is for
shoshannagold, because, well it is. It is also for
sparky77, who has been begging me for assassin!Nate for months. Where the hell is my sex pollen fic?
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-08-08 11:10 pm (UTC)It's possible that in the hazy future somewhere down the line that there might be more of this. Like a lot more. You know Brad has this gorgeous, three quarters length black wool coat that he wears that Nate develops this affinity for that needs to be discussed. And there's like other stuff in my head about this. Nice clothes. Guns. Shiny things. You know how I am.
no subject
Date: 2009-08-09 09:32 pm (UTC)(now i'm imagining Brad taking Nate shopping for proper hitman attire and it is lolarious)
no subject
Date: 2009-08-09 10:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-10 03:39 am (UTC)I can't decide what I love more: Brad as a bad ass cook or Nate lounging around in a skimpy man-skirt.
Did you know they made bulletproof clothes out of something called aramid?
Haha, I think I remember A posting about this! Real life 007 stuff excites me, especially since now you can put Brad in a hotass tux and it won't be gratuitous at all!
no subject
Date: 2009-08-10 03:57 am (UTC)There are *plans* Like Nate at the shooting range and Brad giving him personal lessons where he's always touching him, adjusting his stance, kicking his legs apart, turning his hips, because Nate is a good shooter, the Marines made him that way. But assassins are on a completely different level. Or like that time Brad locks (which naturally I mistyped at licked) him in a windowless room blind folded with three guns which he has to assemble and then fire off to show that he's done. Oh and make sure that he doesn't like shoot himself or anything. Nate kind of has a meltdown at some point and gets locked in isolation. Of course in this verse he also curses copiously, dresses like sex, is very bitchy and ignores Brad's flirting pretty much all the time. I love you, Assassin!Nate. And also there is protective!Brad.
no subject
Date: 2009-08-10 12:13 pm (UTC)Lawdy, you TEASE, i'm getting all hot 'n' bothered already! I approve of Brad's training/torture methods. And please tell me archery is somewhere in the curriculum, haha. Brad would love the extra hands-on approach required to teach that one.
no subject
Date: 2009-08-10 03:30 pm (UTC)Yes, of course, you know how I roll. ::snicker::
I can't believe you brought up archery! Get out of my head! I was totally thinking about that the other day, b/c I love archery and then I was like, dude, when the hell is Brad going to send Nate out with a bow and arrow? This isn't the Crusades!, and my head was all WHO CARES! Brad and Nate in some training facility in Maryland, out in the open fields, Brad standing there, hands on Nate's hips, breathing in his ear, telling him when to fire, and Nate being all, "is this supposed to distract me?" right before he hits a bullseye, and then he turns to Brad, who's kind of irritated that he didn't faze Nate at all, and Nate looks him up and down and is all "you're going to have to work harder than that" he says, very obvioiusly looking at Brad's dick, and Brad's you know dressed, very nicely, with a huge erection spoiling the line of his clothes. And Nate's all, "you need to do something about that though." And Brad's all 'are you offering?' and Nate's like 'no' I'm working, go away.'
And Brad's sullen, but he only has himself to blame, because he is making Nate this way. And then the first time Nate goes on assignment, Brad's all up in everybody's grill, and Nate's in her ear (I'm all about the ear comms that the secret service uses) and Nate's all 'the bitching is sweet, but you're scaring the minions, knock it off'' and Brad goes and locks himself in his office, so he can talk Nate through his job and he's all "Ray, if you listen in, I will chop off your dick and Walt will never forgive me' (Yes, Brad has Ray, Walt, Poke and Eric Kocher on his team).
The thing I love about Nate's first assignment is that Brad's been training him to be this stone cold assassin, even though Brad is totally over posessive and tends to be very upset when Nate won't talk to him (this is part of how Nate ends up in the isolation room. Actually, no, that happens b/c he punches Brad in the face) -- OMG, I'm totally giving the whole thing away and then you won't be surprised and draw me art! Oh, did I say that outloud? This may never happen though. I won't have a chance to work on it until October.
no subject
Date: 2009-08-10 11:13 pm (UTC)Hahahahah!! Cocktease!Nate I love you so ♥ ♥ ♥
"Ray, if you listen in, I will chop off your dick and Walt will never forgive me' (Yes, Brad has Ray, Walt, Poke and Eric Kocher on his team).
Most effective way to shut up Ray ever! And yay team love!
This may never happen though. I won't have a chance to work on it until October.
Oh, patience ain't no thing bb. ;) I can wait - like Brad
preying onwaiting for Nate to come around. And I know you can do this without my bribery because you're awesome and brilliant and capable like that. (but hey, if the art muse is inspired who am I to stop it? *g*)no subject
Date: 2009-08-10 11:17 pm (UTC)Actually, I remembered that you'd had a drawing with Brad kissing Nate while shooting at something and I went looking for it, you know, for inspiration like, but I cannot find it anywhere. Did you hide it somewhere?
no subject
Date: 2009-08-10 11:27 pm (UTC)Done! (http://trolleys.fanizzle.org/zombiekiss.jpg) (the more I draw B/N the more they start to resemble castoff manga characters...)
no subject
Date: 2009-08-10 11:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-11 12:01 am (UTC)And I second the love for bitchy, hardass, slutty Nate ♥
no subject
Date: 2009-08-11 12:02 am (UTC)