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carlyinromeTITLE: Outside
RATING: PG-13
FANDOM: Thunderheart
PAIRING: Ray Levoi/Walter Crow Horse
SUMMARY: Ray has never been camping before. Crow Horse finds this unacceptable.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Written for
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dailyfics prompt #2, skin (See my full table here).Ray had lived all of his life in the city, which meant a few things. It meant that he was used to having the power to conjure foods from foreign lands to his doorstep, and that he generally only saw wildlife squished on the highway, or when he was shooing it away from garbage can spelunking. And, because Ray had been raised by city people who had no interest, really, in what lay beyond paved roads and reliable indoor plumbing, this also meant that he had never gone camping.
Ray had never given the issue much thought, but the idea clearly offended Crow Horse.
“Damn, Ray, it’s like you were raised in captivity.”
Ray didn’t think that was fair, but he agreed to go camping, anyway.
They drove Ray’s truck to some secret spot Crow Horse knew. And because Crow Horse’s definition of roughing it meant really roughing it, they strapped the gear to their backs and hiked for a few miles out into the Badlands, the truck disappearing against the horizon.
Ray missed running water, and he didn’t much care for the food; they cooked it over the campfire, which made everything taste like char. But it was pretty country, and it was nice to have the stars overhead. There were so many more stars out here, where the sky wasn’t congested with car exhaust and God knew what other pollutants city dwellers coughed up into the air. They sat out, just looking at the night sky and not saying much, until the bone-deep cold of a desert night got to them. They put out the fire and snuck into the tent.
Ray frowned. “You only brought one sleeping bag.”
Crow Horse chuckled, and put an arm around Ray’s ribs, pulling Ray back against his chest. His free hand started working down Ray’s fly. “It sleeps two, honey.”
They made love in the warm cocoon of the sleeping bag. Ray’s cries echoed off the canyons.
Ray had never given the issue much thought, but the idea clearly offended Crow Horse.
“Damn, Ray, it’s like you were raised in captivity.”
Ray didn’t think that was fair, but he agreed to go camping, anyway.
They drove Ray’s truck to some secret spot Crow Horse knew. And because Crow Horse’s definition of roughing it meant really roughing it, they strapped the gear to their backs and hiked for a few miles out into the Badlands, the truck disappearing against the horizon.
Ray missed running water, and he didn’t much care for the food; they cooked it over the campfire, which made everything taste like char. But it was pretty country, and it was nice to have the stars overhead. There were so many more stars out here, where the sky wasn’t congested with car exhaust and God knew what other pollutants city dwellers coughed up into the air. They sat out, just looking at the night sky and not saying much, until the bone-deep cold of a desert night got to them. They put out the fire and snuck into the tent.
Ray frowned. “You only brought one sleeping bag.”
Crow Horse chuckled, and put an arm around Ray’s ribs, pulling Ray back against his chest. His free hand started working down Ray’s fly. “It sleeps two, honey.”
They made love in the warm cocoon of the sleeping bag. Ray’s cries echoed off the canyons.
***
In the morning, they ate some more smoky campfire food, and then went for a hike. Ray was in good shape, but the terrain was challenging and the sun was high and hot, and he was pleased when their destination turned out to be a little lake. He was kneeling by the water’s edge, thirsty-skinned, when he caught something out of the corner of his eye.
“What are you doing?”
Crow Horse froze in the action of yanking off a boot. “Goin’ swimming.”
Ray looked around—even though they hadn’t seen a soul on the hike up—to make sure they were alone.
“Naked?” he asked, blushing when his voice didn’t quite make it out full-strength.
“Well, I sure as hell ain’t doin’ it with my clothes on, Ray.”
Crow Horse pulled his shirt off over his head. Ray goggled.
“I—but—what if someone sees?”
“Lucky them,” Crow Horse said. He stripped off his jeans and shorts and then walked, bare-assed, into the water. He arched a brow at Ray. “You comin’?”
Ray looked around again. He watched Crow Horse’s shoulders flex as he butterfly-stroked out into the middle of the lake. Ray rubbed at the bridge of his nose; his skin felt taut with heat, crusty with dried sweat. And the water did look good . . .
Ray looked around for a third time, verifying that no peeping Toms had popped up since the last time he checked, five seconds ago. Then he started to undress.
“What are you doing?”
Crow Horse froze in the action of yanking off a boot. “Goin’ swimming.”
Ray looked around—even though they hadn’t seen a soul on the hike up—to make sure they were alone.
“Naked?” he asked, blushing when his voice didn’t quite make it out full-strength.
“Well, I sure as hell ain’t doin’ it with my clothes on, Ray.”
Crow Horse pulled his shirt off over his head. Ray goggled.
“I—but—what if someone sees?”
“Lucky them,” Crow Horse said. He stripped off his jeans and shorts and then walked, bare-assed, into the water. He arched a brow at Ray. “You comin’?”
Ray looked around again. He watched Crow Horse’s shoulders flex as he butterfly-stroked out into the middle of the lake. Ray rubbed at the bridge of his nose; his skin felt taut with heat, crusty with dried sweat. And the water did look good . . .
Ray looked around for a third time, verifying that no peeping Toms had popped up since the last time he checked, five seconds ago. Then he started to undress.
***
They swam until they were tired, and then made their way to the shore. Ray stretched out in the surf, half in the water and half on the cool, sandy shore. Crow Horse plopped down next to him, balancing himself on one arm. His hair hung in wet curls, and Ray couldn’t resist reaching up and tugging one. Usually Crow Horse got testy about Ray pulling his hair, but this time he let it go. He leaned down and kissed him, and then ran one hand over Ray’s belly, the skin still slick with water.
