Title: Probably Your Girl
Fandom: Generation Kill
Pairing: Walt Hasser/Ray Person
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2800
Content Notes: Cross-dressing, Marines using ableist/sexist/etc. language, porn

Many thanks to missmollyetc for beta, and to iulia, petra for audiencing, and everyone else who read bits of this and encouraged it.

So the first thing Ray said to Walt's tits was, "Dude, you know I wasn't serious, right?"


Probably Your Girl


Ray let himself into his apartment at the end of the day and found a girl in his kitchen.

She was rummaging through his freezer. In a minute Ray was going to tell her he didn't keep cash there, but he was sort of distracted because she was tall as hell and wearing high heels, so she had to bend a little to look in the freezer, and that meant that her completely amazing ass was sticking out like she didn't want Ray to be able to see anything else, and it was pretty much working. She was wearing a dress that fell just to her knees, and it was a deep, vivid blue, like twenty minutes after sundown in the desert, when the Iraqi sky looked like a special effect. Her legs, beneath it, were creamy-pale and smooth all the way down to the straps of her shoes. She was wearing a little green sweater over her dress, but it stopped above her ass, and Ray's eyes kept gravitating back to that.

He must have made some kind of sound, because she turned around. Ray dragged his eyes up exactly as far as her tits--as milk-smooth and pale and perfect as her calves, framed in blue below and green on either side--and then Walt cleared his throat.

Ray's eyes went the rest of the way up to where Walt was blushing a little and smiling his quietly-pleased-with-himself smile, only shiny with lip gloss. His hair was flattened down so it looked like a pixie-ish girl's haircut, with a bright blue headband. Ray felt his mouth open but no sound came out--all the blood that hadn't been in his dick at the sight of that ass and those tits was headed there because Walt.

Ray adjusted himself without even pretending to be subtle about it--because Walt--and Walt smiled wider. Ray's eyes dropped to Walt's tits again because holy shit Walt had tits. He shifted his hand against his dick and suddenly wondered where Walt's dick was, because as much as he was digging this look, Walt's dick was one of Ray's top five favorite things about him, and he was going to miss it if Walt had gotten really trip-to-Sweden serious about this and it was just gone.

So the first thing Ray said to Walt's tits was, "Dude, you know I wasn't serious, right?"

There was a very abrupt, very fast, forward motion, and Ray got his eyes on Walt's face just in time to register the fact that Walt's pink cheeks had gone red and his smile had vanished before Walt punched him really fucking hard in the center of the chest.

Ray staggered back a little and tried to breathe. Fuck, Walt was tall in those shoes, and he was supernaturally hot when he was both wearing a dress and pissed off. He shook out the hand he'd punched Ray with, and Ray realized he was wearing nail polish, glittering blue and gold.

Ray gasped out, "Wait, did you get a manicure?" at the same time Walt snapped, "What the fuck do you mean you weren't fucking serious?"

Ray opened his mouth to try to answer, but Walt just kept going. "You sent me eighteen emails about this, and you jerked off over it the last six times we were on the phone, and you--I fucking waxed, you asshole!"

Ray actually got a little bit lightheaded from all the blood that wasn't in his brain and oxygen that wasn't anywhere. "This is honest to fucking Christ the hottest thing I have ever seen in my life, I just--are those real? Because I liked original recipe Walt, too, I didn't want you to really--it was just an idea, I didn't--oh God, can I touch them?"

Walt's tits blushed along with the rest of him, Ray realized. Holy fuck, they were really real.

"They're fifty percent duct tape," Walt said. "And I didn't really do all of this just to tell you to keep your hands to yourself, you fucking retarded excuse for a boyfriend."

"Welcome home, by the way," Ray said distractedly, reaching out with both hands to brush the edges of the sweater aside. He glanced up at Walt's face--Walt was smiling a little now, biting his lip like he was trying not to laugh--and Ray grinned and groped Walt through the blue dress. "That really doesn't feel like duct tape, dude."

Walt rolled his eyes. "The tape's just holding everything in place. That's mostly me, and the bra's padded. And you don't have any fucking food in your fridge, asshole."

"We can order stuff," Ray promised. "Walt, can I please just--" and that was as far as Ray got before he took a half step forward and mashed his face into Walt's tits, which were pretty much the perfect height for it.

"I love you so much right now," Ray said into the impossible softness of Walt's cleavage. He still smelled like Walt--like sweat and Ray's soap, actually, which meant Walt had showered and done all of this after he got to Ray's--but he felt like a girl. Ray was kissing Walt's tits and seriously starting to wonder if he hadn't died and gone to unexpectedly pornographic heaven.

