Advent Fic #7: What Never Happened One Night In Chicago
Title: What Never Happened One Late Night In Chicago
Fandom: Due South
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: RayV/RayK
Word Count: 1221
Warnings: Dirty talk?
Written For: attilatehbun! Here's some bickering!smut for you!
Summary: God, Ray hated that smarmy bastard. All he wanted to do was punch him in his smug face. Somehow, somewhere after the third punch, something went horribly wrong....
“I’m not gay.”
Ray (Kowalski, he hated having to specify) realized that maybe, just maybe, that was the sort of thing he should have said earlier. Much earlier. Before he was pinned against a wall, with another man pressed up against him and biting at the side of his neck.
“And you’re saying I am?”
“Hey, you’re the dude that’s keen on getting into my pants, if you hadn’t noticed.”
“Me? Me?” The words were punctuated with a thrust of hips, and Ray (Kowalski) groaned. He didn’t mean to, but it just came out. Friction plus an erection resulted in a groan, that was just biology or something.
“Yeah…” he thrust back, eyes narrowed. “You.”
“You’re the one who’s begging for it.” Another bite to the side of his neck, insistent, needy.
“I don’t beg. Especially not you.” Ray gripped the other man’s shoulders, pushing him back, his voice tinted with as much anger as arousal.
“Oh come on!” Back against the wall. Hard. Ray’s head snapped back and he grunted, breathless.
“Come on what?”
“This? This is charity.” Ray’s wrists were grabbed, pinned over his head. Brick scraped against skin. It was rough, dirty, hot and wrong. It had been that way since they’d met in that dingy little bar for beers. It wasn’t a cop bar, it was just some seedy place down by the docks. And they’d drank. And he’d drank lot. And they’d fought and argued and punches were thrown and they were thrown out where it started all over again….
Ray still didn’t know how they’d ended up here. Fucking Vecchio. He couldn’t stand the smarmy bastard. He just wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. All slick and smug….
“Excuse me?” Charity?
“Yeah, charity. You know. A pity fuck.” Vecchio growled out the words, his leg wedging between Ray’s.
“I’m the one doing you a favor.” Ray was sick of this. Talk, talk, Vecchio was all talk. Ray crushed his mouth to the other man’s, tasking beer and sweat and a little bit of blood. That’d shut him up.
Ray’s shirt was riding up as he was ground against the wall. He felt brick against the small of his back. It was cold. The contrast between cold wall and the heat of fucking Vecchio, rubbing against him….
Fuck.
No one could ever know about this. No one could know….
Vecchio was pulling on his wrists. Trying to turn him. No. Not in a million years, never. Ray tensed, jerking himself back against the wall and tangling his leg with Vecchio’s. He didn’t know what was worse - that he’d ended up making out with another guy in an alley, that he’d ended up making out with Vecchio in an alley, or that he was so fucking hard it hurt.
At least he wasn’t the only one. Vecchio was as hard as a teenage boy in a porno shop. That should probably have disgusted him, but it made him feel good. Because it was proof Vecchio wanted him. He did this. That was some kind of power over the other man, right?
Ray didn’t know. He couldn’t think all that well. Vecchio’s hand was on his belt, fumbling with it, and Ray twisted against the wall. His hands were still pinned. He didn’t like this. He hooked his ankle around Vecchio’s and tugged. Why was he the one pinned against the wall? Why was he the one….
Shit.
Vecchio was giving him a hand job. Right there, right in the alley behind the seedy little bar where it had all started. The fucking bastard was jerking him off. And it felt good. Vecchio’s hand was warm, and he had soft fingers. Kind of like a girl. But his hand was bigger than any girl’s. And he was clumsy and rough and biting Ray’s neck again, right above the collar of his shirt. It was going to leave a mark.
“Now who wants it?” Ray snapped, laughing.
“The one who’s thrusting into the other guy’s hand,” Vecchio snapped right back, squeezing his fingers around Ray’s cock for emphasis.
“I’d say it’s the guy who’s got his hand on the other guy’s bathing suit area.” Ray wrenched his hands out of Vecchio’s grip and grabbed his shirt, gripping it. And then Vecchio did something, something complicated with his fingers and Ray groaned loudly. His head lolled back against the wall and he was gasping for breath. Vecchio was laughing.
Ray didn’t care anymore. He didn’t care who was doing what to who, he just wanted to come. He was thrusting into Vecchio’s hand now, sweating, breathing heavily. He bit his lower lip. He tightened his hands in Vecchio’s jacket, feeling it start. He knew he was close. He could always tell. And maybe Vecchio could to, because he was jerking him off faster now. Harder. It was rough, like everything else. Rough and dirty and seedy.
