[fic: "Better Than Ice Cream", rated R. Kowalski/Vecchio, due South. For snoopypez!]
Title: Better Than Ice Cream
Author Sionnain
Fandom: due South
Pairing: Kowalski/Vecchio
Rating: R
Word Count: 2600
Genre: Established relationship (Snark, sex and snuggling! Um.)
Summary: The power went out in their apartment at approximately 6:43 pm...
AN: For Snoopypez, who is feeling unwell and just traveled halfway across the country today, and who wanted some Ray/Ray fic with the prompts "thunderstorm" and "ice cream". This is awaiting your return home, James! And remember how awesome you are, okay? Okay. I hope you like this! Thanks to waltzforanight for a super-speedy beta and a great title suggestion (which is Sarah Mclachlan's "Ice Cream"). I don't know what I would do without fangirls omg! <3
FYI: Bunny Tracks ice cream is the BOMB, okay. <3
Better Than Ice Cream
The power went out in their apartment at approximately 6:43 pm, when the 'Hawks were closing in on the Red Wings, about to score a game-winning, tie-breaking goal during a power play.
"Goddamn it!" Ray shouted, looking around wildly for something to hit. He settled for Vecchio's arm, but it was a lot nicer of a punch than it would have been if he were punching something else. Like a pillow. Or the wall. "Fuck."
"Stanley," Vecchio said, rubbing his arm and glaring at Ray. "We've been over this, remember? You gotta stop watching sports if it makes you abuse me, Jesus."
"Oh, right, like you didn't almost do the same thing when the Sox blew that lead over the Reds last week," Ray pointed out, but he did feel a little guilty. "Sorry. I know you hate hockey. Prolly won't make you like it if I keep hitting you when it's on, huh."
"Probably not. And I don't hate it, I just wasn't ever that into it. Never got the appeal, to be honest." Vecchio leaned back against the couch and put his hands behind his head, smirking. "Kinda like with you."
"Yeah?" Ray snorted. "And now you can't get enough of it?"
"No, I tolerate it and find it kind of entertaining if nothing else is on," Vecchio responded, barely keeping his laughter in check.
Ray pointed two fingers at him, eyes narrowing. "If you say also like you, I'm gonna--"
"You're gonna what, tough guy?" Vecchio interrupted, leaning closer, his voice pitched low. "Kick me in the head?"
Ray grinned, forgetting about the hockey as he thought of something else they could do while waiting for the power to come on. "Something to do with head, yeah. As in, you not getting any." Ray leaned closer, his mouth right next to Vecchio's.
"You've tried this before, remember? It lasted what, an hour? You're shit with threats that involve withholding sex, Kowalski, and you know it." Vecchio's hands settled warm on his shoulders, pulling him closer. "Better try something else."
"Fine," Ray murmured, deliberately not kissing him. "Then just for that, I'm gonna leave my wet towels on the floor."
"You do that anyway," Vecchio pointed out. He hooked his hand around the back of Ray's neck and pulled him forward, pressing his mouth to Ray's before Ray could move away.
Ray kissed him back, because he really liked kissing Vecchio, and they ended up stretched on the couch with Ray on top. Ray had his tongue in Vecchio's mouth, and he was just starting to get into it when something occurred to him out of nowhere.
"Um, Vecchio?"
"Yeah?" Vecchio had that tone in his voice, the butterscotch-warm one, the one that made it hard for Ray to think right. His hands were under Ray's t-shirt, resting on his back, and that was also really distracting and Vecchio's hips were pushing up, just a little, and okay maybe withholding blowjobs was a stupid idea because Ray liked giving blowjobs, especially to Vecchio, and what had he been so annoyed about, again?
"Kowalski...?"
Oh. Right. He wasn't annoyed, he'd only been kidding about withholding the blowjobs--yay!--but he'd stopped kissing Vecchio for a reason. Ray looked down as he tried to remember what it was, which was also distracting, because Vecchio's eyes were all drowsy and green and pretty--
"Kowalski! If you don't got anything to say, do something else with your mouth and stop staring at me."
