War, Southland and comment-fic, oh my!

[hackthis_archive]

It's interesting that the plague showing up in China and the Birthers bullshit only kind of makes me nervous, but tomricks interrupting his vacation to blog about shit falling apart in Iraq makes me want to crawl under my desk and kiss my ass goodbye.

Also, this article about a personal trainer who put on 88 lbs. just so he could lose it and see what it's like for his clients is pretty compelling. I think this is going to make him a much stronger trainer.

I feel like I'm saying this every time I post (and I probably am, too bad!), BUT, for those stragglers who aren't on the train yet. NBC is re-airing Southland right now in the run up to the premiere (Sept 25th) on Friday nights at 8pm. You can also watch it on NBC.com and on Hulu. They have the first four episodes up (there are only seven), so please, please please, watch it. You won't regret it. Really.

In other Southland news: Michael and Ben start filming tomorrow. If I was any more excited I'd bounce out of my chair. Oh, wait, and L is writing me comment!porn featuring slutty!Ben. You all wish you had an L, but she is mine. Okay, jointly shared with Q and A. And her family. And all of you, but you know what I mean.

Offer Redux!: Oh, and I've been thinking, you know, I had so much fun the last time around that if anybody's got some like photos or something and might want some comment-fic, you know, I think I'm open for business.* Who knows, you might even get L, A and Q to play along too. Then again, they might all boycott and you'll be stuck with me. ;-)

*You know how it goes.

Comments

crappy, surreptitious pic of hs!Brad after a shower

[alethialia.livejournal.com]

Re: crappy, surreptitious pic of hs!Brad after a shower

[alethialia.livejournal.com]

Oh, what, you people have NOTHING to say to wet, half-naked hs!Brad? Srsly? Fine. FINE. Make me do everything myself, damn.

***
A few unused pictures had remained on Nate's disposable camera. It'd been sitting around forever, to the point that it was getting stupid. He needed to take pictures of something, so bringing it into the boys locker room hadn't seemed like a terrible idea. The guys hadn't cared, hamming it up like the attention whores they were. Only Brad had raised an eyebrow, then promptly disappeared to shower.

Nate was undeterred. He saved the best for last, caught Brad in a towel, wet hair hanging in his eyes. Brad didn't even need to say a word—his expression clearly stated how vastly unimpressed he was.

Nate merely smirked and tossed off a jaunty salute.

The pictures became a slightly bigger deal when someone (Tony) had stolen them, made photocopies, and tossed them down the stairwells in an attempt to get some vengeance on behalf of all the colored folk that white boys had exploited over the years. Or something.

The fact that Tony looked like some kind of bronzed god next to the rest of them—and he wanted Angie to notice—that might've had something to do with it, too.

Needless to say, they were the talk of the school soon enough.

Ray regaled anyone who'd listen with arguments of how svelte (his word) physiques were vastly superior to the muscle-bound meatheads of the rest of the team. Nate didn't really follow, though he was duly offended on the meatheads' behalf.

A shocking number of people believed Ray, nodded along. Many of them girls. Nate would suggest Ray become a politician if he didn't fear Ray might actually do so. He couldn't, in good conscience, inflict that on the world.

The amusement lasted a while...and then Nate heard the grumbling. Again, mostly from girls. They didn't appreciate the lack of self-portraiture. Or of Brad.

Brad just loved that. "I seem to recall you taking a picture of me," Brad said, raising an eyebrow at Nate after he was asked, again, when their pictures would be forthcoming.

Nate smiled his self-deprecating smile and shrugged. "Came out blurry." It was true—technically true—just lacking the tiny detail of how blurry.

Brad didn't ask, but his eyes called bullshit as the girls made annoyed sounds and melted away.

Well, whatever. The picture was blurry—God's honest truth—so Nate had set it aside.

He looked at it sometimes. Not in a creepy way or anything, just...considering. There was something about it. Something purely Brad, a kind of age-old quality there. Oh, his skin was smooth, muscles cut, barely a shadow of stubble on his chin; he had every outward appearance of youth, but something about his eyes, the way he looked at Nate—it stuck with him.

