[fic: no sudden moves and no regrets, rated pg13, kowalski/vecchio, due south]
Title: no sudden moves and no regrets
Author: sionnain
Fandom: due South
Pairing: Ray/Ray
Rating: PG13, I'd say.
Genre: First-time, no angst! (Look ma, no angst!)
Summary: When Ray actually did kiss Vecchio, it was the last thing on his mind.
AN: This is for Snoopypez, who is fabulous and who helps keep me sane on a daily basis. She is v. nice to me and gives me text messages and RP and makes awesome LJ headers. She wanted a nice first-time Ray/Ray fic with "Snoopy", but don't worry, nothing untoward happens. (To Snoopy, that is). Thanks to belmanoir for being a kick-ass beta, and for listening to me whine about half the things on the headers, including the title and the summary. :) Title is from the Hugh Dillon song Lost at Sea.
I hope you like it, James! ::mwah::
no sudden moves and no regrets
The first time Ray thought about kissing Vecchio, they were shopping for baby toys on their lunch hour.
Ray went with Vecchio because he was hungry and Vecchio owed him some money. Ray'd covered Vecchio for a gift for one of the rookies who was getting married, in one of those "here's a gift card everyone pitched in for because we waited too long to get you something," things. And it was only six bucks, but that was enough for a slice and a soda. That was a lot better than a Coke and some stale chips from the vending machine, which had been Ray's original plan for lunch.
Ray should've known Vecchio was up to something, though, because he'd offered to take Ray to lunch all casual-like, in that way he had where Ray should really know better than to believe him. Because that was Vecchio's good cop voice, and Ray'd been in enough interrogations with his partner to know that good things very rarely followed that voice. Hey, Ronald, why don't you just relax and have some coffee and tell me what happened? Nothing's gonna happen, we're just asking you some questions, you want me to call your Ma, maybe get you something to eat that doesn't suck?
Yeah, guys got twenty-to-life after Vecchio used that voice. So Ray should really not have been surprised to find himself standing in the baby toy aisle at Macy's, helping Vecchio pick out something for Frannie's little girl's birthday.
"What do you think, Kowalski?" Vecchio turned to him, very serious, holding out a Snoopy doll and a stuffed pink pony with blue hair and a rainbow stitched on its butt. "Which one of these should I get for Adrianna?"
"I don't even know what's wrong with that one," Ray said, horrified, pointing to the pony. "Kid's gonna be confused, thinking there are pink ponies running around. Don't see the point in confusing her about the natural world, do you? She's only one year old."
Vecchio rolled his eyes. "Yeah, 'cause there are so many ponies running wild around Chicago, pink or otherwise. Come one, little girls love stuff like this--don't they?"
"Jesus Christ, Vecchio, what the hell are you asking me for?" Ray asked him, miffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I look like a girl to you?"
Vecchio grinned at him, that smile that always made Ray want to smile back even if Vecchio was so obviously making fun of him. "You want me to answer that, Stanley? I mean, I figured a guy who used as much hair product as you would know--"
"Shut up, okay?" Ray glowered, grabbing at the Snoopy doll. "Get her this one. Snoopy's got class. That pony's trying too hard. Too flashy."
Vecchio snorted, but he put the pony back on the shelf and reached out, taking the Snoopy doll and tucking it under his arm. "Kowalski, I gotta admit I'm a little shocked, here. I figured with your idea of personal style, you'd go for the pony. You know. It has crazy hair and the colors don't match." Vecchio laughed, amused at his own joke, and before Ray could say anything he turned and headed towards the check-out line, chuckling and obviously enjoying himself at Ray's expense.
Ray stood behind him, stewing, because he'd totally failed to come back with something after that pony remark. He tossed a few around in his brain--yeah, well...Snoopy had to sleep on top of his doghouse! and you want to get a pair of little goggles and fly a plane?--but neither of those made any sense, so he didn't say them. He blamed the fact he was starving and waited while Vecchio was paying for his purchase.
Brilliance came to him in a flash.
"We promised him he could spend his allowance on a toy if he stopped wetting the bed," Ray said seriously to the check-out girl, who gave a little giggle while she was counting out Vecchio's change.
Vecchio glowered at him and Ray grinned as he followed him out of the store, feeling triumphant. And then, for no reason at all, and seemingly out of the blue--a blue as improbable as the pony's hair--Ray wanted to kiss him. He didn't, and the thought was so surprising that he nearly tripped over the curb ("walk much, Kowalski? I thought you were a dancer."), and for a second Ray thought he was just maybe having some kind of weird seizure or something. But then they got in the Riv and Vecchio's cologne smelled good and Ray could see the glint of the cross around Vecchio's neck, and oh, fuck.