His hands slid down to Walt's ribs, which felt like Walt's ribs except covered weirdly closely with the softness of a dress instead of a faded old t-shirt or something. He slid his hands down further, to Walt's ass, which felt exactly like Walt's ass usually did, except--

"Oh God," Ray said, jerking upright again, "are you wearing panties?"

Walt shifted--the movement rubbed his ass into Ray's hands--and said, "For like two more minutes, tops. They look kind of stupid and they're crushing my nuts."

"No, no, oh my God, how could they possibly look stupid," Ray insisted, running his hands down Walt's thighs as he dropped to his knees and pushed Walt's skirt up and--

Okay, so Walt hadn't waxed everywhere (which was good, because Ray only had so much time to make it up to Walt before he was going to have to leave again). There were dark blond curls escaping out of the cute striped panties, which were stretched to what looked like their limit, outlining Walt's dick in silky pink-and-white. Ray looked up and then back at Walt's dick, which he had seen in pretty much every state from borderline-hypothermia to about-to-come-after-an-hour-of-teasing, and this was not a happy Walt at all.

"Seriously?" Ray said, looking up. "Seriously, how are you not turned on at all? Have you seen yourself?"

Walt snorted. "Dude, do you just look at yourself and--no, fuck, nevermind, you probably do."

"I would if I had those tits," Ray said, although he was really kind of distracted by the sight of Walt's dick straining against those panties, and the startling contrast of his pubes against his waxed-smooth thigh.

Walt shifted again and Ray remembered that he was probably also not getting off on this due to having his balls crushed, so in a spirit of helpfulness Ray reached up and started peeling the panties down. Walt let out a relieved noise and spread his legs a little, and Ray stopped with the panties halfway to Walt's knees, staring at the picture they made: that scrap of pink crossing Walt's thighs, his dick swinging free above them and looking that much darker and bigger for the contrast.

Ray leaned in with his mouth open, and Walt's hand slapped down on the top of his head. Ray was already looking up, but Walt got enough of a grip on his hair to tug his head back and force his chin up.

"No," Walt said sternly, shaking Ray slightly. "Not here. If you make me fall down in these shoes I will take them off and beat you to death with them, I am not even kidding."

Ray nodded a little bit, but it took him a few extra seconds to drag his brain away from that image enough to think of an alternative. "Bed?"

Walt looked a little bit squirrelly for the first time, and said, "Um, it's kind of a mess."

"Did you fucking pre-party without me?" Ray demanded, about to get up, except then he had to stop because Walt shifted his hand to Ray's shoulder to steady himself as he shook his ass, getting the panties to drop the rest of the way, only to have them catch on his feet.

Ray leaned down lower--Walt let go of his hair to let him--and started stretching the panties off over Walt's awesome shoes. Walt kept leaning on his shoulder as he lifted first one foot and then the other for Ray to untangle. Walt's toes glittered in the same blue and gold as his fingers, and Ray looked up at him and said solemnly, "No one can question your commitment to sparkle motion."

Walt rolled his eyes. "How about your commitment to sucking my dick after I got all dressed up for you?"

"How about what the fuck did you do to my bedroom?" Ray demanded, and then remembered he'd meant to start calling it our bedroom when Walt came back this time, and then stood up and grabbed Walt's hand to lead him to it. Whatever they called it and whatever Walt had done to it, it was still probably the best place for him to suck Walt's cock without risking injury to anyone.

It wasn't such a mess, exactly, but the bed was half-covered in shopping bags and printed-out pictures and diagrams, plus Ray's laptop, a roll of duct tape, and the clothes Walt must have been wearing when he got here.

Ray shoved everything but the laptop onto the floor with the hand that wasn't holding Walt's, and then tried to twirl Walt over to the bed, which ended in Walt tripping and landing on his ass, skirt flying up to flash Ray before it settled into place.

"That totally doesn't count," Ray insisted, dropping to his knees again and settling his hands on Walt's thighs, just under the edge of the dress. "You landed on the bed, that's not the same as actually falling down."

Walt just sat back, leaning on his hands and looking unimpressed, so Ray figured that was an invitation to convince him that Ray really appreciated him and they didn't need to put off the festivities so Walt could take his shoes off and/or kick Ray's ass. He pushed Walt's skirt up again and tugged Walt a little closer to the edge of the bed.

"Seriously, I don't get how this isn't hot to you," Ray said, ducking his head and nuzzling at the weird, fascinating smoothness of Walt's thigh.

