New DS Fic - Not Really Totally Straight That Much At All
Apparently, pre-con estrella is mighty prolific. Huh. Who'd have thunk it.
Anyway, this is for brooklinegirl because it's Ray/Ray, and also because she betaed it, and for lalejandra because I'm going to make her like Ray/Ray if it kills me, which it just might.
Title - Not Really Totally Straight That Much At All
Pairing - Ray/Ray
Size - 21K
Rating - People Come
No summary. Ray/Ray doesn't need a summary. Written because a lot of the time I really do think that Vecchio is straight. And that just makes me want to have Kowalski fuck him over the back of a couch.
Not Really Totally Straight That Much At All
Ray knew he probably shouldn’t. After all, every guy needed a little privacy.
But when he got to the station earlier in the morning, first Welsh said, “You’re late,” and then he said, “They found three bodies floating in the lake this morning. Go get Kowalski and check it out.”
Ray tried to point out that really, he could handle it himself. After all, it was a) Kowalski’s day off and 2) the two of them pretty much couldn’t stand each other, but Welsh just gave Ray that stare - that creepy one he had - and Ray just wound up holding his hands up and saying, “Okay, okay. You’re the boss,” before grabbing his coat and heading back out of the station.
He picked the lock at Kowalski’s apartment (fucking Polack should get some locks worth a shit) and walked around, wrinkling his nose at the mess strewn across the place.
“Kowalski,” Ray called out, before hearing the water running in the bathroom. And Ray knew he shouldn’t - he knew that - but Kowalski was such a sneaky little prick that this was the first time in the six months that they’d been working together that Ray actually had the upper hand.
Sure, Ray had been an altar boy, but he was no fucking saint.
The bathroom door was unlocked, and when Ray turned the doorknob and pushed the door open it barely made a sound. Kowalski was in the shower, singing some stupid song that had been playing on the radio twenty-four hours a day for the past couple of weeks, and Ray shut the door quietly, grinning to himself for a second, before pulling the curtain back as quick as he could.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Kowalski yelped. His head was full of shampoo and he was trying to glare at Ray, but he was skinny and wet and shivering and Ray took one look and doubled over laughing.
“Oh yeah, you’re a real fucking laugh riot, Vecchio,” Kowalski drawled, grabbing the shower curtain and pulling it back in front of him. “Hardy ha ha.”
“Aww, but you look so pretty, Stanley,” Ray said, still laughing a little. Yeah, definitely not nice, but funny as hell.
“Asshole,” Kowalski muttered. Ray pushed the door open to let some of the steam out, and sat on the lid Kowalski’s bowl, stretching his legs out in front of him. The water shut off a minute or so later, and when he saw Kowalski reach his hand out to grab a towel off the rack, he had to physically stop himself from grabbing it and tossing it out into the hall.
Which would have been, you know, funny, but also, quite possibly the thing that would send Kowalski’s mood from “mildly irritated” to “murderous.”
“What the fuck are you doing here, anyway?” Kowalski asked as he stepped out of the shower, rubbing a towel roughly over his head.
“Body number one, two, and three down in the lake,” Ray answered, pulling the second towel off the rack and tossing it at Kowalski’s head. Kowalski narrowed his eyes and glared at Ray, wrapping the new towel around his waist and letting the one from his hair hang loose around his neck.
“I got a day off, Vecchio,” he said, stepping over Ray’s legs and walking across the hall into his bedroom. “Maybe I have plans.”
Ray snorted. “And maybe I got here on the Queen Mary. Or - I know - better yet - flew here on my big, white, glittery wings.”
“Yeah, that’d make sense,” Ray heard Kowalski mumble. Ray stood up and wandered across the hall, watching as Kowalski pulled a ratty t-shirt over his head before tucking it into a pair of jeans that went out of style around the time of tie-dye and bellbottoms. He grabbed his holster though, and unlocked the drawer that Ray had seen him stash his gun in once or twice, so complaining or not, Kowalski was coming.
Ray leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, and watched as Kowalski checked the safety of his gun and shoved it in the holster. The guy might be an asshole, but he was a good cop, not that Ray was going to go telling him that anytime soon.
“What’s the deal with the bodies?” Kowalski asked, as he squirted some gel into the palm of his hand before working it through his hair. It was like working with a fucking woman sometimes, not that Ray had anything against them of course. Ray liked women just fine. It was just that, what with all his hair stuff and accessories (like that bracelet. Fucking thing, if it wasn’t on Kowalski’s wrist then he was sucking a few of the beads into his mouth, usually when he was thinking about something, and Ray would watch and his teeth would hurt because, gross. Metal, asshole.) Kowalski could make himself so damn pretty sometimes.
Not that Ray thought about Kowalski like that. Not really. Just - a guy had to wonder, you know? A guy hears rumors and stories and see things, and maybe he should know all about the guy who’s his new partner. The guy who’s supposed to have his back from now on.
But maybe a guy doesn’t really need to know all those things. Like why his new partners’ marriage had maybe split up. Or what, exactly, his new partner had been doing all those months up in the great frozen wilderness with his ex-partner.