Just like Vecchio.
“Don’t lie,” Vecchio hissed, right against Ray’s ear. “You want this.”
“Shut up.” Why was he running his mouth now? He needed to shut up so Ray could finish. And then Ray did finish, grunting and twitching and biting his lip so hard he thought he broke through the skin. And Vecchio was making some disgusted noise, and then he was against him again, and this time Ray felt naked skin.
He was still riding high on the waves of his orgasm, so he didn’t care. He didn’t care that some other guy’s cock was pressed against his, hot and hard. Or that some other guy was kissing him, hungrily. He grabbed Vecchio, holding him against him, grinding right back. And he didn’t even care when Vecchio came, right against him, right on his skin.
They didn’t say anything for a few minutes. Vecchio leaned against him, and Ray tipped his head back and stared up at the streetlight overhead. Now he felt dirty again. But good dirty. Sexy dirty. Kinky.
“I own you,” Vecchio finally spoke. Ray gave him a shove, pushing him backwards, off of him.
“Keep dreaming.” Ray frowned as he did up his pants. They were a mess.
“Face it. You’re my bitch now.”
“If anybody’s anybody’s bitch, you are my bitch.” Where were his glasses? He’d been wearing his glasses when he came out….
“I don’t think so. Hey.”
“What?”
“You need a ride home?”
“I’m not inviting you up for coffee.” There were his glasses. He picked them up and put them in his pocket.
“I wouldn’t set foot in your rat hole of an apartment if you paid me.”
“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t want you in there. Even if you paid me.” And Ray laughed, because it was ridiculous, and Vecchio was laughing too. It was almost hysterical. Ray sagged against the wall until he was spent once more, emotionally now.
“We… we never speak of this again,” he said, finally.
“God no. Not a word. To anybody. In fact, we just forget it happened at all.” Vecchio offered him a hand, and Ray stood up straight. No. They’d never tell anyone. Not even Fraser. Definitely not Fraser. Not even on their deathbeds would Fraser ever know what had happened between them.
“Forget what happened? Just...you know. A couple of guys, some pent up stuff, there was some punching, got you know. Physical. No big deal.” Ray shrugged. It sounded fine, like that.
"Exactly. Perfectly normal. What didn't happen."
"Don't need to tell me twice."
At least they could agree on that.
Fandom: Due South
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: RayV/RayK
Word Count: 1221
Warnings: Dirty talk?
Written For: attilatehbun! Here's some bickering!smut for you!
Summary: God, Ray hated that smarmy bastard. All he wanted to do was punch him in his smug face. Somehow, somewhere after the third punch, something went horribly wrong....
“I’m not gay.”
Ray (Kowalski, he hated having to specify) realized that maybe, just maybe, that was the sort of thing he should have said earlier. Much earlier. Before he was pinned against a wall, with another man pressed up against him and biting at the side of his neck.
“And you’re saying I am?”
“Hey, you’re the dude that’s keen on getting into my pants, if you hadn’t noticed.”
“Me? Me?” The words were punctuated with a thrust of hips, and Ray (Kowalski) groaned. He didn’t mean to, but it just came out. Friction plus an erection resulted in a groan, that was just biology or something.
“Yeah…” he thrust back, eyes narrowed. “You.”
“You’re the one who’s begging for it.” Another bite to the side of his neck, insistent, needy.
“I don’t beg. Especially not you.” Ray gripped the other man’s shoulders, pushing him back, his voice tinted with as much anger as arousal.
“Oh come on!” Back against the wall. Hard. Ray’s head snapped back and he grunted, breathless.
“Come on what?”
“This? This is charity.” Ray’s wrists were grabbed, pinned over his head. Brick scraped against skin. It was rough, dirty, hot and wrong. It had been that way since they’d met in that dingy little bar for beers. It wasn’t a cop bar, it was just some seedy place down by the docks. And they’d drank. And he’d drank lot. And they’d fought and argued and punches were thrown and they were thrown out where it started all over again….
Ray still didn’t know how they’d ended up here. Fucking Vecchio. He couldn’t stand the smarmy bastard. He just wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. All slick and smug….
“Excuse me?” Charity?
“Yeah, charity. You know. A pity fuck.” Vecchio growled out the words, his leg wedging between Ray’s.
“I’m the one doing you a favor.” Ray was sick of this. Talk, talk, Vecchio was all talk. Ray crushed his mouth to the other man’s, tasking beer and sweat and a little bit of blood. That’d shut him up.