* * *
The second time Ray wanted to kiss him was approximately twenty-six minutes after Adrianna's birthday party. For which Ray had, actually, gone and purchased the pony from Macy's. Because the more he thought about it, maybe he was thinking a little too much like Fraser, here. Who cared if the pony was pink and had blue hair? Maybe that's how the pony wanted to express itself, and so what if it wasn't classy like Snoopy? A little individualism and dyed hair never hurt nobody.
He might have been projecting just a little, but Adrianna liked the toy. Well, as much as she liked anything, being one and not really knowing what the hell was going on at her own party. But Frannie had smiled and said, "Thanks, Kowalski," and Ray pretended not to hear Vecchio's snort as he recognized the toy.
When everyone left, Ray stuck around to help clean up. Mostly this was because he was arguing with Vecchio about why it must suck to be a Sox fan, but also because the Vecchios fed him a lot and they were kind of like his adopted family, so he figured it was only polite. Even with the whole weirdness of Vecchio having been briefly married to Stella (they'd fought about that when Vecchio had come back to Chicago, but it'd been half-hearted at best; you were powerless when Stella decided she wanted you, powerless when she decided it was over, and both Rays knew that well enough to know that punching each other more than once was really a waste of time), Ray still really liked the Vecchios even if they were crazy and loud. So sure, he would put paper wrappings in garbage bags and try to get cake frosting out of the carpet. Why not?
Ray ended up in the kitchen helping Vecchio with the dishes. Frannie had taken the exhausted birthday girl up for a nap, and Ray could hear Ma Vecchio in the living room watching something on television. The late afternoon sun was coming in the through the kitchen window, and Vecchio had his sleeves pushed up and his hands submerged in the soapy water. And there it was again, the urge to kiss him, to see what would happen if Ray leaned over and just...went for it.
"Kowalski? Hey, earth to Kowalski? You hear what I'm saying or you gonna need me to get a bullhorn to have a conversation with you?" Vecchio was looking at him strangely--turns out he'd been talking while Ray had been thinking about shoving him against the counter, about how Vecchio's wet, soapy fingers might feel sliding into his hair--
Ooops.
"Yeah, sorry. What?"
"I was just saying, you hear that thing about Jameson in Vice maybe transferring over?" Vecchio said, turning his attention back to the dishes, shaking his head kind of ruefully as he went right back to gossiping about their coworkers. He'd undone the first button on his crisp blue dress shirt, and Ray couldn't seem to stop staring. There was the cross again, lying right against Vecchio's throat, and--fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck.
* * *
The third time, it had nothing to do with toys or children's birthday parties (which was, Ray realized, probably a good thing, all things considered), and everything to do with Vecchio dressed up for court and in a bad mood.
Ray picked him up and drove him back to the 2-7 (the parking by the courthouse was terrible, and Vecchio was afraid someone might hit the Riv, which Ray totally understood), and Vecchio ranted the whole way back, sometimes using swear words that weren't in English (Ray assumed they were swear words, Vecchio was doing a lot of gesturing when he used them). When they got to the station, Ray put a hand on Vecchio's back and steered his partner right into an unused interrogation room to finish his ranting. They'd been partners long enough that Ray knew how this went, just like Vecchio knew that when Kowalski came back from court all jittery and pissed off, it was best to keep him away from the coffee and anyone with a smart mouth.
"Okay, go ahead. You were gonna scare the rookies," Ray said easily, leaning against the closed door. And Vecchio, who was standing in the middle of the room scowling, was wearing a really nice suit and tie and he looked really good, and Ray was trying to be nice and agree that yes, sometimes witnesses were stupid and of course, the criminal justice system worked when it worked but when it didn't, boy did that suck.
Except he was kind of distracted because Vecchio was annoyed and prowling around, all tense and narrow-eyed, and that really shouldn't--it really shouldn't be getting Ray going, but it was, okay, and he really, really didn't know what to do about that. Because Vecchio was his partner and they were friends. And Stella came to visit sometimes and they all went out to dinner, and that was nice, that was great, and Ray really didn't want to fuck that up.
But he couldn't help it. Vecchio was wearing a shirt that did nice things to his eyes and pants that did really nice things to his ass, and Ray was thinking less about friendship and partners and more about blowjobs and really quick and dirty handjobs, here.
