rippedfuelhero | You know what happens after you get out of the military? You get your brains back

You know what happens after you get out of the military? You get your brains back

Ray had been feeling pretty good the whole way home, playing certain parts of the interview over and over in his head. He got home and practically bounced his way up to the door, a grocery bag in one hand swaying gently against his leg.

"Brooke! I'm home!" He walked into the kitchen to deposit the celebratory chocolate ice cream and coconut vodka he'd bought on the way home--he'd gotten a dessert like that at a restaurant the other week and hadn't been able to stop thinking about it, despite not usually being a fan of overly-sweet drinks. "You here?"

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"Oh, definitely." She watched him for a moment before she dug out her own bite of ice cream, adding a little more depth to his trough, and ate it as she nodded. "Being able to come home every night and know you'll be here and I'll be able to feel your arms around me? Definitely better than waiting three weeks - or longer - to get a letter."

Not that she hated getting letters from him; every single one she got, no matter how short it was or how pointless the topics in them were, were special to her. So much so, in fact, that she kept them stored away in a box beneath their bed, one she actually wasn't sure if Ray knew about or not.

"I won't drive you absolutely insane this way, either. Another couple days cooped up in here with me as your only connection to the outside world and you probably would've kicked me out."

Ray rolled his eyes and poured the vodka in carefully. "Yeah, I'd definitely kick out the best thing that ever happened to me. Not to mention the hottest." He set the vodka down and started swirling it around with his spoon. "You're stuck with me, babe. Once you nurse a guy back to health, that's it. Like when a duckling sees something right after it's born and loves it forever." He looked up at her, a little grin on his lips. "I am that duckling."

Brooke tilted her head slightly as she listened to him, stomach filling with butterflies as she smiled wider around the spoon in her mouth. "That is the sweetest thing I've ever heard." She pulled the spoon away as she spoke, though the smile definitely didn't fade at all. "I hope you realize that your new nickname's duckling now," she teased as she moved to kiss him.

He kissed back, laughing into it. "Shit. You're not allowed to use that around any of my friends." He reached out to brush his fingers against her cheek. "Seriously, though. Best thing. You know that, right? I don't bring home ice cream for just anybody."

Her eyes fell shut for a moment as a faint blush spread across her cheeks. "Yeah, I know." Opening her eyes again, Brooke lifted her hand to his wrist, thumb rubbing over his skin. "You're the best thing that's happened to me, too, Ray."

Ray kept his hand there another minute, beaming quietly at her, then gradually started to look a little sheepish about how happy he felt. "Yeah, well. I'm definitely the hottest piece of ass you're going to find anywhere."

He dropped his hand and gestured at the ice cream. "Try it with the vodka mixed in. It's really good. Tastes like that thing we got at the Italian place last week."

She scoffed at what he said but the look of indignation on her face was pretty clearly fake. Not that she wanted to try to find any piece of ass hotter than him, especially since she was fairly certain no one could compare (unless it was Dave Grohl) but a part of her wanted to argue that if there was a hotter one out there, she'd find it. And sang it.

"I always wondered why more people didn't combine ice cream and alcohol." She dug out another spoonful carefully, just so she wouldn't spill, then let out a pleased sound as she ate it. "Oh my god," she said around the ice cream, unable to contain herself long enough to swallow. "This is amazing."

Ray raised an eyebrow. "That was sexy. Make that noise again." He clenched his spoon between his teeth and grinned, watching her. He was going to have to remember this combination. It tasted good to him, but it wasn't making him produce noises like that.

"No." Brooke wasn't the type to get embarrassed easily but Ray had a habit of calling her out on things like that and it made her obnoxiously aware of little things she does. So as she moved to dig out another bite of ice cream, she tried really hard not to pay attention to the way her cheeks flared a little redder. "You know, the only thing wrong with this dessert is we don't have anything to toast with. Except spoons, but I don't think that works."

"Well hey, if it's just a matter of bumping things together..." Ray gave her a lascivious smile, then shrugged and sat back against the couch, facing her. "I've never really gotten the toasting thing, actually. I mean, I know why we do it, but not why why, y'know? I should look that up. I'm sure there's some kind of weird, ancient origin. Early humans originally knocked the skulls of their enemies together after a successful battle or something."

Brooke's nose scrunched as she turned as well, one foot tucking beneath the opposite knee so she could face him. "That's disgusting. I really hope that's not how it started because if it is? I don't think I'll ever be able to toast to anything ever again. It'll just be ruined. Forever."

Ray laughed. "See, that would make me want to toast things all the time." He took another spoonful of the boozy ice cream, savoring the taste. It really was pretty damn good. "I promise not to tell you if that's what it comes from, though, okay? I'll just say it comes from the ancient tradition of people bumping kittens together. Something cute."

"But you can't do that now," she said, pointing at him with her spoon, "Because if you do, I'll know what you really mean." Left hand moving to him leg to help her keep her balance, Brooke leaned over and dug out another bite of ice cream. "I appreciate the sentiment, though."

"So I can't tell you if it's bad, and now I can't tell you if it's good, because you'll think I'm covering up something bad..." Ray shook his head, then leaned forward and opened his mouth, stealing the ice cream off her spoon with one quick slurp. "This is hopeless," he told her, chocolate dribbling out the corner of his mouth.

Brooke gasped when he stole the ice cream, conversation completely forgotten in favor of hitting him on the arm. "That was so rude!" She started at him in a moment of pretty convincing fake-irritation, but the chocolate at the corner of his mouth made it hard to keep a straight face. "Why do I even put up with you?" she asked as she reached up to wipe away the chocolate with her thumb.

Ray laughed in a way that came dangerously close to being giggling and licked at her thumb. He rubbed his arm where she'd hit him. "Ow! This is abuse! I'm being abused. God, you're mean."