Maybe a guy hears things and kind of…tunes out the things that would make his life more difficult. Maybe a guy’s had enough difficult shit already. Maybe he just wants to fucking relax.
So Ray watched Kowalski finish getting ready, and when he turned around and smiled at Ray, Ray dropped his head because there’s lots of stuff about Kowalski that maybe he just doesn’t want to know.
“Let’s go, Princess,” Ray called over his shoulder, knowing it would piss Kowalski off. “I’ll fill you in on the way there.”
*
The bodies turned out to not only be floating in the river, but shot in the head too, and by the time Ray and Kowalski got there the place was crawling with more cops and detectives than a doughnut convention.
“This place is a fucking zoo,” Kowalski said, slipping a pair of sunglasses on.
Ray nodded and ducked under the caution tape, holding it up for Kowalski to pass underneath with him. “I was thinking more along the lines of a circus, myself.”
Kowalski flashed him a quick grin and shook out his shoulders. He clapped his hands together once then rubbed his palms together really quick, the flash of that silver bracelet peeking out from under the cuff of his leather jacket. “So who gets to be the ringmaster this time,” he said, jerking his head toward the chaos, “You or me?”
Ray didn’t mean too, but he found himself smiling back. “Oh, by all means,” Ray said, rolling his arm in a flourish, “After you.”
*
One of the benefits of being Languistini for a while was that now whenever Ray needed something, he’d just find whichever guy was likely to be either intimidated or impressed by his old mobbing days, and use that to his advantage. So when Kowalski went off one way, Ray went the other, and by the time they met back up twenty minutes later they had pretty much all the information they needed.
“I got the names of the DOAs,” Kowalski said smugly.
“Oh yeah?” Ray said as they wandered back over to the edge of the crowd. “Well I got the time of death.”
“Huh,” Kowalski said, pulling a toothpick from his pocket and slipping it between his teeth. “Well I got the murder weapon.”
Ray nodded. That was pretty impressive, all right. “Yeah, well I got the motive.”
“Hey, that’s cool,” Kowalski said, actually sounding impressed. “How’d you manage that?”
“Eh, you know,” Ray answered, rolling his shoulders. “People tell me things.”
Kowalski stopped walking and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Uh huh,” he said slowly, grinning way too damn smug for Ray’s liking. “They tell you things, or they tell Armando things?
Ray ignored him and pushed past, and this time when he got to the caution tape he just passed under and let it fall. Fuck Kowalski.
“You should try the Stella angle with the ladies,” Kowalski said from behind him, and Ray whirled around, nearly knocking the Polack down he was so far up Ray’s ass.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Ray’s teeth were clenched and his hands were balled into fists.
“Hey, hey. Settle down,” Kowalski said, holding his hands palms up in front of him. “All I meant was sometimes people feel bad if you play the newly divorced angle.” Kowalski lifted one shoulder in a shrug and Ray looked away. “It worked for me.”
“Yeah, well maybe I’m not in the mood for it to work for me, Kowalski.” Ray got to the car and unlocked the door. Jesus - didn’t the guy ever shut the fuck up? “You ever think of that?”
“I do now,” Kowalski muttered.
Ray narrowed his eyes, “Excuse me?”
“And oh, by the way,” Kowalski said, ignoring him. “I got an eyewitness.”
Ray stared at Kowalski from across the top of the car. Kowalski grinned around the toothpick, and Ray wanted nothing more than to smash his fist into Kowalski’s nose. “So, what,” Ray said, waving a hand in the air. “What do you got that works so good now, huh?”
Kowalski cracked his neck. “Secret weapon,” he said as he climbed into the car. “I just tell them I’m the guy that used to work with the Mountie.”
Ray stood there for a minute with his teeth clenched, listening to Kowalski laugh, before he got in the car.
*
By the time they questioned the witnesses, and went down to the precinct (“Oh, look at this,” Welsh had drawled. “My two favorite detectives in one place - working. Be still my heart.”) and filled out the reports it was close to three o’clock and Ray was starving.
“You hungry?” he asked Kowalski, who was sitting on the corner of Ray’s desk, chewing on another toothpick. “Or are you just gonna chew on some wood all day?”
Kowalski grinned really slow, and laughed low in his throat. “I don’t know, Vecchio,” he said quietly. “You tell me.”
Ray felt the back of his neck get hot and he bent down, jerking the bottom desk drawer open harder than necessary. “I was thinking of heading to the diner,” he said, ignoring the way he could feel Kowalski looking at him. “If you want to come.”
No one said anything. And no one said anything. Ray was pissed, because hello, asshole. He was just being nice here, right? He slammed the drawer shut and stood up, ready to tell Kowalski he could just shove it, and go eat a pack of Twinkies for lunch, for all Ray cared, when Kowalski grinned around the toothpick on his mouth and slid off the desk.
“Yeah,” he said, standing so close that Ray had to take a step back. “I could eat.”