"And, Christ, Kowalski, it's not like that sleazeball isn't going to just end up right back up in here, y'know? I mean, he's as dumb as you can get and still walk upright, and you add that to trying to be a car thief and he's gonna end up shot, fuck, getting his ass in jail is probably safer--"
"Yeah," Ray said, six kinds of distracted, wondering what Vecchio would do if Ray grabbed his tie and pulled him closer and kissed him. Vecchio was still talking to him, but Ray was so lost in his happy little fantasy about kissing and tie-tugging that he wasn't actually processing anything Vecchio was saying anymore.
"And then, the firetruck and the alien spaceship landed and peace on earth was granted to all--Kowalski, what is your problem, you not get enough sleep last night?" Vecchio was staring at him, that look he sometimes gave perps when he was done being good cop and just wanted them to confess already.
Ray cleared his throat. He actually had gotten plenty of sleep, and maybe that was 'cause he jerked off before bed, thinking about kissing Vecchio, thinking about doing a lot of things to Vecchio. Which, okay, was making him--Jesus Christ he was not blushing, was he? "Yeah. Um. So you're...um."
"Kowalski." Vecchio was looking at him like maybe Ray was an alien, like maybe he'd never seen him before. "You look kinda flushed, buddy, you think you should go home? Law enforcement just taking it out of you today? I know all you really did was pick me up and bring me back, but I can see how that might tire you out. Maybe you should take some vitamins."
"Nah, I'm--I'm fine. What were you saying? Reynolds, peace on earth, bad car thief, aliens?" Ray shifted his weight and smiled encouragingly, and Vecchio gave him another strange look but shrugged and went on until he'd ranted himself out.
"Want some pizza?" Ray asked him, trying to get back to normal.
"Sure," Vecchio said, and then he smiled, looking tired but pleased to have gotten that out of his system. "Thanks, Kowalski. I needed that."
And those words went somewhere else, lodged in his brain right alongside the image of being on his knees in front of Vecchio in that nice suit, and okay, yeah, Ray was maybe kind of in trouble, here.
* * *
When Ray actually did kiss Vecchio, it was the last thing on his mind.
They were chasing a subject, a routine "Chicago-PD-stop-running!" kind of chase, and then things took a turn to the Benton Fraser level of ridiculous. Through a complicated series of events that Ray would rather not think about, he ended up in a inflatable raft in the Chicago River, sitting across from Vecchio, who was in a suit and soaking wet and scowling.
"Well," Ray said, staring at their surroundings with a look of utter disgust. "This sucks."
"You're not the one covered in--whatever this is." Vecchio looked down at himself. "Please tell me it's water. If it's not, then I actually don't want to know."
"If it was because of the exploding fire hydrant, then yes, it's water. If it's from the Chicago River...then I'm not going to tell you." Ray looked askance at his partner. "I haven't had anything like this happen since--"
"--Fraser was around," Vecchio finished for him. Then, as unlikely a time it was to laugh, his mouth quirked. "If Benny were here, he'd fashion some kind of lasso with your jacket and my tie and have us on the shore in fifteen seconds."
"Nuh-uh, we're not using my jacket," Ray said immediately, recoiling back a little, which was a bad idea because the inflatable raft didn't really have stable sides that were appropriate for leaning. He crossed his arms protectively. "It's leather."
"Stanley, it was just an example," Vecchio said, exasperated, and then he snickered. "Your hair looks stupid. What'd you get in there? Glue?"
"I think it was marmalade and can we just not talk about it? I want to wake up and have this be one of those dreams like the ones where I gotta go back to high school and I'm naked in my math class. Oh, and at least I got hair," Ray added, but it was mostly an afterthought, because maybe interjecting a little normalcy into this situation was a good idea. Ray making fun of Vecchio's hair--or lack thereof--was definitely normal.
"You know what the worst part about this is?" Vecchio asked, looking down at himself and wincing.
"I can hear the Cubs losing?"
"No, Stanley. That we're going to be the butt of every joke at the 2-7 for the next two weeks. Something about how we're--"
And they both said it, right at the same time, "Up shit creek without a paddle?"
Which sent them both into peals of semi-hysterical laughter, and Ray was laughing so hard he was almost giggling, and when he tried to grab the sides of the stupid raft for support he nearly tipped them both into the water. Vecchio gasped out--"Careful, Kowalski, I don't want to swim--" and Ray just laughed harder, and he was pretty sure Vecchio couldn't breathe. And the wind picked up, as it was known to do in Chicago, and Ray ended up kind of half-clinging to Vecchio's arm while they laughed hysterically, trying desperately not to fall out of the boat into the filthiest river known to God and man.