"The ice cream," Ray said, blinking. Outside, there was a sudden clap of thunder, and a sudden flash of lightning brightening up the dim apartment before rain started hitting the windows.
Vecchio groaned, his head going back and exposing the long line of his neck and his cross, lying in the hollow of his throat. Ray leaned down to lick, because how was he supposed to do anything else when Vecchio did that, the distracting bastard? "Kowalski. You are--oh--" Ray got the metal in his mouth and started sucking. "--seriously ADD. Ice cream?"
"I got some at the store on the way home. It's gonna melt if the freezer doesn't have power," Ray said around the metal of Vecchio's cross. His words came out kind of mumbled and vague as a result.
Luckily, Vecchio was used to Ray never shutting up, and also talking with things in his mouth. Pencils, lollipops, toothpicks. Vecchio's cross. Vecchio's cock. "You got some sixth sense that's gonna tell us how long the power's gonna be out? 'Cause it's gonna take a while for it to melt, moron." Vecchio shifted, pushing his hips up again, harder than before.
"It's gonna make a mess, is all," Ray said. Vecchio thumped him on the back because--yeah, all right, Ray usually didn't care about things like messes. Ray ducked his head, nipping sharply at Vecchio's neck. "Okay, fine. I got that kind with the little bunnies made out of peanut butter." Ray bit gently at Vecchio's neck, undoing the buttons on his shirt. "Was saving it for after the game."
"Can you save it for after something else?" Vecchio asked, his voice nearing a whine, and Ray grinned and bit a little harder. Vecchio gave a choked groan and shifted beneath Ray.
"Dunno. You know what happens to the bunnies when they get all smushed--"
"Do you know what happens to me when you get on top of me and get me all worked up, and then decide to stop for ice cream?"
Delighted, Ray pulled back and grinned down at Vecchio. "Nope. Tell me. In detail."
Vecchio's hand slipped out from beneath Ray's shirt to the front, fisting in the fabric. "I could show you, if you'd just shut up."
Ray, who had been wriggling his way down Vecchio's body, stopped and looked up with his hand on Vecchio's fly. "You know, we could eat the ice cream first and then have sex."
Vecchio leaned up, staring down at him. He smacked Ray in the back of the head. "What? No. Who even suggests that? Should I be insulted?"
"It's really good ice cream," Ray reminded him, ducking his head to hide his grin as he opened Vecchio's pants. "Ice cream greatness, in fact. It's gonna melt. Your dick isn't."
"Don't be so sure about that. Jesus Christ, Kowalski, I swear I'm gonna--"
Vecchio never finished that, because Ray got his mouth on Vecchio's cock, and whatever Vecchio was gonna do was turned into a rough, low moan.
Ray was trying to keep himself from sliding onto the floor--as it were, his legs were sort of uncomfortably sprawled over the arm of the couch, one foot braced on the floor--as he kept up a steady rhythm, one hand on the base of Vecchio's cock, his mouth moving slowly up and down. That was going well, until Ray started snickering as he swiped his tongue around the head of Vecchio's cock.
"What?" Vecchio went up on his elbows. With the storm, the light in the apartment was too dim to see his face. But Ray had a pretty good idea of what turned-on-and-exasperated-Vecchio looked like. Ray could probably draw that on a canvas, he knew that look so well. Enough for it to be admissible in court, even.
"S'just funny," Ray said, and then quickly added (because you did not laugh while sucking a guy's cock and then use the word funny, not without a damn quick explanation), "We were just talking about ice cream."
"No, you were talking about ice cream--oh, fuck Kowalski, your fucking mouth--I was trying to--Christ, yes--"
Ray licked a long, slow line up Vecchio's cock. "Is funny 'cause I'm licking. You know, like an ice cream cone."
"You're talking, not licking. Here, let me make this less funny for you." Vecchio's fingers went into Ray's hair, his other hand grasping the back of Ray's neck. Vecchio pulled Ray down, his hips pushing up at he same time.