It didn't go away. It was there as he settled into sleep, there when his alarm rudely awoke him, even there when he jerked off in the shower, no matter how hard Nate tried to blank it out, think of anything else. No, his mind always returned to Brad's eyes, filled in the scene: Brad looking at him like that, while Nate thrust into his fist, water sliding down his body. Nate gasped at the jolt that sent through him, steam thick in his lungs. He firmed his grip, imagined Brad doing this, stroking him rough and tight, watching, always watching—

Coming was a rush—freefall when he hadn't expected it. It left him lightheaded and weak, panting against the tile and wondering what the fuck.

What the fuck?

Nate pulled himself together more slowly than usual, the thought of Brad's eyes still tingling in his nerve endings, the wash of pleasure making his head heavy.

He should get rid of the picture. That much was clear.

Nate went to his room and grabbed it, moved to drop it in the trash...but then he did that thing, that thing where he looked at it. And he just couldn't.

Fuck.

Instead he stuffed it in a drawer and pushed it out of his mind. Really, no need to dwell on things that didn't even matter.

He kept the negative.

It still didn't matter. Not at all.

***

The end. (Until Brad finds the picture, but that's someone else's job, A is tired.)

Re: crappy, surreptitious pic of hs!Brad after a shower

[romanticalgirl.livejournal.com]

Oh, Nate. You're so cute thinking that you're not totally in love with him.

I have the link to the picture open to write. I just now have to go to work. Unfair! I just want to stay home and write porn!

Re: crappy, surreptitious pic of hs!Brad after a shower

[hackthis.livejournal.com]

NO! WORK IS BAD! Says the person who has a 12 hour day ahead of her and won't be able to write. SADNESS!

Re: crappy, surreptitious pic of hs!Brad after a shower

[alethialia.livejournal.com]

Nate's denial is a tangible thing. He's gonna be a bit thrown when Brad finds that picture and is all, 'so, is there a reason you keep my picture with the rest of your jerkoff material?' And Nate's gonna be like, '...huh. That's not a bad point.' But then he'll have Brad, so.

YAYYYYYY!

Re: crappy, surreptitious pic of hs!Brad after a shower

[hackthis.livejournal.com]

I love how you get all pissy like I'm not systematically working my way down this post. But you know, since you did it yourself I'm sure you don't want my take on it now ;-)

Re: crappy, surreptitious pic of hs!Brad after a shower

[alethialia.livejournal.com]

Not want your take? Psha. That's just crazy talk.

You don't even give me a 'wet!Brad = hotassery.' I am abused, I'm telling you.

Re: crappy, surreptitious pic of hs!Brad after a shower

[hackthis.livejournal.com]

Dude, I wrote you GS-verse with Natalie and all I get is abuse; I see how it is. Go away so I can write about Brad finding this picture in the back of Nate's nightstand.

Re: crappy, surreptitious pic of hs!Brad after a shower

[sparky77.livejournal.com]

Oh Nate. *pets him*

Re: crappy, surreptitious pic of hs!Brad after a shower

[alethialia.livejournal.com]

Isn't he just precious? And so, so in denial. Clearly someone needs to kick him out of that. Brad works. Or Ray. Heh. Imagine Ray finding that picture in front of everyone. Oh, Jesus, that'd be hilarious.

Re: crappy, surreptitious pic of hs!Brad after a shower

[shoshannagold.livejournal.com]

had stolen them, made photocopies, and tossed them down the stairwells in an attempt to get some vengeance on behalf of all the colored folk that white boys had exploited over the years. Or something. HA! So Poke.

Wait - this is HS AU fic. *is terribly slow* Awesome!

Nate would suggest Ray become a politician if he didn't fear Ray might actually do so. He couldn't, in good conscience, inflict that on the world. Would he be Republican? Hmmm.

but something about his eyes, the way he looked at Nate—it stuck with him. Ooh. That's just gorgeous.

It still didn't matter. Not at all. Of course not. Poor Nate, all that self-delusion is tiring. Brad will fix that, soon enough.

Since when do you bring the angst? Not that it's not wonderful, but, God, is the sun going to come up in the west tomorrow?

Re: crappy, surreptitious pic of hs!Brad after a shower

[alethialia.livejournal.com]

Yes, it is an hs!AU. And what angst? There's no angst. There's lots of denial, but Brad'll clear that up right quick.