So Ray was definitely not thinking about kissing Vecchio, he was mostly thinking that it was kind of cold and wondering how long it would take a police boat to come pick them up after his somewhat frantic cellphone call of hey, help, me and Vecchio are in a raft on the river and no, I'm not fucking kidding, and how he was going to have to take his jacket to the laundromat. But then, suddenly, in the middle of all the laughing, he was kissing Vecchio, really kissing him, nothing tentative or hesitant about it.
Vecchio's mouth was warm, very warm, and Ray was still kind of shaking and he thought it was from the laughter, but it wasn't, not at all. And he kissed Vecchio and Vecchio kissed him back, and Ray didn't really know which of them had started it but he guessed it didn't really matter, his tongue was in Vecchio's mouth and Vecchio did not seem to mind that at all. Vecchio's hands were on his back, sliding up the leather and into his hair, which kind of ruined the moment because Vecchio muttered, "Ew, that's sticky," against his mouth.
Ray pulled back and had to not groan, because Vecchio's face was flushed and his eyes were glittering and he looked really good even when his suit was all wet. So Ray just stared at him and said, "Um," very brilliantly, then grabbed Vecchio's tie just like he'd wanted to do in the interrogation room and pulled him in to kiss him again, fingers wrapped tight around the wet silk. They did this long enough that Ray was starting to get uncomfortable in certain places, and as this situation was already really uncomfortable, he pulled away reluctantly and said, "We should....they're sending a boat--"
"Yeah, okay," Vecchio said, voice husky and low, still looking at him in a way that was making it really hard for Ray not to pounce on him. Except then they'd end up in the river, and while that might cure Ray's sudden hard-on, that would kind of be like throwing the baby out with the bathwater.
The really filthy, sewage-infested bathwater.
Ray cleared his throat, because he sucked at silence pretty much all the time. “So you-I mean, that was--”
“Great, yeah, but you think you could have done that one of the six thousand other times I've caught you staring at me? Little less chance we'd end up swimming to shore that way, Kowalski,” Vecchio said, and his voice sounded so affectionate and he was smiling that smile of his, the one with the slow, slow curve of his mouth that made Ray crazy in the best way ever.
“Yeah, sorry, I guess it takes mortal peril and a marmalade accident for me to make a move,” Ray said huffily, but he was grinning as he said it.
“Don't think we're in mortal peril here, Stanely,” Vecchio said, and he sounded cheerful. Huh.
“You ever seen a special about what's in this river, Vecchio? I watched one when I couldn't sleep. If you'd seen it, I bet you'd agree.”
“Then sit still and don't rock the boat, Kowalski,” Vecchio answered, leaning back and looking all relaxed and comfortable.
The police boat showed up a few minutes later, and Ray almost did end up in the water trying to get out of the raft and onto the deck. They both got blankets and some coffee, and sat in the back of the boat, glancing at each other every few minutes. Ray really wanted to kiss Vecchio again, but he'd prefer to do it someplace dry and a lot more private.
And maybe without sticky crap in his hair.
"So, you--" Ray looked down at his hands, wrapped around the warm cup of coffee, feeling dumb. He was so bad at this stuff, the asking people out stuff, and if he fucked this up it was going to make his job--which Ray was good at, usually, today was one of those aber-whatevers that could happen to anybody--a hell of a lot harder.
But Vecchio just smiled at him and bumped Ray's shoulder with his own. "When we get back, we should watch the end of the game. So you can see the Cubs lose, instead of just hear them."
"Yeah, yeah. They're not gonna let you in a bar like that," Ray said, nodding towards Vecchio's sodden suit. His heart was beating kind of funny, maybe a little too fast. "Maybe they would at a Sox bar, but we Cubs fans, we got standards."
Vecchio snorted. "Uh-huh, sure. And I was thinking maybe I'd go home and have a shower, change clothes." Vecchio's eyes were sharp, intent, and Ray found he couldn't look away. "Could stop by my place. You could wash whatever that is out of your hair."
Which sounded a lot like we could take a shower together to Ray, which made him feel kind of hopeful and pleased and nervous all at once. "Yeah. Okay. That'd work." Ray smiled at him and Vecchio smiled back, and they drank their coffee and watched in silence as shoreline raced by. Ray felt Vecchio's hand slide underneath the scratchy wool blanket and slide casually up his thigh, and yeah, everything was going to be just fine.