"Whatever," she said as she rolled her eyes. "You love me and my meanness." Reaching over, Brooke tried to grab hold of his wrist so she could rearrange his arms to curl up against him instead of sitting on the opposite end of the couch. She'd be in between his legs with her back against his chest, but at least she'd be close to him if he let her.

"I love you despite your meanness." Ray smiled and let her arrange him as she liked, putting his arms around her when she was sitting against him. "And I love this position," he murmured. "Easy access." He groped her breasts playfully.

She swatted at his hand, though it was more playful than anything. "That's not why I'm leaning against you, perv." After eating another bite of ice cream, Brooke settled more against him, head turning slightly so she could rest her cheek against his chest.

"I'm so glad you're staying here for good now, you know." Her free hand moving to settle on top of his, fingers slipping between his as well. "It was really hard for me, every time you left and I know it wasn't your choice or anything, but... Not having you with me seriously sucked." Aside from the one time he came home and surprised her with the fact that he was being deployed again, Brooke tried her hardest to keep him from seeing how much of a toll it took on her. Especially in the letters she wrote. She didn't bother hiding that she missed him, of course, but she never wanted him to know how she spent more nights alone in her bed missing him and worrying about him than she did sleeping.

Edited 2012-06-10 05:26 (UTC)

He kissed the top of her head and curled his fingers to hold hers. "I know, babe. I'm glad I'm here for good now, too." There was always a part of him that missed it, that kept seeing all of this as temporary, just a reprieve before he was back in the field, driving along in a sardine can with wheels that smelled like three days of ballsweat and chew, laughing and singing and shooting at people and trying not to die. It seemed like for every thing he hated about it, there was something he loved, too.

But that feeling was fading, a little more every day, as this became more permanent in his mind. Feeling Brooke laying against him was one of the things that anchored him here. He sighed, feeling so content it was verging on obscene. "You know what's going to happen now, though, don't you?" His voice lowered, a mock-whisper of horror. "We're going to settle down, and I'm going to work 9-to-5, and get a beer belly, and start wearing short-sleeve button-ups, and thirty years from now, we'll be spending our Friday nights watching Wheel of Fortune." He clutched at her. "Wheel of Fortune, babe. Can you live with that?"

Thirty years from now. Settle down. It all sort of echoed in Brooke's head and for a moment, the panic she felt in the pit of her stomach grew to almost terrifying proportions. She knew he was just teasing, of course, but there was still a part of her - no matter how comfortable she felt with him or how easily she could say I love you now - that freaked out at the idea of commitment. Being with him while he was healing helped, as did the accident itself (as sick as that sounded), but she still hadn't completely worked through her issues.

Instead of focusing on them, however, Brooke forced the fear aside as she grabbed the carton from Ray's hand and moved it to the coffee table so she could take hold of both his hands. "I think the question here is," she settled back against him, "Whether or not you're going to be able to live with me letting myself go. I mean, let's face it: I am the hotter one out of the two of us." She squeezed his fingers to let him know she was just teasing - as if her tone didn't give it away - but it was also partially to anchor herself.

Ray was a good man and despite how badly Lucas messed her up, she couldn't keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. She eventually had to let go of her past instead of clinging to it like some messed up security blanket.

Ray could feel her tense up when he said that, and instantly realized he'd let his mouth go a step before his brain again. But Brooke had never been the kind of girl to freak out on the outside, which was good, because while Ray was an expert in many things, figuring out and sharing his emotions was not one of them. If she wanted to move on, he was okay with that.

He reached up with his free hand to pull some of her hair back and kiss her neck. "How far gone are we talking here? 'Cause I could get into a curvier you. A couple curves in particular would be nice..."

That was the thing: Brooke didn't want to move on. The idea hadn't even entered her head, even after that first weekend they spent together, even after she took him to the airport and said goodbye. Something about Ray just made it impossible for her to want anything else, she just needed to take all of this one step at a time. Living with him - uprooting her life and moving across the country so she could take care of him - was a huge thing for her. She wasn't entirely sure she could handle something like that again, not this soon, and the idea of committing to thirty years together felt like that.

And yet, deep down, Brooke found that she really did like the idea. Which probably freaked her out even worse.

Her eyes fell closed and she let out a soft, content hum when he kissed her neck. All the contentment disappeared, however, at what he said and she cast him an offended look over her shoulder. "I guess you won't mind me keeping my curves to myself, then, if you're so unimpressed by them."

Ray made a noise of startled dismay. "Aw, come on, that's not what I meant. Babe, I love your curves. They're perfect." He wrapped both of his arms around her and squeezed her tight. "I was just trying to say I'd never turn down bigger boobs. But I love your boobs just like they are now." He huffed a breath against her shoulder. "They're my best friends. Please don't separate us."

Though she tried to fight it, Brooke couldn't help but laugh at that last part. "Fine. I won't separate you this time." Her arms rested on his as she turned her head to brush her nuzzle her nose against his cheek. "As long as you promise to appreciate all the other parts of my body as much as you do them. It's an all or nothing kind of deal."

"Mmm, I'll appreciate them all night long." He slipped a hand down the front of her body and then down to her thigh, squeezing it lightly. "Your body's going to think it won some kind of award it'll be so appreciated."

Biting her bottom lip, Brooke closed her eyes and took in a slow breath. "Promises, promises." Her legs instinctively parted a bit as she reached back to rest one of her hands on the back of his neck.

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You know what happens after you get out of the military? You get your brains back

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WOW that tag of mine sure was horribly written. orz

lol no it was a thing of great beauty as they all are

pfft whatever

don't whatever me young lady

i will whatever you if i want to!

-.- fine /flops down

/flops on

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