Ray choked just a little, and he smacked his hand lightly on Vecchio's thigh, but he really was being kind of annoying and okay, Ray really liked it when Vecchio fucked his mouth like that, rough and urgent, and Vecchio knew it. Vecchio's fingers were tight in Ray's hair and Vecchio was muttering, saying Christ, yes, you're so fucking good and then descending into Italian, which never failed to get Ray six kinds of turned on, which added to the thirty-six thousand kinds of turned on that he already was--
He had to reach down and fumble with his jeans, getting the top button undone to give himself some relief. Vecchio's fingers tightened so hard in his hair that Ray would have winced if he didn't really, really love that a lot, and Vecchio came with one final, rough shove of his cock in Ray's mouth.
When Ray pulled off, he grinned up at Vecchio and ran his tongue over his bottom lip. "You better be glad I don't mind you doing that, Vecchio. Shoving your cock in a guy's mouth like that might not be buddies, you know."
"It is when it's you, because you're a slut, Kowalski." Vecchio's voice was slow and husky, sated. "C'mere." He tugged at Ray's hair again, trying to get him to move.
Ray crawled up Vecchio's body and kissed him. Vecchio's mouth opened and he rubbed his thumb over the back of Ray's neck, kissing back. Ray pushed against Vecchio with small, insistent thrusts of his hips, reaching down to find Vecchio's hand. He pressed Vecchio's palm against his cock. "My turn."
Vecchio started rubbing, enough to make Ray throw his head back and groan loudly. Vecchio leaned up and started mouthing at just the right place on Ray's neck, the spot that made him shiver and want to thump his foot like a rabbit. Vecchio laughed against his skin, slowly--slooooooooowly--opening the rest of the buttons of Ray's jeans. The laugh made Ray shiver even more.
"You know what I want, Kowalski?" Vecchio asked, right next to Ray's ear, and it was not fair, it was not, he was using his "good cop" voice, the one he used to talk bad guys into confessing and giving up names of even badder guys, the one that made the girl in evidence let them come in even when they were closed, and the guy at the sub shop put extra pepperocinis on his sandwich. Ray loved that voice, and he couldn't see that slow half-smile Vecchio got when he used it, but that was okay, Vecchio was murmuring next to his ear, his fingers wrapped around Ray's cock.
"Mmmm," Ray managed, which wasn't an answer, but that was okay.
"I want," Vecchio murmured, biting Ray's neck and oh Christ, he was not going to last, not with Vecchio's fingers and his voice-- "Come on, Kowalski. Guess."
"You want--harder, yeah--you want to fuck me?" That managed to sound breathless and kind of hopeful--desperate--even to Ray's own ears.
"Do I want to fuck you?" Vecchio repeated against his ear, and okay, that was--Ray might actually blow up from how hot that was--"Always, Kowalski. I want to fuck you at work, when you're in the shower, when you're driving the car, when you're wearing that suit I picked out for you--"
"Nrgh," Ray managed, shivering, his hips pushing forward as he thrust himself faster into the tight circle of Vecchio's fingers. It didn't even matter that Vecchio had just gotten off and couldn't bend him over the couch and fuck him senseless. The image was hot, all those images were hot, and Vecchio talking about it was even hotter, and this was probably going to be over, fast.
"Of course I want to fuck you." Vecchio's tongue traced the inner whirl of his ear as his thumb rubbed over the head of Ray's cock. "But right now, Stanley? Right now I think I want..." Vecchio nipped his ear. "I think I want some ice cream," he said, right as he gave a wicked, totally unfair twist of his hand.
"Hate you," Ray gasped out, body shuddering helplessly. The lightning flashed and Ray saw the unholy, amused grin on Vecchio's face as Ray came over Vecchio's fingers. He put his head down on Vecchio's shoulder when it was over, panting, trying to catch his breath. "Not buddies, Vecchio." His hand flailed out and he tried to hit Vecchio, but he ended up whacking his knuckles on the arm of the couch and that would have hurt, maybe, if not for the mind-numbing orgasm he'd just had.