"I mean, doesn't it--" He licked up the inside, right along the line of the muscle, and Walt's legs twitched and Walt caught his breath. Ray grinned but didn't bother looking up to gloat, just licked again and then turned his head and nuzzled on the other side, like maybe Walt's left leg was wondering what it got waxed for if the right got all the attention, slowly working his way higher.

"Okay," Walt said, a little breathless, "that does feel different."

"Uh-huh," Ray said, turning his head to finally get down to business, getting his mouth on Walt's cock. He wasn't all the way hard yet, but Ray liked sucking him like that, feeling him get hard against Ray's tongue. Ray sucked softly at first, just the head in his mouth as he ran his hands up and down the Walt's legs, down his calves to his ankles all criss-crossed in the straps of those shoes, hooking his fingers into the backs of Walt's knees as he slowly, patiently sucked more and more of Walt's cock. The fabric of Walt's skirt brushed against his face as Walt shifted under him, and Ray looked up and realized he couldn't even see Walt's face now, because Walt's tits were in the way.

He groaned out, "That is so fucking hot," around Walt's cock, and Walt sat up a little straighter at the same time his hand came up, smacking Ray lightly on the side of the head.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, you fucking hick," Walt ordered, though his words were all soft-edged, and his hips bucked a little, pushing his dick further into Ray's carefully slack mouth.

Ray moaned without words then, and took one hand off Walt's leg to press against his own dick as he shuddered, because this was impossibly hotter than the stupid fantasy he'd talked and talked and talked about to keep from talking about how fucking much he missed Walt and wanted him home safe. This wasn't some imagined girl with Walt's face, this was Walt, only shiny and soft and sweet, fucking into Ray's mouth in little twitches as his breath stuttered.

Ray closed his eyes and concentrated on doing all the little things Walt liked, hitting all his sweet spots while grinding the heel of his hand against his own dick because he couldn't bear to take it away. He could feel Walt getting close, and he suddenly remembered his newest favorite iteration of the fantasy and pulled off to say, "Hey, you think you could leave this stuff on long enough to fuck me like this?"

"Ray," Walt snapped, sounding shaky and pissed at the same time, and Ray got his mouth back on Walt's dick just in time for him to start coming, spilling into Ray's mouth as he pulled Ray's hair in the same familiar rhythm as always. He let go when he was done, flopping back onto the bed, and Ray pulled off with a last lick that made Walt groan and try to knee him in the head, because he never, ever believed Ray when he pointed out that that angle wasn't going to work.

Ray pushed himself up by Walt's knees and stood between his legs for a second, looking down at him lying there all blissed out and grinning and messed up, his hair starting to spring up from whatever he'd done with it. He was still wearing the little sweater, and he was flushed pink all the way down his tits to the top of his dress, dick hanging out under the skirt all pushed up over his stomach.

Ray climbed onto the bed, straddling him, and leaned down to press a sloppy kiss to Walt's grin.

"Hey, so, welcome home, can I please come on your tits now," Ray said, between licks into Walt's mouth.

Walt pushed his hand under Ray's, feeling him up through his pants, and said, "Why the fuck else do I even have tits?"

Ray raised his head enough to grin, momentarily speechless because yes, exactly, and he didn't know how he'd gotten so lucky that Walt had tits just for him. Walt pushed up onto one elbow and took his hand off Ray's dick to reach behind his own back to undo something. When he shrugged down the straps of the dress Ray pushed up onto his knees, hastily undoing his pants while Walt pulled his sweater off and let the top of his dress fall down to reveal a silky bra--pink and white striped, like the panties, with duct tape peeking out from the bottom against Walt's skin. Ray got distracted by that, reached down to run a finger over the silver.

Walt said, "Later, after I fuck you, rubbing alcohol, Ray, come on." He shook his shoulders, making his tits bounce. Ray grabbed frantically at his dick.

It took another couple of seconds of fumbling, biting his lip not to come in his own pants now, and then his dick was skidding in the valley between Walt's tits, across the silkiness of his bra and his hot sweaty skin. Walt was grinning up at him, looking triumphant, with all his lip gloss kissed and bitten off.

"Walt," Ray gasped, and nothing else. He knew there was something he wanted to be saying about how Walt looked and how he hadn't had to do this and how fucking hot it was that he had, how fucking awesome, and how lucky that made Ray, all these words building up in his throat like the heat building up in his balls, but all he could do was jerk helplessly against Walt, trying to find the way to let something loose.

Walt shifted his weight onto one arm and raised the other, squishing his tits together around the head of Ray's dick as his fingers tangled around Ray's, and Ray came all over him, words falling out of his mouth that he couldn't track at all.

Walt pulled him down for a kiss, and Ray licked come from the corner of his mouth as Walt whispered, "Hey, Ray, welcome home."