Ray’s shirt was riding up as he was ground against the wall. He felt brick against the small of his back. It was cold. The contrast between cold wall and the heat of fucking Vecchio, rubbing against him….
Fuck.
No one could ever know about this. No one could know….
Vecchio was pulling on his wrists. Trying to turn him. No. Not in a million years, never. Ray tensed, jerking himself back against the wall and tangling his leg with Vecchio’s. He didn’t know what was worse - that he’d ended up making out with another guy in an alley, that he’d ended up making out with Vecchio in an alley, or that he was so fucking hard it hurt.
At least he wasn’t the only one. Vecchio was as hard as a teenage boy in a porno shop. That should probably have disgusted him, but it made him feel good. Because it was proof Vecchio wanted him. He did this. That was some kind of power over the other man, right?
Ray didn’t know. He couldn’t think all that well. Vecchio’s hand was on his belt, fumbling with it, and Ray twisted against the wall. His hands were still pinned. He didn’t like this. He hooked his ankle around Vecchio’s and tugged. Why was he the one pinned against the wall? Why was he the one….
Shit.
Vecchio was giving him a hand job. Right there, right in the alley behind the seedy little bar where it had all started. The fucking bastard was jerking him off. And it felt good. Vecchio’s hand was warm, and he had soft fingers. Kind of like a girl. But his hand was bigger than any girl’s. And he was clumsy and rough and biting Ray’s neck again, right above the collar of his shirt. It was going to leave a mark.
“Now who wants it?” Ray snapped, laughing.
“The one who’s thrusting into the other guy’s hand,” Vecchio snapped right back, squeezing his fingers around Ray’s cock for emphasis.
“I’d say it’s the guy who’s got his hand on the other guy’s bathing suit area.” Ray wrenched his hands out of Vecchio’s grip and grabbed his shirt, gripping it. And then Vecchio did something, something complicated with his fingers and Ray groaned loudly. His head lolled back against the wall and he was gasping for breath. Vecchio was laughing.
Ray didn’t care anymore. He didn’t care who was doing what to who, he just wanted to come. He was thrusting into Vecchio’s hand now, sweating, breathing heavily. He bit his lower lip. He tightened his hands in Vecchio’s jacket, feeling it start. He knew he was close. He could always tell. And maybe Vecchio could to, because he was jerking him off faster now. Harder. It was rough, like everything else. Rough and dirty and seedy.
Just like Vecchio.
“Don’t lie,” Vecchio hissed, right against Ray’s ear. “You want this.”
“Shut up.” Why was he running his mouth now? He needed to shut up so Ray could finish. And then Ray did finish, grunting and twitching and biting his lip so hard he thought he broke through the skin. And Vecchio was making some disgusted noise, and then he was against him again, and this time Ray felt naked skin.
He was still riding high on the waves of his orgasm, so he didn’t care. He didn’t care that some other guy’s cock was pressed against his, hot and hard. Or that some other guy was kissing him, hungrily. He grabbed Vecchio, holding him against him, grinding right back. And he didn’t even care when Vecchio came, right against him, right on his skin.
They didn’t say anything for a few minutes. Vecchio leaned against him, and Ray tipped his head back and stared up at the streetlight overhead. Now he felt dirty again. But good dirty. Sexy dirty. Kinky.
“I own you,” Vecchio finally spoke. Ray gave him a shove, pushing him backwards, off of him.
“Keep dreaming.” Ray frowned as he did up his pants. They were a mess.
“Face it. You’re my bitch now.”
“If anybody’s anybody’s bitch, you are my bitch.” Where were his glasses? He’d been wearing his glasses when he came out….
“I don’t think so. Hey.”
“What?”
“You need a ride home?”
“I’m not inviting you up for coffee.” There were his glasses. He picked them up and put them in his pocket.
“I wouldn’t set foot in your rat hole of an apartment if you paid me.”
“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t want you in there. Even if you paid me.” And Ray laughed, because it was ridiculous, and Vecchio was laughing too. It was almost hysterical. Ray sagged against the wall until he was spent once more, emotionally now.
“We… we never speak of this again,” he said, finally.
“God no. Not a word. To anybody. In fact, we just forget it happened at all.” Vecchio offered him a hand, and Ray stood up straight. No. They’d never tell anyone. Not even Fraser. Definitely not Fraser. Not even on their deathbeds would Fraser ever know what had happened between them.
“Forget what happened? Just...you know. A couple of guys, some pent up stuff, there was some punching, got you know. Physical. No big deal.” Ray shrugged. It sounded fine, like that.
"Exactly. Perfectly normal. What didn't happen."
"Don't need to tell me twice."
At least they could agree on that.