*
The diner was crowded, but as soon as then walked in the waitress with the long red hair and the nice ass waved them to a table in the back. Ray was excited for a minute - hey, maybe she remembered him from the last---
But then she was smiling a little too wide and leaning a little too far forward when she filled Kowalski’s coffee cup to have any interest in Ray.
Kowalski leaned back in his seat, and it was like - was the guy made of jell-o or something? “Ever hear of sitting up straight?” Ray sneered, picking up his menu. The cover stuck to the first page so Ray skipped it. He had a feeling he didn’t really want whatever was on there anyway.
“Excuse me?” he heard Kowalski say.
“You know,” Ray said, slamming the menu back down on the table. “Sitting up straight. Like a normal human. Not like…” He jerked his head toward Kowalski’s loose-limbed sprawl. Not like you’re waiting to get fucked, was what was in Ray’s head, not that he’d ever say that. “Not like some goumba, or something.”
One side of Kowalski’s lip curled into a half-smile, and he seemed to slouch ever further into the seat, if that was possible. “Well if that ain’t the pot calling the kettle.”
Ray grabbed his menu again. He must have been drunk to see if Kowalski wanted to get something to eat with him. Who needed this aggravation?
“Whatever, Princess. Do you know what you want?”
Kowalski laughed quietly and Ray looked up. “Yeah,” Kowalski said. He leaned forward and Ray leaned back. Maybe he liked it better when Kowalski wasn’t quite so close. “I know what I want.”
*
See, the smart thing would have been for Ray to just leave when he dropped Kowalski off at his apartment. Let the guy enjoy even a little of his day off.
But when Ray pulled the car up in front of Kowalski’s building, he leaned against the door for a second and didn’t get out. “There’s a game on tonight,” Kowalski said, nodding his head towards the building. “In case you’re…”
Ray shrugged. “I got no plans.”
Which was how Ray wound up with his shoes off and his feet on Kowalski’s coffee table, a beer in his hand, watching the Bulls game.
Kowalski was sitting next to him ( sitting. Ha. Like that could ever be called sitting), a beer dangling loosely from between his fingers, and every time he took a sip, Ray could hear him swallowing. He could see Kowalski’s throat moving, could hear him exhaling every time he took a breath.
Ray finished the rest of his beer in one long swallow and leaned forward, dropping the bottle on the coffee table.
“So, yeah. I think I’m gonna-“
“Lemme ask you something,” Kowalski said, leaning forward and moving so he was closer to Ray on the couch. Ray wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and looked at the TV. Bulls were down in the third quarter, but it looked like maybe they might be coming back-
“The way you’ve been looking at me lately,” Kowalski said, his voice low. “That mean anything?” He leaned forward and put his bottle next to Ray’s on the table, so close, the glass from the two bottles were touching. Ray turned his head but when he saw Kowalski looking at him, he forgot what he was going to say.
He looked back toward the TV and swallowed hard. “Nope.”
Ray could see Kowalski nodding his head from the corner of his eye. “All right. I can see that.”
Which was great - Kowalski totally got it. Ray wasn’t looking, he was just looking. Kind of wondering and---
Kowalski’s hand gripped Ray’s thigh so hard Ray jumped, and he looked up, because hey, what the fuck was the guy doing - and then Ray was being pushed back, Kowalski was half on top of him on the couch, and the last thing he saw before Kowalski kissed him were his blue eyes, crinkled at the corners and looking so damn smug.
“What the fuck-“ but Kowalski’s tongue was in his mouth, his one hand was at Ray’s waist and the other was pressing his shoulder down and back against the cushions. Ray didn’t do this - not with guys, not ever - and he knew that was important to tell Kowalski. The guy had a right to know.
But Jesus fuck was he a good kisser. Kowalski kissed like he drank beer and slouched at a diner and chased a suspect. With his entire body leaning into it, his hands on Ray’s body, his mouth pulling away from Ray’s, dropping to his throat, across his collarbone, and-
“Kowalski, quit it,” Ray panted, pushing against Kowalski’s chest. This was crazy. Totally crazy, fucked up, and Ray just - he needed a minute here. He needed to tell Kowalski that hey, thanks, but sorry, he didn’t swing that way. (Because he didn’t, Ray never swung that way and he wasn’t going to start now. That was crazy, right?)
“What?” Kowalski asked, holding himself over Ray’s body. Ray slid his leg along the inside of the couch and Kowalski shifted and braced his hands on either of Ray’s shoulders.
“I just, I don’t,” but even as he said it, Ray was pressing his leg against Kowalski’s, dragging his heel along the couch cushions and bumping his knee into the inside of Kowalski’s calf. “I’m not-“
“Relax, Vecchio,” Kowalski said, dipping his head and biting Ray’s shoulder through his shirt. “It’s cool.”
And just - Ray had no idea what the fuck was going on. It was like every fucking thing he ever knew in his life just got zapped from his brain in the span of twenty minutes in Kowalski’s apartment. (Which was such a crock of shit, he told himself. He knew why he looked at Kowalski, and so did Kowalski, so who the fuck did Ray think he was kidding?)
“Hey,” Kowalski said, and Ray looked up. Kowalski was looking at him and smiling faintly. “Don’t worry. It doesn’t have to mean anything. At all.”
