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carlyinromeTITLE: Second Hand
RATING: R
FANDOM: Thunderheart
PAIRING: Ray Levoi/Walter Crow Horse
SUMMARY: From
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derangedfangirl’s prompt: Walter/Ray finds a photo of the other wearing leather pants.Ray wanted to make a good impression, and there was a lot stacked against him, so it took him a long time to relax when they went to visit Walter’s folks. For this reason, it was a long while before he noticed the photograph of Walter in his college days collecting dust on the mantle.
Ray squinted. “Are those—are you wearing leather pants?”
Walter hitched up his regular old denim britches and gave Ray a look. “You got eyes, don’t you, Raymond?”
Ray took the picture down. The photo, grainy and faded, was of Walter and a few of his cousins hanging around outside a VW bus. One of the cousins was in dance regalia, so Ray figured it was a powwow. Walter was in the middle of the picture, leaning against the VW, hair long and free, aviators glinting in the sun, thin legs clad in what were most definitely a pair of dark brown leather pants.
“I—” Ray started, but before he could come to a thought, Walter snatched the picture from his hands and set it back on the mantle.
“Long time ago,” Walter said.
Ray squinted. “Are those—are you wearing leather pants?”
Walter hitched up his regular old denim britches and gave Ray a look. “You got eyes, don’t you, Raymond?”
Ray took the picture down. The photo, grainy and faded, was of Walter and a few of his cousins hanging around outside a VW bus. One of the cousins was in dance regalia, so Ray figured it was a powwow. Walter was in the middle of the picture, leaning against the VW, hair long and free, aviators glinting in the sun, thin legs clad in what were most definitely a pair of dark brown leather pants.
“I—” Ray started, but before he could come to a thought, Walter snatched the picture from his hands and set it back on the mantle.
“Long time ago,” Walter said.
***
“Do you still have them?” Ray asked on the car ride home.
Walter quit singing to Conway Twitty on the radio. “Have what?”
Ray bit gently at his bottom lip. “The leather pants.”
“Hmm,” Walter said, and turned the speakers up.
Walter quit singing to Conway Twitty on the radio. “Have what?”
Ray bit gently at his bottom lip. “The leather pants.”
“Hmm,” Walter said, and turned the speakers up.
***
“Can I see them?” Ray asked, while he was feeding the dog and Walter was frying up some supper.
“Just had your eyes checked, didn’t you?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Those old leathers prob’ly don’t even fit no more, Ray,” Walter said.
Ray pouted through dinner.
“Just had your eyes checked, didn’t you?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Those old leathers prob’ly don’t even fit no more, Ray,” Walter said.
Ray pouted through dinner.
***
A few nights later, Ray came out into the bedroom after his evening bathroom ritual, and his jaw dropped. Walter was waiting for him, standing before the bed in the old leather pants and nothing else. He’d let down his hair and shaken it out, and it hung wild around him.
Ray grinned.
“Thank you,” he said, and closed the distance between them.
Walter arched a brow. “What for?”
Ray traced over the soft line of Walter’s belly with his forefinger, tugged gently at a belt loop.
“You look like a rock star,” Ray said, smiling so fierce he was almost laughing. “Can you—” He blushed. “Can you wear them while we . . . ?”
Walter’s brow rose. “Honey, if you can figure out a way we can have sex without me taking off my pants—”
“I could use my mouth on you!” Ray said with an eagerness that rarely accompanied the sentiment. He tugged at Walter’s zipper and met his eyes. “Can I? Please?”
And something rare happened—Walter was struck speechless.
“Well,” he managed finally, “far be it from me to stand between you and your dreams.”
Ray knelt before him, still grinning like a fool, and slowly unbuttoned the leather pants. He pressed a kiss to Walter’s fly, the old leather gamy and wild. Walter threaded his fingers through Ray’s soft, short hair, and Walter’s eyes rolled back. The old leather pants from the photo hadn’t fit anymore, of course. But this was the best twenty bucks he’d ever spent at the flea market.