Vecchio laughed softly, rubbing his hand up and down Ray's back soothingly. "I like you a lot more than hockey, Kowalski."
"I still like the ice cream better than you," Ray answered immediately, but he pressed his mouth against Vecchio's neck to let him know he was kidding. They stood up and went to get changed, bumbling around in the dark. Vecchio almost knocked over a framed picture of the Canadian countryside that Fraser had sent them for a housewarming gift--every time they looked at it, Ray and Vecchio both rubbed at their arms like they were freezing--and Ray stubbed his toe on the door to the bathroom, which involved a lot of cursing and flailing and calling the door a lot of names.
Eventually they found a flashlight and some candles, and while the storm raged outside they made their way into the kitchen to find the ice cream. Once there, Ray saw a bag with a suspiciously ice-cream carton shaped thing inside, sitting forlornly on the counter. He winced. "Um. So maybe I...forgot to put the ice cream in the freezer when I got home."
Vecchio cast his eyes heavenward. "Kowalski. You bought ice cream and didn't put it away?"
"I was in a hurry to watch the game!" Ray took the ice cream carton out of the plastic grocery bag. It was a lot squishier than an ice cream carton should be.
Oops.
Vecchio sighed. "Life with you is an adventure, that's for sure. Sure, it's more like the stuck-in-the-airport-security-line or other travel annoyances kind of adventure, but still."
"Good thing you like to complain, then," Ray said with a wave of his hand. "You'll never run out of stuff to bitch about." He opened the box, examining it critically. "Hey, Vecchio, look. The ice cream's melted, but the little chocolate bunnies are okay!"
"Yeah?" Vecchio peered over Ray's shoulder into the ice-cream soup. "Huh. I'll get a couple of spoons. You get the coffee mugs."
If their life was an adventure, Ray thought later as they ate chocolate bunnies out of mugs filled with melted ice cream, it was a damn good thing they'd found each other to share it with.
Author Sionnain
Fandom: due South
Pairing: Kowalski/Vecchio
Rating: R
Word Count: 2600
Genre: Established relationship (Snark, sex and snuggling! Um.)
Summary: The power went out in their apartment at approximately 6:43 pm...
AN: For Snoopypez, who is feeling unwell and just traveled halfway across the country today, and who wanted some Ray/Ray fic with the prompts "thunderstorm" and "ice cream". This is awaiting your return home, James! And remember how awesome you are, okay? Okay. I hope you like this! Thanks to waltzforanight for a super-speedy beta and a great title suggestion (which is Sarah Mclachlan's "Ice Cream"). I don't know what I would do without fangirls omg! <3
FYI: Bunny Tracks ice cream is the BOMB, okay. <3
Better Than Ice Cream
The power went out in their apartment at approximately 6:43 pm, when the 'Hawks were closing in on the Red Wings, about to score a game-winning, tie-breaking goal during a power play.
"Goddamn it!" Ray shouted, looking around wildly for something to hit. He settled for Vecchio's arm, but it was a lot nicer of a punch than it would have been if he were punching something else. Like a pillow. Or the wall. "Fuck."
"Stanley," Vecchio said, rubbing his arm and glaring at Ray. "We've been over this, remember? You gotta stop watching sports if it makes you abuse me, Jesus."
"Oh, right, like you didn't almost do the same thing when the Sox blew that lead over the Reds last week," Ray pointed out, but he did feel a little guilty. "Sorry. I know you hate hockey. Prolly won't make you like it if I keep hitting you when it's on, huh."
"Probably not. And I don't hate it, I just wasn't ever that into it. Never got the appeal, to be honest." Vecchio leaned back against the couch and put his hands behind his head, smirking. "Kinda like with you."
"Yeah?" Ray snorted. "And now you can't get enough of it?"
"No, I tolerate it and find it kind of entertaining if nothing else is on," Vecchio responded, barely keeping his laughter in check.