Ray stared at Kowalski in silence, then let out the breath he was holding and grabbed the back of Kowalski’s shirt pulling him down. Because, okay. He could do something that didn’t mean anything. He could do that real well.
Kowalski kissed him again, and this time Ray kissed back. He let Kowalski take control, let him press Ray back into the cushions of the couch. Kowalski’s fingers flicked open the buttons of Ray’s shirt, and then his hands were sliding inside, moving over his skin, pushing his shirt off his shoulders.
“You ever done this before?” Kowalski asked, and Ray just laughed, and shivered as Kowalski's teeth grazed Ray’s nipple. “Do I look like I’ve done this before to you?” Ray said, his voice sounding vaguely strangled.
Kowalski lifted his head and grinned. “Just hang on then,” he said, moving so his hips were aligned with Ray’s.
Ray bit his lip and closed his eyes, because that was…yeah. That was going to pretty much do it for him, if Kowalski kept moving like that, kept rubbing his erection against Ray’s, kept moving his hands all over Ray’s body.
It was different, hell yeah it was different. Hard places where he was used to soft. The press of Kowalski’s dick against his, when Ray was used to pushing against something warm and soft and flat.
But it was good. Fuck was it good. Kowalski sure as hell knew what he was doing, because his hands - god, his fucking hands never stopped moving. They were grabbing Ray's hips and holding him down against the couch as Kowalski pressed himself harder and harder against Ray. They were popping the button on his pants and sliding his zipper down, shoving his pants out of the way, and then his fingers - Jesus fucking Christ - his fingers were wrapped tight around Ray's cock, jerking him slow and steady.
Ray hissed through his teeth. "Holy shit," And then Kowalski - that fucking prick - was laughing, really low in his throat, and sinking his teeth into Ray's neck.
This was crazy - stupid, fucked-up crazy - but holy mother of god, Kowalski tightened his fist and that was it - Ray was coming. Coming so hard his fucking eyeballs hurt. Coming all over his stomach and Kowalski's fingers and his eighty-five dollar fucking silk shirt.
"Yeah, yeah." Kowalski panted in Ray's ear. Ray could feel him opening his own jeans (those stupid fucking ugly-ass jeans) and pushing them down, sliding his cock against Ray's belly and hip, sliding through the come on Ray’s stomach, and god - Kowalski was all hands and fingers and teeth. Ray was shaking, his whole body was one raw nerve and Kowalski dug his fingers into Ray's shoulders and shoved his cock against Ray's hip one last time and came all over him.
Ray panted and looked up at the ceiling. What the fucking fuck...? But then Kowalski was pulling himself up, and kissing Ray again, only this time is was a lot slower. Slower and deeper and Ray ran his hand over the back of Kowalski's hair and pulled him closer. Kowalski was humming into Ray's mouth, panting against him, and Ray thought that maybe this wasn't such a fucked-up idea after all.
*
Ray thought when he got home that night that he'd have all sorts of stupid-ass dreams. Dreams about being in church and having to confess his sins to the father, the son, and the holy ghost. Or even worse, having to confess his sins to his mother. He figured he'd have dreams about someone posting pictures of him and Kowalski in the local paper with a big rainbow over their heads, or about him pulling on a pair of spandex pants and marching in next year's gay pride parade.
Obviously Ray overestimated his brain though, because when he got home he fell into bed and didn't dream about anything at all. And if in the morning he thought he could still taste Kowalski on his lips - well - maybe, in his life, stranger things had happened.
*
The next morning, Ray got to the station, and surprise, surprise, Kowalski was already sitting there, working.
"Well, well," Ray drawled. He hung his coat up and wandered over to where Kowalski was filling out forms at his desk. "Is it a holiday?"
Kowalski smirked, and signed the bottom of the form he was working on with a flourish. "Yeah. It's Shut the Fuck Up, Vecchio day."
Ray rolled his eyes and threw himself in the chair next to Kowalski's desk. He kicked his feet up, and Kowalski looked at him for a second, before smiling and pushing Ray's feet to the floor.
"So," Kowalski said. He leaned back in his chair and twirled a pencil in his fingers. Ray watched him, and thought of those fingers, in his mouth, down his --
"Vecchio."
Ray shook his head. "Yeah?"
Kowalski leaned forward, and grinned at him really slow. "You sleep good last night?"
And sure, maybe Kowalski was being a prick, but Ray could see that he was half-serious, so he smiled and nodded. "Yeah."
"Good, that's..." Kowalski looked kind of relieved, which Ray thought was cool. "That's good."
Ray dropped his head and cleared his throat. “So listen. I was thinking,” he said, and holy shit. Was he really doing this? Really? He looked back up at Kowalski who was watching him with those serious fucking eyes and decided, fuck it. Yeah, he was doing this.
“I was thinking,” Ray continued. “Maybe tonight I’ll come back over. We can watch another game or something.”
Kowalski was just watching him, and then he nodded and smiled slowly. “Yeah. Or something,” he said quietly.