Author: sionnain
Fandom: due South
Pairing: Ray/Ray
Rating: PG13, I'd say.
Genre: First-time, no angst! (Look ma, no angst!)
Summary: When Ray actually did kiss Vecchio, it was the last thing on his mind.
AN: This is for Snoopypez, who is fabulous and who helps keep me sane on a daily basis. She is v. nice to me and gives me text messages and RP and makes awesome LJ headers. She wanted a nice first-time Ray/Ray fic with "Snoopy", but don't worry, nothing untoward happens. (To Snoopy, that is). Thanks to belmanoir for being a kick-ass beta, and for listening to me whine about half the things on the headers, including the title and the summary. :) Title is from the Hugh Dillon song Lost at Sea.
I hope you like it, James! ::mwah::
no sudden moves and no regrets
The first time Ray thought about kissing Vecchio, they were shopping for baby toys on their lunch hour.
Ray went with Vecchio because he was hungry and Vecchio owed him some money. Ray'd covered Vecchio for a gift for one of the rookies who was getting married, in one of those "here's a gift card everyone pitched in for because we waited too long to get you something," things. And it was only six bucks, but that was enough for a slice and a soda. That was a lot better than a Coke and some stale chips from the vending machine, which had been Ray's original plan for lunch.
Ray should've known Vecchio was up to something, though, because he'd offered to take Ray to lunch all casual-like, in that way he had where Ray should really know better than to believe him. Because that was Vecchio's good cop voice, and Ray'd been in enough interrogations with his partner to know that good things very rarely followed that voice. Hey, Ronald, why don't you just relax and have some coffee and tell me what happened? Nothing's gonna happen, we're just asking you some questions, you want me to call your Ma, maybe get you something to eat that doesn't suck?
Yeah, guys got twenty-to-life after Vecchio used that voice. So Ray should really not have been surprised to find himself standing in the baby toy aisle at Macy's, helping Vecchio pick out something for Frannie's little girl's birthday.
"What do you think, Kowalski?" Vecchio turned to him, very serious, holding out a Snoopy doll and a stuffed pink pony with blue hair and a rainbow stitched on its butt. "Which one of these should I get for Adrianna?"
"I don't even know what's wrong with that one," Ray said, horrified, pointing to the pony. "Kid's gonna be confused, thinking there are pink ponies running around. Don't see the point in confusing her about the natural world, do you? She's only one year old."
Vecchio rolled his eyes. "Yeah, 'cause there are so many ponies running wild around Chicago, pink or otherwise. Come one, little girls love stuff like this--don't they?"
"Jesus Christ, Vecchio, what the hell are you asking me for?" Ray asked him, miffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I look like a girl to you?"
Vecchio grinned at him, that smile that always made Ray want to smile back even if Vecchio was so obviously making fun of him. "You want me to answer that, Stanley? I mean, I figured a guy who used as much hair product as you would know--"
"Shut up, okay?" Ray glowered, grabbing at the Snoopy doll. "Get her this one. Snoopy's got class. That pony's trying too hard. Too flashy."
Vecchio snorted, but he put the pony back on the shelf and reached out, taking the Snoopy doll and tucking it under his arm. "Kowalski, I gotta admit I'm a little shocked, here. I figured with your idea of personal style, you'd go for the pony. You know. It has crazy hair and the colors don't match." Vecchio laughed, amused at his own joke, and before Ray could say anything he turned and headed towards the check-out line, chuckling and obviously enjoying himself at Ray's expense.
Ray stood behind him, stewing, because he'd totally failed to come back with something after that pony remark. He tossed a few around in his brain--yeah, well...Snoopy had to sleep on top of his doghouse! and you want to get a pair of little goggles and fly a plane?--but neither of those made any sense, so he didn't say them. He blamed the fact he was starving and waited while Vecchio was paying for his purchase.
Brilliance came to him in a flash.
"We promised him he could spend his allowance on a toy if he stopped wetting the bed," Ray said seriously to the check-out girl, who gave a little giggle while she was counting out Vecchio's change.
Vecchio glowered at him and Ray grinned as he followed him out of the store, feeling triumphant. And then, for no reason at all, and seemingly out of the blue--a blue as improbable as the pony's hair--Ray wanted to kiss him. He didn't, and the thought was so surprising that he nearly tripped over the curb ("walk much, Kowalski? I thought you were a dancer."), and for a second Ray thought he was just maybe having some kind of weird seizure or something. But then they got in the Riv and Vecchio's cologne smelled good and Ray could see the glint of the cross around Vecchio's neck, and oh, fuck.