Ray pointed two fingers at him, eyes narrowing. "If you say also like you, I'm gonna--"
"You're gonna what, tough guy?" Vecchio interrupted, leaning closer, his voice pitched low. "Kick me in the head?"
Ray grinned, forgetting about the hockey as he thought of something else they could do while waiting for the power to come on. "Something to do with head, yeah. As in, you not getting any." Ray leaned closer, his mouth right next to Vecchio's.
"You've tried this before, remember? It lasted what, an hour? You're shit with threats that involve withholding sex, Kowalski, and you know it." Vecchio's hands settled warm on his shoulders, pulling him closer. "Better try something else."
"Fine," Ray murmured, deliberately not kissing him. "Then just for that, I'm gonna leave my wet towels on the floor."
"You do that anyway," Vecchio pointed out. He hooked his hand around the back of Ray's neck and pulled him forward, pressing his mouth to Ray's before Ray could move away.
Ray kissed him back, because he really liked kissing Vecchio, and they ended up stretched on the couch with Ray on top. Ray had his tongue in Vecchio's mouth, and he was just starting to get into it when something occurred to him out of nowhere.
"Um, Vecchio?"
"Yeah?" Vecchio had that tone in his voice, the butterscotch-warm one, the one that made it hard for Ray to think right. His hands were under Ray's t-shirt, resting on his back, and that was also really distracting and Vecchio's hips were pushing up, just a little, and okay maybe withholding blowjobs was a stupid idea because Ray liked giving blowjobs, especially to Vecchio, and what had he been so annoyed about, again?
"Kowalski...?"
Oh. Right. He wasn't annoyed, he'd only been kidding about withholding the blowjobs--yay!--but he'd stopped kissing Vecchio for a reason. Ray looked down as he tried to remember what it was, which was also distracting, because Vecchio's eyes were all drowsy and green and pretty--
"Kowalski! If you don't got anything to say, do something else with your mouth and stop staring at me."
"The ice cream," Ray said, blinking. Outside, there was a sudden clap of thunder, and a sudden flash of lightning brightening up the dim apartment before rain started hitting the windows.
Vecchio groaned, his head going back and exposing the long line of his neck and his cross, lying in the hollow of his throat. Ray leaned down to lick, because how was he supposed to do anything else when Vecchio did that, the distracting bastard? "Kowalski. You are--oh--" Ray got the metal in his mouth and started sucking. "--seriously ADD. Ice cream?"
"I got some at the store on the way home. It's gonna melt if the freezer doesn't have power," Ray said around the metal of Vecchio's cross. His words came out kind of mumbled and vague as a result.
Luckily, Vecchio was used to Ray never shutting up, and also talking with things in his mouth. Pencils, lollipops, toothpicks. Vecchio's cross. Vecchio's cock. "You got some sixth sense that's gonna tell us how long the power's gonna be out? 'Cause it's gonna take a while for it to melt, moron." Vecchio shifted, pushing his hips up again, harder than before.
"It's gonna make a mess, is all," Ray said. Vecchio thumped him on the back because--yeah, all right, Ray usually didn't care about things like messes. Ray ducked his head, nipping sharply at Vecchio's neck. "Okay, fine. I got that kind with the little bunnies made out of peanut butter." Ray bit gently at Vecchio's neck, undoing the buttons on his shirt. "Was saving it for after the game."
"Can you save it for after something else?" Vecchio asked, his voice nearing a whine, and Ray grinned and bit a little harder. Vecchio gave a choked groan and shifted beneath Ray.
"Dunno. You know what happens to the bunnies when they get all smushed--"
"Do you know what happens to me when you get on top of me and get me all worked up, and then decide to stop for ice cream?"
Delighted, Ray pulled back and grinned down at Vecchio. "Nope. Tell me. In detail."
Vecchio's hand slipped out from beneath Ray's shirt to the front, fisting in the fabric. "I could show you, if you'd just shut up."