Ray leaned into his chair, kicked his feet back up on the desk, and grinned.
Anyway, this is for brooklinegirl because it's Ray/Ray, and also because she betaed it, and for lalejandra because I'm going to make her like Ray/Ray if it kills me, which it just might.
Title - Not Really Totally Straight That Much At All
Pairing - Ray/Ray
Size - 21K
Rating - People Come
No summary. Ray/Ray doesn't need a summary. Written because a lot of the time I really do think that Vecchio is straight. And that just makes me want to have Kowalski fuck him over the back of a couch.
Not Really Totally Straight That Much At All
Ray knew he probably shouldn’t. After all, every guy needed a little privacy.
But when he got to the station earlier in the morning, first Welsh said, “You’re late,” and then he said, “They found three bodies floating in the lake this morning. Go get Kowalski and check it out.”
Ray tried to point out that really, he could handle it himself. After all, it was a) Kowalski’s day off and 2) the two of them pretty much couldn’t stand each other, but Welsh just gave Ray that stare - that creepy one he had - and Ray just wound up holding his hands up and saying, “Okay, okay. You’re the boss,” before grabbing his coat and heading back out of the station.
He picked the lock at Kowalski’s apartment (fucking Polack should get some locks worth a shit) and walked around, wrinkling his nose at the mess strewn across the place.
“Kowalski,” Ray called out, before hearing the water running in the bathroom. And Ray knew he shouldn’t - he knew that - but Kowalski was such a sneaky little prick that this was the first time in the six months that they’d been working together that Ray actually had the upper hand.
Sure, Ray had been an altar boy, but he was no fucking saint.
The bathroom door was unlocked, and when Ray turned the doorknob and pushed the door open it barely made a sound. Kowalski was in the shower, singing some stupid song that had been playing on the radio twenty-four hours a day for the past couple of weeks, and Ray shut the door quietly, grinning to himself for a second, before pulling the curtain back as quick as he could.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Kowalski yelped. His head was full of shampoo and he was trying to glare at Ray, but he was skinny and wet and shivering and Ray took one look and doubled over laughing.
“Oh yeah, you’re a real fucking laugh riot, Vecchio,” Kowalski drawled, grabbing the shower curtain and pulling it back in front of him. “Hardy ha ha.”
“Aww, but you look so pretty, Stanley,” Ray said, still laughing a little. Yeah, definitely not nice, but funny as hell.
“Asshole,” Kowalski muttered. Ray pushed the door open to let some of the steam out, and sat on the lid Kowalski’s bowl, stretching his legs out in front of him. The water shut off a minute or so later, and when he saw Kowalski reach his hand out to grab a towel off the rack, he had to physically stop himself from grabbing it and tossing it out into the hall.
Which would have been, you know, funny, but also, quite possibly the thing that would send Kowalski’s mood from “mildly irritated” to “murderous.”
“What the fuck are you doing here, anyway?” Kowalski asked as he stepped out of the shower, rubbing a towel roughly over his head.
“Body number one, two, and three down in the lake,” Ray answered, pulling the second towel off the rack and tossing it at Kowalski’s head. Kowalski narrowed his eyes and glared at Ray, wrapping the new towel around his waist and letting the one from his hair hang loose around his neck.
“I got a day off, Vecchio,” he said, stepping over Ray’s legs and walking across the hall into his bedroom. “Maybe I have plans.”
Ray snorted. “And maybe I got here on the Queen Mary. Or - I know - better yet - flew here on my big, white, glittery wings.”
“Yeah, that’d make sense,” Ray heard Kowalski mumble. Ray stood up and wandered across the hall, watching as Kowalski pulled a ratty t-shirt over his head before tucking it into a pair of jeans that went out of style around the time of tie-dye and bellbottoms. He grabbed his holster though, and unlocked the drawer that Ray had seen him stash his gun in once or twice, so complaining or not, Kowalski was coming.
Ray leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, and watched as Kowalski checked the safety of his gun and shoved it in the holster. The guy might be an asshole, but he was a good cop, not that Ray was going to go telling him that anytime soon.
“What’s the deal with the bodies?” Kowalski asked, as he squirted some gel into the palm of his hand before working it through his hair. It was like working with a fucking woman sometimes, not that Ray had anything against them of course. Ray liked women just fine. It was just that, what with all his hair stuff and accessories (like that bracelet. Fucking thing, if it wasn’t on Kowalski’s wrist then he was sucking a few of the beads into his mouth, usually when he was thinking about something, and Ray would watch and his teeth would hurt because, gross. Metal, asshole.) Kowalski could make himself so damn pretty sometimes.
Not that Ray thought about Kowalski like that. Not really. Just - a guy had to wonder, you know? A guy hears rumors and stories and see things, and maybe he should know all about the guy who’s his new partner. The guy who’s supposed to have his back from now on.
But maybe a guy doesn’t really need to know all those things. Like why his new partners’ marriage had maybe split up. Or what, exactly, his new partner had been doing all those months up in the great frozen wilderness with his ex-partner.