* * *
The second time Ray wanted to kiss him was approximately twenty-six minutes after Adrianna's birthday party. For which Ray had, actually, gone and purchased the pony from Macy's. Because the more he thought about it, maybe he was thinking a little too much like Fraser, here. Who cared if the pony was pink and had blue hair? Maybe that's how the pony wanted to express itself, and so what if it wasn't classy like Snoopy? A little individualism and dyed hair never hurt nobody.
He might have been projecting just a little, but Adrianna liked the toy. Well, as much as she liked anything, being one and not really knowing what the hell was going on at her own party. But Frannie had smiled and said, "Thanks, Kowalski," and Ray pretended not to hear Vecchio's snort as he recognized the toy.
When everyone left, Ray stuck around to help clean up. Mostly this was because he was arguing with Vecchio about why it must suck to be a Sox fan, but also because the Vecchios fed him a lot and they were kind of like his adopted family, so he figured it was only polite. Even with the whole weirdness of Vecchio having been briefly married to Stella (they'd fought about that when Vecchio had come back to Chicago, but it'd been half-hearted at best; you were powerless when Stella decided she wanted you, powerless when she decided it was over, and both Rays knew that well enough to know that punching each other more than once was really a waste of time), Ray still really liked the Vecchios even if they were crazy and loud. So sure, he would put paper wrappings in garbage bags and try to get cake frosting out of the carpet. Why not?
Ray ended up in the kitchen helping Vecchio with the dishes. Frannie had taken the exhausted birthday girl up for a nap, and Ray could hear Ma Vecchio in the living room watching something on television. The late afternoon sun was coming in the through the kitchen window, and Vecchio had his sleeves pushed up and his hands submerged in the soapy water. And there it was again, the urge to kiss him, to see what would happen if Ray leaned over and just...went for it.
"Kowalski? Hey, earth to Kowalski? You hear what I'm saying or you gonna need me to get a bullhorn to have a conversation with you?" Vecchio was looking at him strangely--turns out he'd been talking while Ray had been thinking about shoving him against the counter, about how Vecchio's wet, soapy fingers might feel sliding into his hair--
Ooops.
"Yeah, sorry. What?"
"I was just saying, you hear that thing about Jameson in Vice maybe transferring over?" Vecchio said, turning his attention back to the dishes, shaking his head kind of ruefully as he went right back to gossiping about their coworkers. He'd undone the first button on his crisp blue dress shirt, and Ray couldn't seem to stop staring. There was the cross again, lying right against Vecchio's throat, and--fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck.
* * *
The third time, it had nothing to do with toys or children's birthday parties (which was, Ray realized, probably a good thing, all things considered), and everything to do with Vecchio dressed up for court and in a bad mood.
Ray picked him up and drove him back to the 2-7 (the parking by the courthouse was terrible, and Vecchio was afraid someone might hit the Riv, which Ray totally understood), and Vecchio ranted the whole way back, sometimes using swear words that weren't in English (Ray assumed they were swear words, Vecchio was doing a lot of gesturing when he used them). When they got to the station, Ray put a hand on Vecchio's back and steered his partner right into an unused interrogation room to finish his ranting. They'd been partners long enough that Ray knew how this went, just like Vecchio knew that when Kowalski came back from court all jittery and pissed off, it was best to keep him away from the coffee and anyone with a smart mouth.
"Okay, go ahead. You were gonna scare the rookies," Ray said easily, leaning against the closed door. And Vecchio, who was standing in the middle of the room scowling, was wearing a really nice suit and tie and he looked really good, and Ray was trying to be nice and agree that yes, sometimes witnesses were stupid and of course, the criminal justice system worked when it worked but when it didn't, boy did that suck.
Except he was kind of distracted because Vecchio was annoyed and prowling around, all tense and narrow-eyed, and that really shouldn't--it really shouldn't be getting Ray going, but it was, okay, and he really, really didn't know what to do about that. Because Vecchio was his partner and they were friends. And Stella came to visit sometimes and they all went out to dinner, and that was nice, that was great, and Ray really didn't want to fuck that up.
But he couldn't help it. Vecchio was wearing a shirt that did nice things to his eyes and pants that did really nice things to his ass, and Ray was thinking less about friendship and partners and more about blowjobs and really quick and dirty handjobs, here.