Ray grinned.
“Thank you,” he said, and closed the distance between them.
Walter arched a brow. “What for?”
Ray traced over the soft line of Walter’s belly with his forefinger, tugged gently at a belt loop.
“You look like a rock star,” Ray said, smiling so fierce he was almost laughing. “Can you—” He blushed. “Can you wear them while we . . . ?”
Walter’s brow rose. “Honey, if you can figure out a way we can have sex without me taking off my pants—”
“I could use my mouth on you!” Ray said with an eagerness that rarely accompanied the sentiment. He tugged at Walter’s zipper and met his eyes. “Can I? Please?”
And something rare happened—Walter was struck speechless.
“Well,” he managed finally, “far be it from me to stand between you and your dreams.”
Ray knelt before him, still grinning like a fool, and slowly unbuttoned the leather pants. He pressed a kiss to Walter’s fly, the old leather gamy and wild. Walter threaded his fingers through Ray’s soft, short hair, and Walter’s eyes rolled back. The old leather pants from the photo hadn’t fit anymore, of course. But this was the best twenty bucks he’d ever spent at the flea market.
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Date: 2012-05-31 09:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-01 04:03 pm (UTC)Thank you so much! I'm glad you liked it.
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Date: 2012-05-31 09:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-01 04:08 pm (UTC)Thank you! I'm really glad. :)
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Date: 2012-06-01 12:12 am (UTC)I love the build- Ray trying to be subtle but not TOO subtle, finally having to ask outright because Walter, while not incapable of taking a hint, usually won't because he's Walter and he can.
“You look like a rock star,” Ray said, smiling so fierce he was almost laughing. “Can you—” He blushed. “Can you wear them while we . . . ?”
Walter’s brow rose. “Honey, if you can figure out a way we can have sex without me taking off my pants—”
“I could use my mouth on you!” Ray said with an eagerness that rarely accompanied the sentiment. He tugged at Walter’s zipper and met his eyes. “Can I? Please?”
And something rare happened—Walter was struck speechless.
“Well,” he managed finally, “far be it from me to stand between you and your dreams.”
I died. That is all. Perfect. :D
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Date: 2012-06-01 07:31 pm (UTC)YEEEEEEES! Eeeeehehehehhehe. I squealed when I read the last two sentences IRL because that is THE BEST PAYOFF EVER.
Hee! Walter's no dummy. I'm glad you liked the story. Thanks for saying so.
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Date: 2012-06-01 12:49 am (UTC)Walter was waiting for him, standing before the bed in the old leather pants and nothing else. He’d let down his hair and shaken it out, and it hung wild around him.
Nice image.
I just finished watching the movie, like an hour ago. I liked it a lot. It was oddly anachronistic, especially at the beginning: I kept having to remind myself that this was a movie made in the 90s, about something that happened in the 1970s. It was interesting, though, even if some of the writing was tiny bit rough around the edges. The pacing wasn't too bad. Kilmer is pretty, too, especially in that shot at the cemetary near the end. And good God, but that's a perfect ass.
Which reminds me of another thing I liked about the movie: the cinematography. They did a great job of capturing that part of the country and folding that into the narrative, I thought. Really beautiful.
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Date: 2012-06-05 03:24 pm (UTC)Thanks! I'm glad you liked it.
Oh, man, I'm so glad you liked the movie; I love it, and Thunderheart fandom needs more talented writers. *cough* I think, after having done some serious dork math, that the film, which came out in '92, was supposed to take place in, like, 1981, right at the end of the big FBI/AIM to-do.
And good God, but that's a perfect ass.
LOL, yes. I kind of want to have this sentiment framed; it keeps popping up in my head . . .
Also: Sorry for the late response on this; the way my Gmail sends me LJ comments, sometimes one gets lost, or, like, stuck to the bottom of another one.