Disclaimer: I don't own The Hills Have Eyes.

Summary: Letch liked making fun of - and not-so-subtly ogling - that particular soldier much more than he should. LetchStump, oneshot. Very, very late birthday present for Berry's Ambitions.

First new oneshot in what seems like forever. I felt rather rusty writing this. I had this planned for the longest time and just now had the time to type it all out. The last bit in this fic is actually inspired by an episode of Friends and a particularly funny interaction between Chandler and Janice, lol. I really hope that Carling (aka Berry's Ambitions) likes this. I know it's pretty late for a birthday present, but I hope you like it nonetheless. And for all you non-birthday peeps, I hope y'all like this too. It's my first venture into the world of HHE slash, and hopefully not my last! Thanks so much for reading, and happy belated birthday, Carling!

Looks Good to Me

The hot New Mexico sun beat down on Letch's brow as he gazed up in wonder at the sight that had been presented him.

Seriously, it was curious and ridiculous at the same time.

He slumped his shoulders a bit and pursed his lips, before calling out, "Hey! The hell you doin'?"

The person currently latched onto the cliffside above him jolted a bit, cursed, and then screamed back, "Shut the fuck up, dude! I'm concentrating here!"

A grin appeared on Letch's face. "You shakin' like a leaf."

"How the fuck d'you know what leaves even look like?" the slender figure shouted back. "You live in the desert."

"Cham's books have pictures."

The man that was referred to as Stump by his comrades shook his head a bit before daring to turn his head to look down at the mutant who was antagonizing him. Letch gave a slight smirk as he watched the thin man start to squirm. It was odd to see him out of his army fatigues, but not unpleasant in the slightest.

"I'll shove Cham's books up your ass if you - "

Rocks started to crumble from beneath Stump's frantic feet. Letch began to snicker unabashedly.

"Watch it," he said, grinning.

"Shut up!"

"And I thought ya said ya was the bes' climber," Letch said. "All talk, I s'pose."

Stump didn't reply, obviously taking what Letch was saying to heart. He started to lower himself down to the ground, inch by inch, long fingers finding handholds, the toes of his boots sinking into the sides of the cliff. Letch crossed his arms and rested all his weight on one leg, cocking one of his hips outward.

Letch's eyes raked down the slim figure of the man as he descended the side of the cliff slowly. Now that he wasn't distracted as much, he was doing better. Though, Letch had to admit, he found a certain sort of pleasure by doing that. By making Stump all flustered and angry. That was possibly one of his favorite things about having the soldiers around.

"For someb'dy nicknamed for a tree, you ain't particularly graceful," Letch called out as one of Stump's footholds gave way and he dangled for a moment, breathing heavily as he flailed uselessly for another purchase.

"My name is Stump, not Willow!" he called. "Dick."

Letch started laughing again at that. There was just something about this human for some reason that really amused him. He was glad his father was six feet under and worm chow, because he really didn't want to think what would have happened to this particular man had Hades still been breathing.

The soldier made his way down the side of the cliff. Only now could Letch see that Stump had no kind of support system whatsoever. No rope, no harness, no pulleys, anything of the sort. For a mutant, that would be no problem, but for a frail human, it was rather unnerving - so unnerving that Letch had a problem admitting that it bothered him.

Stump made it to the last few feet of the cliff. Seeing that he was in the clear now, he leapt down from the side and crashed into the soft-packed sand that had been blown up against the side of the cliff, a result of one too many sandstorms. The sand hadn't been as supportive as Stump thought it, Letch realized, for he immediately thrust out his arms alongside himself as if trying to fly, and wheeled backward.

Letch would deny it if anyone ever asked him about it, but he stepped forward and allowed Stump to fall back into his chest. His strong hands encircled the wiry biceps that made up Stump's arms, and the soldier let out a surprised little exclamation but said nothing else after that.

The mutant allowed his fingers to rub against Stump's skin, sweat slicked and flushed. He could see the muscle in his arm tense, as if this either bothered him or he was trying to restrain himself. Which was rather comical because if Letch's previous experiences with Stump were any indication, he didn't get bothered by anything and he never restrained himself. That was his nature, and it was something that Letch found endlessly fascinating, the lack of filter, the lack of shame.

Letch let a chuckle escape from the back of his throat, deep and resonating. He could feel it vibrating against his chest and pressing it against Stump's back. His eyes focused on a bead of sweat rolling down over the prominent vertebrae at the back of Stump's neck and then disappearing into the collar of his tanktop. Involuntarily, Letch licked his lips and pressed a wayward finger to the nape of his neck as a breath left his lips and brushed against the soldier's hair.

He heard Stump gulp, felt his muscles tense even more beneath his fingers.

"You can let me go now," Stump shakily said, and immediately - reluctantly - Letch's fingers slackened, allowing the thin, tattooed man his freedom.

Letch rolled his head from side to side, earning a few pops and cracks for his efforts, while Stump looked at him as if he had never seen him before in his life.

"Wha'?" Letch asked, raising his arms above his head this time. "Never said I was a 'look don't touch' kinda guy."

Stump's cheeks, flushed and heated from his earlier exertion, brightened even more, the red blossoming beneath his skin like blood spilt on paper.

"I...didn't think..."

Now this was new. Stump not having a snappy comeback? Letch felt rather elated that he had this kind of effect on him.

Stump floundered around for more words, his hands touching the exact same spots on his upper arms where Letch had grabbed him, and his legs shifted oddly. Letch had half a mind to wonder if he should go get Stabber because it looked like Stump was having some kind of mental breakdown. Letch would know - he'd seen Hades have quite a few over the years of his life.

"Um..." Stump finally came out with something that sounded like human speech. "I have to go to the bathroom."

Stump spun around and headed to the mouth of the mines, intent on not looking at Letch as he went.

Which, really, kind of bothered the mutant. He didn't like being ignored, especially not by someone like Stump.

So, without any sense of tact whatsoever, Letch called out, "If ya need a hand, let me know!"

End.