"And, Christ, Kowalski, it's not like that sleazeball isn't going to just end up right back up in here, y'know? I mean, he's as dumb as you can get and still walk upright, and you add that to trying to be a car thief and he's gonna end up shot, fuck, getting his ass in jail is probably safer--"
"Yeah," Ray said, six kinds of distracted, wondering what Vecchio would do if Ray grabbed his tie and pulled him closer and kissed him. Vecchio was still talking to him, but Ray was so lost in his happy little fantasy about kissing and tie-tugging that he wasn't actually processing anything Vecchio was saying anymore.
"And then, the firetruck and the alien spaceship landed and peace on earth was granted to all--Kowalski, what is your problem, you not get enough sleep last night?" Vecchio was staring at him, that look he sometimes gave perps when he was done being good cop and just wanted them to confess already.
Ray cleared his throat. He actually had gotten plenty of sleep, and maybe that was 'cause he jerked off before bed, thinking about kissing Vecchio, thinking about doing a lot of things to Vecchio. Which, okay, was making him--Jesus Christ he was not blushing, was he? "Yeah. Um. So you're...um."
"Kowalski." Vecchio was looking at him like maybe Ray was an alien, like maybe he'd never seen him before. "You look kinda flushed, buddy, you think you should go home? Law enforcement just taking it out of you today? I know all you really did was pick me up and bring me back, but I can see how that might tire you out. Maybe you should take some vitamins."
"Nah, I'm--I'm fine. What were you saying? Reynolds, peace on earth, bad car thief, aliens?" Ray shifted his weight and smiled encouragingly, and Vecchio gave him another strange look but shrugged and went on until he'd ranted himself out.
"Want some pizza?" Ray asked him, trying to get back to normal.
"Sure," Vecchio said, and then he smiled, looking tired but pleased to have gotten that out of his system. "Thanks, Kowalski. I needed that."
And those words went somewhere else, lodged in his brain right alongside the image of being on his knees in front of Vecchio in that nice suit, and okay, yeah, Ray was maybe kind of in trouble, here.
* * *
When Ray actually did kiss Vecchio, it was the last thing on his mind.
They were chasing a subject, a routine "Chicago-PD-stop-running!" kind of chase, and then things took a turn to the Benton Fraser level of ridiculous. Through a complicated series of events that Ray would rather not think about, he ended up in a inflatable raft in the Chicago River, sitting across from Vecchio, who was in a suit and soaking wet and scowling.
"Well," Ray said, staring at their surroundings with a look of utter disgust. "This sucks."
"You're not the one covered in--whatever this is." Vecchio looked down at himself. "Please tell me it's water. If it's not, then I actually don't want to know."
"If it was because of the exploding fire hydrant, then yes, it's water. If it's from the Chicago River...then I'm not going to tell you." Ray looked askance at his partner. "I haven't had anything like this happen since--"
"--Fraser was around," Vecchio finished for him. Then, as unlikely a time it was to laugh, his mouth quirked. "If Benny were here, he'd fashion some kind of lasso with your jacket and my tie and have us on the shore in fifteen seconds."
"Nuh-uh, we're not using my jacket," Ray said immediately, recoiling back a little, which was a bad idea because the inflatable raft didn't really have stable sides that were appropriate for leaning. He crossed his arms protectively. "It's leather."
"Stanley, it was just an example," Vecchio said, exasperated, and then he snickered. "Your hair looks stupid. What'd you get in there? Glue?"
"I think it was marmalade and can we just not talk about it? I want to wake up and have this be one of those dreams like the ones where I gotta go back to high school and I'm naked in my math class. Oh, and at least I got hair," Ray added, but it was mostly an afterthought, because maybe interjecting a little normalcy into this situation was a good idea. Ray making fun of Vecchio's hair--or lack thereof--was definitely normal.
"You know what the worst part about this is?" Vecchio asked, looking down at himself and wincing.
"I can hear the Cubs losing?"
"No, Stanley. That we're going to be the butt of every joke at the 2-7 for the next two weeks. Something about how we're--"
And they both said it, right at the same time, "Up shit creek without a paddle?"
Which sent them both into peals of semi-hysterical laughter, and Ray was laughing so hard he was almost giggling, and when he tried to grab the sides of the stupid raft for support he nearly tipped them both into the water. Vecchio gasped out--"Careful, Kowalski, I don't want to swim--" and Ray just laughed harder, and he was pretty sure Vecchio couldn't breathe. And the wind picked up, as it was known to do in Chicago, and Ray ended up kind of half-clinging to Vecchio's arm while they laughed hysterically, trying desperately not to fall out of the boat into the filthiest river known to God and man.