Ray, who had been wriggling his way down Vecchio's body, stopped and looked up with his hand on Vecchio's fly. "You know, we could eat the ice cream first and then have sex."
Vecchio leaned up, staring down at him. He smacked Ray in the back of the head. "What? No. Who even suggests that? Should I be insulted?"
"It's really good ice cream," Ray reminded him, ducking his head to hide his grin as he opened Vecchio's pants. "Ice cream greatness, in fact. It's gonna melt. Your dick isn't."
"Don't be so sure about that. Jesus Christ, Kowalski, I swear I'm gonna--"
Vecchio never finished that, because Ray got his mouth on Vecchio's cock, and whatever Vecchio was gonna do was turned into a rough, low moan.
Ray was trying to keep himself from sliding onto the floor--as it were, his legs were sort of uncomfortably sprawled over the arm of the couch, one foot braced on the floor--as he kept up a steady rhythm, one hand on the base of Vecchio's cock, his mouth moving slowly up and down. That was going well, until Ray started snickering as he swiped his tongue around the head of Vecchio's cock.
"What?" Vecchio went up on his elbows. With the storm, the light in the apartment was too dim to see his face. But Ray had a pretty good idea of what turned-on-and-exasperated-Vecchio looked like. Ray could probably draw that on a canvas, he knew that look so well. Enough for it to be admissible in court, even.
"S'just funny," Ray said, and then quickly added (because you did not laugh while sucking a guy's cock and then use the word funny, not without a damn quick explanation), "We were just talking about ice cream."
"No, you were talking about ice cream--oh, fuck Kowalski, your fucking mouth--I was trying to--Christ, yes--"
Ray licked a long, slow line up Vecchio's cock. "Is funny 'cause I'm licking. You know, like an ice cream cone."
"You're talking, not licking. Here, let me make this less funny for you." Vecchio's fingers went into Ray's hair, his other hand grasping the back of Ray's neck. Vecchio pulled Ray down, his hips pushing up at he same time.
Ray choked just a little, and he smacked his hand lightly on Vecchio's thigh, but he really was being kind of annoying and okay, Ray really liked it when Vecchio fucked his mouth like that, rough and urgent, and Vecchio knew it. Vecchio's fingers were tight in Ray's hair and Vecchio was muttering, saying Christ, yes, you're so fucking good and then descending into Italian, which never failed to get Ray six kinds of turned on, which added to the thirty-six thousand kinds of turned on that he already was--
He had to reach down and fumble with his jeans, getting the top button undone to give himself some relief. Vecchio's fingers tightened so hard in his hair that Ray would have winced if he didn't really, really love that a lot, and Vecchio came with one final, rough shove of his cock in Ray's mouth.
When Ray pulled off, he grinned up at Vecchio and ran his tongue over his bottom lip. "You better be glad I don't mind you doing that, Vecchio. Shoving your cock in a guy's mouth like that might not be buddies, you know."
"It is when it's you, because you're a slut, Kowalski." Vecchio's voice was slow and husky, sated. "C'mere." He tugged at Ray's hair again, trying to get him to move.
Ray crawled up Vecchio's body and kissed him. Vecchio's mouth opened and he rubbed his thumb over the back of Ray's neck, kissing back. Ray pushed against Vecchio with small, insistent thrusts of his hips, reaching down to find Vecchio's hand. He pressed Vecchio's palm against his cock. "My turn."
Vecchio started rubbing, enough to make Ray throw his head back and groan loudly. Vecchio leaned up and started mouthing at just the right place on Ray's neck, the spot that made him shiver and want to thump his foot like a rabbit. Vecchio laughed against his skin, slowly--slooooooooowly--opening the rest of the buttons of Ray's jeans. The laugh made Ray shiver even more.