He studied Ray a long moment, unspeaking. Then he leaned down and kissed Ray’s nose. Ray laughed.
Crow Horse patted his cheek fondly. “You’re sunburnt, honey.”
Ray relaxed back into the soft earth. “That’s okay. I think I still like camping.”
“Oh yeah? What was your favorite part?”
Ray bit his lip. He brushed his knuckles over the inside of Crow Horse’s thigh.
“Last night,” he said. “In the tent.”
Crow Horse chuckled. He moved over Ray, straddling him at the waist, a hand planted on either side of Ray’s head.
“You ever had sex outside before?”
“Last night—”
Crow Horse shook his head. “Last night we were in the tent. I mean really outside, out in the open.”
Ray felt a shiver of nerves and arousal run through him. He shook his head.
Crow Horse leaned over him, his hair dripping on Ray’s sun-sensitive skin. Crow Horse purred against Ray’s ear: “How would you like to?”
Ray moaned. He pulled Crow Horse down on top of him.
Yup. He liked camping.
He studied Ray a long moment, unspeaking. Then he leaned down and kissed Ray’s nose. Ray laughed.
Crow Horse patted his cheek fondly. “You’re sunburnt, honey.”
Ray relaxed back into the soft earth. “That’s okay. I think I still like camping.”
“Oh yeah? What was your favorite part?”
Ray bit his lip. He brushed his knuckles over the inside of Crow Horse’s thigh.
“Last night,” he said. “In the tent.”
Crow Horse chuckled. He moved over Ray, straddling him at the waist, a hand planted on either side of Ray’s head.
“You ever had sex outside before?”
“Last night—”
Crow Horse shook his head. “Last night we were in the tent. I mean really outside, out in the open.”
Ray felt a shiver of nerves and arousal run through him. He shook his head.
Crow Horse leaned over him, his hair dripping on Ray’s sun-sensitive skin. Crow Horse purred against Ray’s ear: “How would you like to?”
Ray moaned. He pulled Crow Horse down on top of him.
Yup. He liked camping.
no subject
Date: 2012-02-20 04:13 pm (UTC)So, about the story. These guys should go camping on a regular basis. Having been to the Badlands, I could picture the whole thing — hiking, cooking, cuddling up in a tent and going skinny-dipping. It was like a little movie scene. So, kudos to you once again!
no subject
Date: 2012-02-20 08:18 pm (UTC)You capture very well the cadence of Crow Horse's voice.
Thank you! I tend to be very mindful of cadence in general, but there's such a specific rhythm to the way Crow Horse talks, I'm glad it's something I get right.
I also got the idea from the movie that Crow Horse put a lot of stock in names, thought they were important and knew that using them kept the names and the relationships alive.
Oh, gosh, names are so important in that film. How Coutelle calls Crow Horse "Crow Foot" and just makes up an "Indian name" for Ray, because all Indians, and by extensions their names, are interchangeable. Oh, I could go on. I won't, though. What I will say: HarperCollins published a "novelization" (I use the term loosely) of Thunderheart when the movie came out. They do a lot of things wrong, but one thing they do right is keep up this theme of the importance of names. Whenever Ray gets nervy, when his faith in himself is shaken, he says, "My name is Ray Levoi."
So, kudos to you once again!
Thank you so much! I'm so glad you enjoyed it.
no subject
Date: 2012-02-21 03:43 am (UTC)Ray. Oh boys. They make my heart throb with joy.
“Damn, Ray, it’s like you were raised in captivity.”
This line just captures everything, really.
Ray frowned. “You only brought one sleeping bag.”
Eeeeehehehehe. Dense kola. I really enjoy how well you capture Ray's particular brand of tight-wound, because it never comes across as childish or prudish. He's just... Private. And maybe a little skittish. Wonderful.
no subject
Date: 2012-02-21 03:54 am (UTC)Ray. Oh boys. They make my heart throb with joy.
I love them so much, it is bordering on ridiculous.
“Damn, Ray, it’s like you were raised in captivity.”
This line just captures everything, really.
Crow Horse knows what's up.
<I really enjoy how well you capture Ray's particular brand of tight-wound, because it never comes across as childish or prudish. He's just... Private. And maybe a little skittish. Wonderful.
Yes, exactly. That's exactly how I see him.
That reminds me: this weekend I was fitting Val Kilmer characters for Myers-Briggs profiles -- like you do -- and Ray's was spot-on, dead perfect. Just reading the description kind of makes my heart clench:
Ray Levoi (Thunderheart) - ISFJ: the Protector
ISFJs are interested in maintaining order and harmony in every aspect of their lives. They are steadfast and meticulous in handling their responsibilities. Although quiet, they are people-oriented and very observant. Not only do they remember details about others, but they observe and respect others’ feelings. Friends and family are likely to describe them as thoughtful and trustworthy.
ISFJs, or “Protector Guardians,” are most concerned with taking care of people by keeping them safe and secure. They are modest caretakers who do not demand credit or thanks for their efforts. But while they are essentially compassionate—and in fact exercise more patience in dealing with people with disabilities than perhaps any other type—their shyness with strangers can lead others to misread them as standoffish. Only among friends and family may this quiet type feel comfortable speaking freely. ISFJs are serious people with a strong work ethic, not inclined to self-indulgence. They believe in being meticulous and thrifty. They work well alone. While they may enjoy taking care of others, they do not enjoy giving orders.
(I also did Crow Horse. He's an ESFP, the same type as Marilyn Monroe. LOL.)
no subject
Date: 2012-03-06 01:10 am (UTC)