Maybe a guy hears things and kind of…tunes out the things that would make his life more difficult. Maybe a guy’s had enough difficult shit already. Maybe he just wants to fucking relax.
So Ray watched Kowalski finish getting ready, and when he turned around and smiled at Ray, Ray dropped his head because there’s lots of stuff about Kowalski that maybe he just doesn’t want to know.
“Let’s go, Princess,” Ray called over his shoulder, knowing it would piss Kowalski off. “I’ll fill you in on the way there.”
*
The bodies turned out to not only be floating in the river, but shot in the head too, and by the time Ray and Kowalski got there the place was crawling with more cops and detectives than a doughnut convention.
“This place is a fucking zoo,” Kowalski said, slipping a pair of sunglasses on.
Ray nodded and ducked under the caution tape, holding it up for Kowalski to pass underneath with him. “I was thinking more along the lines of a circus, myself.”
Kowalski flashed him a quick grin and shook out his shoulders. He clapped his hands together once then rubbed his palms together really quick, the flash of that silver bracelet peeking out from under the cuff of his leather jacket. “So who gets to be the ringmaster this time,” he said, jerking his head toward the chaos, “You or me?”
Ray didn’t mean too, but he found himself smiling back. “Oh, by all means,” Ray said, rolling his arm in a flourish, “After you.”
*
One of the benefits of being Languistini for a while was that now whenever Ray needed something, he’d just find whichever guy was likely to be either intimidated or impressed by his old mobbing days, and use that to his advantage. So when Kowalski went off one way, Ray went the other, and by the time they met back up twenty minutes later they had pretty much all the information they needed.
“I got the names of the DOAs,” Kowalski said smugly.
“Oh yeah?” Ray said as they wandered back over to the edge of the crowd. “Well I got the time of death.”
“Huh,” Kowalski said, pulling a toothpick from his pocket and slipping it between his teeth. “Well I got the murder weapon.”
Ray nodded. That was pretty impressive, all right. “Yeah, well I got the motive.”
“Hey, that’s cool,” Kowalski said, actually sounding impressed. “How’d you manage that?”
“Eh, you know,” Ray answered, rolling his shoulders. “People tell me things.”
Kowalski stopped walking and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Uh huh,” he said slowly, grinning way too damn smug for Ray’s liking. “They tell you things, or they tell Armando things?
Ray ignored him and pushed past, and this time when he got to the caution tape he just passed under and let it fall. Fuck Kowalski.
“You should try the Stella angle with the ladies,” Kowalski said from behind him, and Ray whirled around, nearly knocking the Polack down he was so far up Ray’s ass.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Ray’s teeth were clenched and his hands were balled into fists.
“Hey, hey. Settle down,” Kowalski said, holding his hands palms up in front of him. “All I meant was sometimes people feel bad if you play the newly divorced angle.” Kowalski lifted one shoulder in a shrug and Ray looked away. “It worked for me.”
“Yeah, well maybe I’m not in the mood for it to work for me, Kowalski.” Ray got to the car and unlocked the door. Jesus - didn’t the guy ever shut the fuck up? “You ever think of that?”
“I do now,” Kowalski muttered.
Ray narrowed his eyes, “Excuse me?”
“And oh, by the way,” Kowalski said, ignoring him. “I got an eyewitness.”
Ray stared at Kowalski from across the top of the car. Kowalski grinned around the toothpick, and Ray wanted nothing more than to smash his fist into Kowalski’s nose. “So, what,” Ray said, waving a hand in the air. “What do you got that works so good now, huh?”
Kowalski cracked his neck. “Secret weapon,” he said as he climbed into the car. “I just tell them I’m the guy that used to work with the Mountie.”
Ray stood there for a minute with his teeth clenched, listening to Kowalski laugh, before he got in the car.
*
By the time they questioned the witnesses, and went down to the precinct (“Oh, look at this,” Welsh had drawled. “My two favorite detectives in one place - working. Be still my heart.”) and filled out the reports it was close to three o’clock and Ray was starving.
“You hungry?” he asked Kowalski, who was sitting on the corner of Ray’s desk, chewing on another toothpick. “Or are you just gonna chew on some wood all day?”
Kowalski grinned really slow, and laughed low in his throat. “I don’t know, Vecchio,” he said quietly. “You tell me.”
Ray felt the back of his neck get hot and he bent down, jerking the bottom desk drawer open harder than necessary. “I was thinking of heading to the diner,” he said, ignoring the way he could feel Kowalski looking at him. “If you want to come.”
No one said anything. And no one said anything. Ray was pissed, because hello, asshole. He was just being nice here, right? He slammed the drawer shut and stood up, ready to tell Kowalski he could just shove it, and go eat a pack of Twinkies for lunch, for all Ray cared, when Kowalski grinned around the toothpick on his mouth and slid off the desk.
“Yeah,” he said, standing so close that Ray had to take a step back. “I could eat.”
*
The diner was crowded, but as soon as then walked in the waitress with the long red hair and the nice ass waved them to a table in the back. Ray was excited for a minute - hey, maybe she remembered him from the last---
But then she was smiling a little too wide and leaning a little too far forward when she filled Kowalski’s coffee cup to have any interest in Ray.
