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carlyinromeTITLE: Hard Times
RATING: NC-17
FANDOM: Thunderheart
PAIRING: Ray Levoi/Walter Crow Horse
SUMMARY: Mostly name calling and hair pulling. Another installation in the Lakota calendar series.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: For
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myhappyface, who made the request ages ago. ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif){kind=small}
rarepair100 prompt #:8 revenge and Mundane Bingo prompt: rough housing.The Sioux had their own calendar, and because it was one of the easiest to say, the first month Ray learned was Wiotehike Wi—Hard Times. It spanned the end of November and most of December, bitter cold months where the snowdrifts would pile up high, blocking the roads, sealing people inside their houses beneath walls of snow and ice.
Ray and Crow Horse were on day three of nature’s house arrest. Ray was getting agitated.
“Goddammit,” Crow Horse growled, swatting Ray away. It was mid-afternoon, but they were still in bed, the warmest place in the house. “You pull my hair again, and I swear—”
Sometimes Ray just couldn’t help himself. He circled Crow Horse’s hair around his fingers and yanked.
Ray was a couple inches taller than Walter, which was negligible when they were in bed together, but Walter was heavier, which wasn’t. Walter bullied Ray onto his belly, pinned him, and gave him a couple sharp smacks to the backside. Ray growled.
It was easy to forget sometimes, when you saw the man so often in his pajamas and sleep hair, or even if you were used to him as a PR Indian with a Rolex and a mid-priced suit, that he had worked most of his life undercover, and that he had combat experience. And not that fancy judo or karate or whatever; real, rough and rumble street fighting. Ray reached back, grabbed Walter, and flipped him over and onto his back, springing on top of him in the same movement. Ray pinned Walter by his wrists, and at the hips, where he moved his own body slowly against Walter’s.
“Now what?” he purred.
Walter bucked beneath him, but Ray’s hold was competent, and Walter couldn’t budge him.
“Goddammit,” Walter said.
Ray pretended he had not heard, and continued to move his hips against Walter’s, rubbing his erection against Walter’s thigh. Every so often he would let his stomach rub over Walter’s tented shorts, but only every so often. Walter writhed beneath Ray’s grasp, beneath his tortuous attentions.
“You son of a bitch,” he growled.
“Sweet talker,” Ray panted. His cheeks were coloring.
The worst thing wasn’t the insufficient touching. It was watching Ray getting close, his skin reddening, his chest heaving with shallow breaths, his lush mouth parting and trembling. Walter felt such tension he could have burst through his skin and not been surprised.
“Jesus, Ray, I’m sorry—please—”
Ray bucked against him as he came, and then collapsed onto Walter’s straining body. Ray slipped one hand between Walter’s shorts and his eager flesh; the other he tangled in Walter’s hair. Ray moved his hand slowly inside Walter’s undershorts, and as he came, Ray gave his hair a long, hard tug.
Fine. He’d let Ray have this one.
Ray and Crow Horse were on day three of nature’s house arrest. Ray was getting agitated.
“Goddammit,” Crow Horse growled, swatting Ray away. It was mid-afternoon, but they were still in bed, the warmest place in the house. “You pull my hair again, and I swear—”
Sometimes Ray just couldn’t help himself. He circled Crow Horse’s hair around his fingers and yanked.
Ray was a couple inches taller than Walter, which was negligible when they were in bed together, but Walter was heavier, which wasn’t. Walter bullied Ray onto his belly, pinned him, and gave him a couple sharp smacks to the backside. Ray growled.
It was easy to forget sometimes, when you saw the man so often in his pajamas and sleep hair, or even if you were used to him as a PR Indian with a Rolex and a mid-priced suit, that he had worked most of his life undercover, and that he had combat experience. And not that fancy judo or karate or whatever; real, rough and rumble street fighting. Ray reached back, grabbed Walter, and flipped him over and onto his back, springing on top of him in the same movement. Ray pinned Walter by his wrists, and at the hips, where he moved his own body slowly against Walter’s.
“Now what?” he purred.
Walter bucked beneath him, but Ray’s hold was competent, and Walter couldn’t budge him.
“Goddammit,” Walter said.
Ray pretended he had not heard, and continued to move his hips against Walter’s, rubbing his erection against Walter’s thigh. Every so often he would let his stomach rub over Walter’s tented shorts, but only every so often. Walter writhed beneath Ray’s grasp, beneath his tortuous attentions.
“You son of a bitch,” he growled.
“Sweet talker,” Ray panted. His cheeks were coloring.
The worst thing wasn’t the insufficient touching. It was watching Ray getting close, his skin reddening, his chest heaving with shallow breaths, his lush mouth parting and trembling. Walter felt such tension he could have burst through his skin and not been surprised.
“Jesus, Ray, I’m sorry—please—”
Ray bucked against him as he came, and then collapsed onto Walter’s straining body. Ray slipped one hand between Walter’s shorts and his eager flesh; the other he tangled in Walter’s hair. Ray moved his hand slowly inside Walter’s undershorts, and as he came, Ray gave his hair a long, hard tug.
Fine. He’d let Ray have this one.
no subject
Date: 2011-02-16 04:14 am (UTC)It was easy to forget sometimes, when you saw the man so often in his pajamas and sleep hair, or even if you were used to him as a PR Indian with a Rolex and a mid-priced suit, that he had worked most of his life undercover, and that he had combat experience. And not that fancy judo or karate or whatever; real, rough and rumble street fighting.
I love this description of Ray so much. I'm not sure if him pinning Walter down in bed is supposed to be as sexy as it was, but I loved it.
no subject
Date: 2011-02-16 07:18 am (UTC)Yay! We aim to please. :) Thanks; I'm glad you liked the rough housing.
Did you read Marrow? It's kind of long, but the second chapter has a sex scene in which Walter's hair is very important. I think you'll like it.
no subject
Date: 2011-02-16 07:12 am (UTC)LOL Appropriate icon is appropriate.
Is it time for my victory dance? I don't care; I'm doing one. This is scorching.
Hee. Thank you! I've actually been working on this prompt since you gave it to me; it just took it this long to gel.
I can't believe you wrote hairpulling. Because, I guess, the best way for silly boys to show affection for someone remainds the tried-and-true method of pigtail pulling.
I actually started writing Crow Horse having to braid his hair into pigtails for some reason, and Ray getting all like, "Wait. What is this?" and distracted, but then I didn't want to fall into all Indians wear braids thing.
Ray moved his hand slowly inside Walter’s undershorts, and as he came, Ray gave his hair a long, hard tug.
HOT. Seriously, really hot.
Hee, if I've made a sentence with the word "undershorts" hot, I have done my job for the day. Thanks, Holly; I'm really glad you liked it. I worked a long time to get this one right for you. <3
no subject
Date: 2011-02-16 05:19 pm (UTC)HEE! I like you the most.
no subject
Date: 2012-01-03 04:42 pm (UTC)I love the power shift here so much- Ray's usually the one keyed up, and Walter still perceives him as such, but there's a subtle change there. Really, really lovely!
Plus, hints of undercover!Ray. KILLING ME.
no subject
Date: 2012-01-03 05:25 pm (UTC)Thank you! I am glad to cause flailing!
I think the only time I've written explicitly about Ray's undercover work is in Dog Days, but it's a subject that really interests me.