So Ray was definitely not thinking about kissing Vecchio, he was mostly thinking that it was kind of cold and wondering how long it would take a police boat to come pick them up after his somewhat frantic cellphone call of hey, help, me and Vecchio are in a raft on the river and no, I'm not fucking kidding, and how he was going to have to take his jacket to the laundromat. But then, suddenly, in the middle of all the laughing, he was kissing Vecchio, really kissing him, nothing tentative or hesitant about it.
Vecchio's mouth was warm, very warm, and Ray was still kind of shaking and he thought it was from the laughter, but it wasn't, not at all. And he kissed Vecchio and Vecchio kissed him back, and Ray didn't really know which of them had started it but he guessed it didn't really matter, his tongue was in Vecchio's mouth and Vecchio did not seem to mind that at all. Vecchio's hands were on his back, sliding up the leather and into his hair, which kind of ruined the moment because Vecchio muttered, "Ew, that's sticky," against his mouth.
Ray pulled back and had to not groan, because Vecchio's face was flushed and his eyes were glittering and he looked really good even when his suit was all wet. So Ray just stared at him and said, "Um," very brilliantly, then grabbed Vecchio's tie just like he'd wanted to do in the interrogation room and pulled him in to kiss him again, fingers wrapped tight around the wet silk. They did this long enough that Ray was starting to get uncomfortable in certain places, and as this situation was already really uncomfortable, he pulled away reluctantly and said, "We should....they're sending a boat--"
"Yeah, okay," Vecchio said, voice husky and low, still looking at him in a way that was making it really hard for Ray not to pounce on him. Except then they'd end up in the river, and while that might cure Ray's sudden hard-on, that would kind of be like throwing the baby out with the bathwater.
The really filthy, sewage-infested bathwater.
Ray cleared his throat, because he sucked at silence pretty much all the time. “So you-I mean, that was--”
“Great, yeah, but you think you could have done that one of the six thousand other times I've caught you staring at me? Little less chance we'd end up swimming to shore that way, Kowalski,” Vecchio said, and his voice sounded so affectionate and he was smiling that smile of his, the one with the slow, slow curve of his mouth that made Ray crazy in the best way ever.
“Yeah, sorry, I guess it takes mortal peril and a marmalade accident for me to make a move,” Ray said huffily, but he was grinning as he said it.
“Don't think we're in mortal peril here, Stanely,” Vecchio said, and he sounded cheerful. Huh.
“You ever seen a special about what's in this river, Vecchio? I watched one when I couldn't sleep. If you'd seen it, I bet you'd agree.”
“Then sit still and don't rock the boat, Kowalski,” Vecchio answered, leaning back and looking all relaxed and comfortable.
The police boat showed up a few minutes later, and Ray almost did end up in the water trying to get out of the raft and onto the deck. They both got blankets and some coffee, and sat in the back of the boat, glancing at each other every few minutes. Ray really wanted to kiss Vecchio again, but he'd prefer to do it someplace dry and a lot more private.
And maybe without sticky crap in his hair.
"So, you--" Ray looked down at his hands, wrapped around the warm cup of coffee, feeling dumb. He was so bad at this stuff, the asking people out stuff, and if he fucked this up it was going to make his job--which Ray was good at, usually, today was one of those aber-whatevers that could happen to anybody--a hell of a lot harder.
But Vecchio just smiled at him and bumped Ray's shoulder with his own. "When we get back, we should watch the end of the game. So you can see the Cubs lose, instead of just hear them."
"Yeah, yeah. They're not gonna let you in a bar like that," Ray said, nodding towards Vecchio's sodden suit. His heart was beating kind of funny, maybe a little too fast. "Maybe they would at a Sox bar, but we Cubs fans, we got standards."
Vecchio snorted. "Uh-huh, sure. And I was thinking maybe I'd go home and have a shower, change clothes." Vecchio's eyes were sharp, intent, and Ray found he couldn't look away. "Could stop by my place. You could wash whatever that is out of your hair."
Which sounded a lot like we could take a shower together to Ray, which made him feel kind of hopeful and pleased and nervous all at once. "Yeah. Okay. That'd work." Ray smiled at him and Vecchio smiled back, and they drank their coffee and watched in silence as shoreline raced by. Ray felt Vecchio's hand slide underneath the scratchy wool blanket and slide casually up his thigh, and yeah, everything was going to be just fine.