Kowalski leaned back in his seat, and it was like - was the guy made of jell-o or something? “Ever hear of sitting up straight?” Ray sneered, picking up his menu. The cover stuck to the first page so Ray skipped it. He had a feeling he didn’t really want whatever was on there anyway.
“Excuse me?” he heard Kowalski say.
“You know,” Ray said, slamming the menu back down on the table. “Sitting up straight. Like a normal human. Not like…” He jerked his head toward Kowalski’s loose-limbed sprawl. Not like you’re waiting to get fucked, was what was in Ray’s head, not that he’d ever say that. “Not like some goumba, or something.”
One side of Kowalski’s lip curled into a half-smile, and he seemed to slouch ever further into the seat, if that was possible. “Well if that ain’t the pot calling the kettle.”
Ray grabbed his menu again. He must have been drunk to see if Kowalski wanted to get something to eat with him. Who needed this aggravation?
“Whatever, Princess. Do you know what you want?”
Kowalski laughed quietly and Ray looked up. “Yeah,” Kowalski said. He leaned forward and Ray leaned back. Maybe he liked it better when Kowalski wasn’t quite so close. “I know what I want.”
*
See, the smart thing would have been for Ray to just leave when he dropped Kowalski off at his apartment. Let the guy enjoy even a little of his day off.
But when Ray pulled the car up in front of Kowalski’s building, he leaned against the door for a second and didn’t get out. “There’s a game on tonight,” Kowalski said, nodding his head towards the building. “In case you’re…”
Ray shrugged. “I got no plans.”
Which was how Ray wound up with his shoes off and his feet on Kowalski’s coffee table, a beer in his hand, watching the Bulls game.
Kowalski was sitting next to him ( sitting. Ha. Like that could ever be called sitting), a beer dangling loosely from between his fingers, and every time he took a sip, Ray could hear him swallowing. He could see Kowalski’s throat moving, could hear him exhaling every time he took a breath.
Ray finished the rest of his beer in one long swallow and leaned forward, dropping the bottle on the coffee table.
“So, yeah. I think I’m gonna-“
“Lemme ask you something,” Kowalski said, leaning forward and moving so he was closer to Ray on the couch. Ray wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and looked at the TV. Bulls were down in the third quarter, but it looked like maybe they might be coming back-
“The way you’ve been looking at me lately,” Kowalski said, his voice low. “That mean anything?” He leaned forward and put his bottle next to Ray’s on the table, so close, the glass from the two bottles were touching. Ray turned his head but when he saw Kowalski looking at him, he forgot what he was going to say.
He looked back toward the TV and swallowed hard. “Nope.”
Ray could see Kowalski nodding his head from the corner of his eye. “All right. I can see that.”
Which was great - Kowalski totally got it. Ray wasn’t looking, he was just looking. Kind of wondering and---
Kowalski’s hand gripped Ray’s thigh so hard Ray jumped, and he looked up, because hey, what the fuck was the guy doing - and then Ray was being pushed back, Kowalski was half on top of him on the couch, and the last thing he saw before Kowalski kissed him were his blue eyes, crinkled at the corners and looking so damn smug.
“What the fuck-“ but Kowalski’s tongue was in his mouth, his one hand was at Ray’s waist and the other was pressing his shoulder down and back against the cushions. Ray didn’t do this - not with guys, not ever - and he knew that was important to tell Kowalski. The guy had a right to know.
But Jesus fuck was he a good kisser. Kowalski kissed like he drank beer and slouched at a diner and chased a suspect. With his entire body leaning into it, his hands on Ray’s body, his mouth pulling away from Ray’s, dropping to his throat, across his collarbone, and-
“Kowalski, quit it,” Ray panted, pushing against Kowalski’s chest. This was crazy. Totally crazy, fucked up, and Ray just - he needed a minute here. He needed to tell Kowalski that hey, thanks, but sorry, he didn’t swing that way. (Because he didn’t, Ray never swung that way and he wasn’t going to start now. That was crazy, right?)
“What?” Kowalski asked, holding himself over Ray’s body. Ray slid his leg along the inside of the couch and Kowalski shifted and braced his hands on either of Ray’s shoulders.
“I just, I don’t,” but even as he said it, Ray was pressing his leg against Kowalski’s, dragging his heel along the couch cushions and bumping his knee into the inside of Kowalski’s calf. “I’m not-“
“Relax, Vecchio,” Kowalski said, dipping his head and biting Ray’s shoulder through his shirt. “It’s cool.”
And just - Ray had no idea what the fuck was going on. It was like every fucking thing he ever knew in his life just got zapped from his brain in the span of twenty minutes in Kowalski’s apartment. (Which was such a crock of shit, he told himself. He knew why he looked at Kowalski, and so did Kowalski, so who the fuck did Ray think he was kidding?)
“Hey,” Kowalski said, and Ray looked up. Kowalski was looking at him and smiling faintly. “Don’t worry. It doesn’t have to mean anything. At all.”