Re: crappy, surreptitious pic of hs!Brad after a shower

[ampr.livejournal.com]

Fantastic! Liked it very much

Re: crappy, surreptitious pic of hs!Brad after a shower

[alethialia.livejournal.com]

Wow, I love that people are reading these. I haven't seen this stuff in two years and it STILL holds up! ::loves::

And thank you!

The 11th Commandment

[hackthis.livejournal.com]

Nate's in the shower cleaning himself off since it's possible he just got attacked with balloons filled with shaving cream on his way home. It's also possible that Brad's responsible for this happening, you know since he's the one who had said balloons in his backpack and totally ambushed Nate when he was walking from the car to his house. And then there was some yelling and possible somebody got hosed – but Brad can live with being wet.

Besides, Brad's far too busy to looking for porn in Nate's nightstand to think about things like guilt.

Every man over the age of 15, okay, 13 has porn in his nightstand; it’s decreed by law. In fact it's probably the 11th Commandment, and Moses just didn't want to get shit from his wife about what he was doing with the latest version of Biblical Hotties hiding under the Kleenex.

Nate, it would seem, is not like other guys at all. Brad's always had his suspicions.

Yes, he's got the Kleenex and the Jergens, but there's no copies of Hustler at all.

Brad raises an eyebrow and taps the bottom of the drawer. No, no false bottom either.

Brad frowns. This isn't right at all.

He slides down off of the bed and onto his knees, rifles through the old copies of National Geographic, Sports Illustrated and college brochures. He shakes the magazines and waits for something salacious to come out. But there are no naked chicks in the Nat Geos, just studies of the Antarctic, and unless Nate's suddenly developed a thing for Troy Aikman or Emmitt Smith, that's not it either.

Brad scowls at the nightstand. There's something there, it's just hiding from him.

He unplugs Nate's lamp and sets it on the floor, pulls the drawer out and sets it aside. And then he takes the end table and turns it upside down and one piddling piece of paper falls to the floor.

Brad picks it up more out of disgust at his lack of victory than anything else, and then he flips it over and every nerve ending in his body fires under his skin. Heat surges from his toes to his fingertips to his cock, and he brushes wet strands of hair out of his face.

Nate doesn't have porn, but he has this.

"What the hell are you doing?" Nate's tone is more confused than irritated and Brad looks up at his friend standing in the doorway. Looks at the rivulets of water running down Nate's chest and the towel wrapped around his waist.

He blinks once, and then he holds up the photo. "You don't have porn, but you have this?"

The flush starts in Nate's cheeks and travels downward rapidly. Brad watches the way Nate's skin turns pink at the neck the way, he licks his lips thinking of something to say. "I've never seen that before," Nate lies brazenly.

"Oh," Brad says, watching a drop of water run from Nate's collarbone over his left nipple. He could trace it with his tongue. "So, you wouldn't mind if I ripped this up?" he says, preparing to tear the photo into squares. "The quality leaves something to be desired

Nate swallows, looks somewhere over Brad's right ear. "Doesn't matter to me."

Brad smiles as he stands up. Tries to replace the predatory smile he can feel on his face with something less likely to freak Nate out. "Where'd you get it?" he asks softly, advancing as Nate takes one step back and then another.

Nate's almost out the door when Brad reaches past him and slams the door shut before he can escape. "Nate," he says, using the voice his sister calls the "oh, god, Brad wants something" tone.

Nate purses his lips. "It's just a photo," he says stubbornly.

Brad nods and tosses it over his shoulder. "You're right" he says, reaching out and hooking his fingers into the makeshift waistband of Nate's towel. "I'd much rather have the real thing."

Nate looks up at him, eyes wide and searching. "You would?"

Brad tugs at the towel, feels it release in his hand and pulls it off, taking in Nate completely exposed before him. "Yeah," he admits. "Definitely."

Re: The 11th Commandment

[elizaria.livejournal.com]

He found it! And awwwwwww, boys!

Re: The 11th Commandment

[alethialia.livejournal.com]

AHHH! You end it THERE?! (Are we sensing a theme today?)

But, omg, BOYS! Shaving cream balloon fight!

Besides, Brad's far too busy to looking for porn in Nate's nightstand to think about things like guilt.

I want to marry this line. This line is Brad distilled to his essence!

In fact it's probably the 11th Commandment, and Moses just didn't want to get shit from his wife about what he was doing with the latest version of Biblical Hotties hiding under the Kleenex.