"You know what I want, Kowalski?" Vecchio asked, right next to Ray's ear, and it was not fair, it was not, he was using his "good cop" voice, the one he used to talk bad guys into confessing and giving up names of even badder guys, the one that made the girl in evidence let them come in even when they were closed, and the guy at the sub shop put extra pepperocinis on his sandwich. Ray loved that voice, and he couldn't see that slow half-smile Vecchio got when he used it, but that was okay, Vecchio was murmuring next to his ear, his fingers wrapped around Ray's cock.
"Mmmm," Ray managed, which wasn't an answer, but that was okay.
"I want," Vecchio murmured, biting Ray's neck and oh Christ, he was not going to last, not with Vecchio's fingers and his voice-- "Come on, Kowalski. Guess."
"You want--harder, yeah--you want to fuck me?" That managed to sound breathless and kind of hopeful--desperate--even to Ray's own ears.
"Do I want to fuck you?" Vecchio repeated against his ear, and okay, that was--Ray might actually blow up from how hot that was--"Always, Kowalski. I want to fuck you at work, when you're in the shower, when you're driving the car, when you're wearing that suit I picked out for you--"
"Nrgh," Ray managed, shivering, his hips pushing forward as he thrust himself faster into the tight circle of Vecchio's fingers. It didn't even matter that Vecchio had just gotten off and couldn't bend him over the couch and fuck him senseless. The image was hot, all those images were hot, and Vecchio talking about it was even hotter, and this was probably going to be over, fast.
"Of course I want to fuck you." Vecchio's tongue traced the inner whirl of his ear as his thumb rubbed over the head of Ray's cock. "But right now, Stanley? Right now I think I want..." Vecchio nipped his ear. "I think I want some ice cream," he said, right as he gave a wicked, totally unfair twist of his hand.
"Hate you," Ray gasped out, body shuddering helplessly. The lightning flashed and Ray saw the unholy, amused grin on Vecchio's face as Ray came over Vecchio's fingers. He put his head down on Vecchio's shoulder when it was over, panting, trying to catch his breath. "Not buddies, Vecchio." His hand flailed out and he tried to hit Vecchio, but he ended up whacking his knuckles on the arm of the couch and that would have hurt, maybe, if not for the mind-numbing orgasm he'd just had.
Vecchio laughed softly, rubbing his hand up and down Ray's back soothingly. "I like you a lot more than hockey, Kowalski."
"I still like the ice cream better than you," Ray answered immediately, but he pressed his mouth against Vecchio's neck to let him know he was kidding. They stood up and went to get changed, bumbling around in the dark. Vecchio almost knocked over a framed picture of the Canadian countryside that Fraser had sent them for a housewarming gift--every time they looked at it, Ray and Vecchio both rubbed at their arms like they were freezing--and Ray stubbed his toe on the door to the bathroom, which involved a lot of cursing and flailing and calling the door a lot of names.
Eventually they found a flashlight and some candles, and while the storm raged outside they made their way into the kitchen to find the ice cream. Once there, Ray saw a bag with a suspiciously ice-cream carton shaped thing inside, sitting forlornly on the counter. He winced. "Um. So maybe I...forgot to put the ice cream in the freezer when I got home."
Vecchio cast his eyes heavenward. "Kowalski. You bought ice cream and didn't put it away?"
"I was in a hurry to watch the game!" Ray took the ice cream carton out of the plastic grocery bag. It was a lot squishier than an ice cream carton should be.
Oops.
Vecchio sighed. "Life with you is an adventure, that's for sure. Sure, it's more like the stuck-in-the-airport-security-line or other travel annoyances kind of adventure, but still."
"Good thing you like to complain, then," Ray said with a wave of his hand. "You'll never run out of stuff to bitch about." He opened the box, examining it critically. "Hey, Vecchio, look. The ice cream's melted, but the little chocolate bunnies are okay!"
"Yeah?" Vecchio peered over Ray's shoulder into the ice-cream soup. "Huh. I'll get a couple of spoons. You get the coffee mugs."
If their life was an adventure, Ray thought later as they ate chocolate bunnies out of mugs filled with melted ice cream, it was a damn good thing they'd found each other to share it with.