Ray stared at Kowalski in silence, then let out the breath he was holding and grabbed the back of Kowalski’s shirt pulling him down. Because, okay. He could do something that didn’t mean anything. He could do that real well.
Kowalski kissed him again, and this time Ray kissed back. He let Kowalski take control, let him press Ray back into the cushions of the couch. Kowalski’s fingers flicked open the buttons of Ray’s shirt, and then his hands were sliding inside, moving over his skin, pushing his shirt off his shoulders.
“You ever done this before?” Kowalski asked, and Ray just laughed, and shivered as Kowalski's teeth grazed Ray’s nipple. “Do I look like I’ve done this before to you?” Ray said, his voice sounding vaguely strangled.
Kowalski lifted his head and grinned. “Just hang on then,” he said, moving so his hips were aligned with Ray’s.
Ray bit his lip and closed his eyes, because that was…yeah. That was going to pretty much do it for him, if Kowalski kept moving like that, kept rubbing his erection against Ray’s, kept moving his hands all over Ray’s body.
It was different, hell yeah it was different. Hard places where he was used to soft. The press of Kowalski’s dick against his, when Ray was used to pushing against something warm and soft and flat.
But it was good. Fuck was it good. Kowalski sure as hell knew what he was doing, because his hands - god, his fucking hands never stopped moving. They were grabbing Ray's hips and holding him down against the couch as Kowalski pressed himself harder and harder against Ray. They were popping the button on his pants and sliding his zipper down, shoving his pants out of the way, and then his fingers - Jesus fucking Christ - his fingers were wrapped tight around Ray's cock, jerking him slow and steady.
Ray hissed through his teeth. "Holy shit," And then Kowalski - that fucking prick - was laughing, really low in his throat, and sinking his teeth into Ray's neck.
This was crazy - stupid, fucked-up crazy - but holy mother of god, Kowalski tightened his fist and that was it - Ray was coming. Coming so hard his fucking eyeballs hurt. Coming all over his stomach and Kowalski's fingers and his eighty-five dollar fucking silk shirt.
"Yeah, yeah." Kowalski panted in Ray's ear. Ray could feel him opening his own jeans (those stupid fucking ugly-ass jeans) and pushing them down, sliding his cock against Ray's belly and hip, sliding through the come on Ray’s stomach, and god - Kowalski was all hands and fingers and teeth. Ray was shaking, his whole body was one raw nerve and Kowalski dug his fingers into Ray's shoulders and shoved his cock against Ray's hip one last time and came all over him.
Ray panted and looked up at the ceiling. What the fucking fuck...? But then Kowalski was pulling himself up, and kissing Ray again, only this time is was a lot slower. Slower and deeper and Ray ran his hand over the back of Kowalski's hair and pulled him closer. Kowalski was humming into Ray's mouth, panting against him, and Ray thought that maybe this wasn't such a fucked-up idea after all.
*
Ray thought when he got home that night that he'd have all sorts of stupid-ass dreams. Dreams about being in church and having to confess his sins to the father, the son, and the holy ghost. Or even worse, having to confess his sins to his mother. He figured he'd have dreams about someone posting pictures of him and Kowalski in the local paper with a big rainbow over their heads, or about him pulling on a pair of spandex pants and marching in next year's gay pride parade.
Obviously Ray overestimated his brain though, because when he got home he fell into bed and didn't dream about anything at all. And if in the morning he thought he could still taste Kowalski on his lips - well - maybe, in his life, stranger things had happened.
*
The next morning, Ray got to the station, and surprise, surprise, Kowalski was already sitting there, working.
"Well, well," Ray drawled. He hung his coat up and wandered over to where Kowalski was filling out forms at his desk. "Is it a holiday?"
Kowalski smirked, and signed the bottom of the form he was working on with a flourish. "Yeah. It's Shut the Fuck Up, Vecchio day."
Ray rolled his eyes and threw himself in the chair next to Kowalski's desk. He kicked his feet up, and Kowalski looked at him for a second, before smiling and pushing Ray's feet to the floor.
"So," Kowalski said. He leaned back in his chair and twirled a pencil in his fingers. Ray watched him, and thought of those fingers, in his mouth, down his --
"Vecchio."
Ray shook his head. "Yeah?"
Kowalski leaned forward, and grinned at him really slow. "You sleep good last night?"
And sure, maybe Kowalski was being a prick, but Ray could see that he was half-serious, so he smiled and nodded. "Yeah."
"Good, that's..." Kowalski looked kind of relieved, which Ray thought was cool. "That's good."
Ray dropped his head and cleared his throat. “So listen. I was thinking,” he said, and holy shit. Was he really doing this? Really? He looked back up at Kowalski who was watching him with those serious fucking eyes and decided, fuck it. Yeah, he was doing this.
“I was thinking,” Ray continued. “Maybe tonight I’ll come back over. We can watch another game or something.”
Kowalski was just watching him, and then he nodded and smiled slowly. “Yeah. Or something,” he said quietly.
Ray leaned into his chair, kicked his feet back up on the desk, and grinned.