Oh, my poor, poor sides. Srsly, I'm wiping away tears. You kill me.

Brad looks up at his friend standing in the doorway. Looks at the rivulets of water running down Nate's chest and the towel wrapped around his waist.

Mmmmmmm.

Brad nods and tosses it over his shoulder. "You're right" he says, reaching out and hooking his fingers into the makeshift waistband of Nate's towel. "I'd much rather have the real thing."

I love the little detail of Brad tossing it over his shoulder. LOVE. Also, Nate's dawning hope. ::hearts::

They're so cute! Love them! And you. As one does.

Re: The 11th Commandment

[sparky77.livejournal.com]

AW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Re: The 11th Commandment

[romanticalgirl.livejournal.com]

You know Brad still wants to know where the porn is.

Re: The 11th Commandment

[ampr.livejournal.com]

Aww, wonderful second part

Not quite high school.

[romanticalgirl.livejournal.com]

Brad shows up at camp with his hair halfway down his neck and his bangs hanging in his face. Poke starts laughing when he sees him and pretty soon the news is all around Pendleton. Marines are worse than teenagers when it comes to juicy gossip and Brad Colbert, the motherfucking Iceman, looking like some pre-boot camp rookie is the best thing to roll down the wires since someone heard (mistakenly) that Captain American had, as Walt put it in comic book terms, fallen on his shield.

Brad ignores everyone magnificently, but he's had more practice than most with Person as his RTO. He doesn't pay attention to anything except toweling off after his shower until Nate's managed to get everyone cleared out of the room and is leaning against the wall. Brad turns his head, his expression unreadable.

"Letting yourself go, Sergeant?"

"I've been on leave, sir." Brad straightens up, the towel barely hanging around his hips, the end tucked in to the waist, leaving a slit that reveals a significant amount of Brad's thigh. "Don't worry. I'll be back to regulation by the time I'm on the clock."

"I think your reputation as a hippie-loving, pot-smoking, butt-fucking, country music listening liberal is currently being spread across Pendleton. The boys don't know how to handle you looking..."

"Looking?" Brad lets the word hang in the air, watching Nate as he leans forward, foot on the bench and tugs off the towel and dries his leg.

"Looking like that."

"Like what?" He straightens up and, with a towel, Brad is pretty much the perfect specimen of manhood. Without it, there's no question.

"Like you're not some bad-ass Marine."

"Because the hair's not high and tight?" Brad smirks and hangs his towel over the edge of his locker. His black briefs stand out darkly even against his tan. "That makes me not a Marine?"

"No. It just makes you more...real." Nate shrugs, watching Brad's body as he covers it up with fatigues and a t-shirt.

Brad grabs his boots and walks over to Nate, looking him straight in the eye. "Trust me, sir." He leans in and his breath fans over Nate's mouth, his blond hair falling against Nate's cheek. "I'm very, very real."

Re: Not quite high school.

[alethialia.livejournal.com]

the best thing to roll down the wires since someone heard (mistakenly) that Captain American had, as Walt put it in comic book terms, fallen on his shield.

AHAHAHA! Oh, Walt. You're too kind.

country music listening liberal

Hee! Everything Brad hates, damn.

with a towel, Brad is pretty much the perfect specimen of manhood. Without it, there's no question.

Yeah, Jesus, GUH.

"I'm very, very real."

And we are all glad for it!

Yay for wet!Brad. And Brad 'letting himself go,' ha! ::hearts muchly::

Re: Not quite high school.

[romanticalgirl.livejournal.com]

Wet!Brad is one of my favorite Brads. Also, Taunting!Nate!Brad. I like him too. ::twirls you::

Re: Not quite high school.

[hackthis.livejournal.com]

the motherfucking Iceman, looking like some pre-boot camp rookie is the best thing to roll down the wires since someone heard (mistakenly) that Captain American had, as Walt put it in comic book terms, fallen on his shield.

And this is why I love you. Okay, not this per se, but like this is part of it. You just have this way with words.

Re: Not quite high school.

[romanticalgirl.livejournal.com]

Nate is a little unnerved by how much he appreciates floppy!hair! Brad. Also, Walt totally reads comics, but he doesn't talk about them with Ray because that way leads to arguments about DC versus Marvel and independents and really, no one wants to give Ray a *new* field of territory to have diarrhea of the mouth about.